de geisha designs

While nineteenth- century critics had reservations about artists' adopting Japanese conventions in paintings and prints, this was not true in the arena of fashion. French textile designers in the 1890s, for example, readily appropriated new and "exotic" floral motifs from Japan, and these fabrics were readily used by couturiers like Charles Frederick Worth.

The most popular item of dress exported to the West in the late nineteenth century was a modified version of the kimono, worn as a dressing gown. Both fully finished garments and unsewn components were sold at small boutiques and at large firms such as Liberty of London. Kimonos for export were often constructed with elements to suit the European market; these might include a set-in box pleat to accommodate the bustle; a collar lining instead of an under kimono; the addition of a knotted and tasseled trim; and a variety of sleeve styles.

In the decade prior to World War I, the construction of women's garments began to change dramatically. As early as 1908, revolutionary couturiers, such as Marie Callot Gerber and Paul Poiret, took inspiration from the drapery-like quality of kimonos. Loosely cut sleeves and crossed bodices were incorporated into evening dresses, while opera coats swathed the body like batwinged cocoons.

One of the twentieth century's greatest couturiers, Madeleine Vionnet, was inspired by the kimono with its reliance on uncut lengths of fabric, and raised dressmaking to an art form. From the onset of World War I to the late 1920s, she abandoned the traditional practice of tailoring body-fitted fashions from numerous, complex pattern pieces, and minimized the cutting of fabric.

A "minimalist" with strict aesthetic principles who rarely employed patterned fabrics or embroidery, Vionnet relied instead on surface ornamentation through manipulation of the fabric itself. For example, the wavy parallel folds of a pin-tucked crepe dress evoked the abstracted image of a raked Zen rock garden, itself a metaphor for the waves of the sea.

Although the influence of the kimono on the construction of garments was extremely important in the 1910s and 1920s, surface ornamentation remained a vital force. During the art moderne, or art deco, era, French textiles in the Japanese style developed a more sophisticated use of both abstract motifs and recognizable images.

Examples range from metallic lamé dresses that replicate the appearance of black lacquer inlaid with gold particles, to garments of brocaded silk woven with a pattern of crashing waves and fish scales. Also appropriated was the mon, or family crest. While the mon is usually an abstracted image drawn from nature, such as a bird or flower, it can also represent a man-made object, such as the nara bi-ya, or parallel rows of arrows; or celestial bodies such as the mitsuboshi, an abstraction symbolizing the three stars of Orion's belt.

from Japonisme, by Patricia Mears. Encyclopedia of Clothing and Fashion. Ed. Valerie Steele

(what interests me is seeing the interpretations of the japanese designs by the western artists. i generally like them better than the original japanese or the western style either.)

war, part 3

i know there will always be war because there has always been war.

War is Peace
Freedom is Slavery
Ignorance is Strength*

i know that wars will never be about what we are told they are.

Attention! Your attention, please! A newsflash has this moment arrived from the Malabar front. Our forces in South India have won a glorious victory. I am authorized to say that the action we are now reporting may well bring the war within measurable distance of its end.*

i know that lies will be told to me to enlist my support. the way to a woman's heart is through her kitchen.

Oceania was at war with Eurasia: therefore Oceania had always been at war with Eurasia. The enemy of the moment always represented absolute evil, and it followed that any past or future agreement with him was impossible.*

i know every nations mothers and fathers feel the same about their children, so protecting the children becomes the reason for war.

The war, therefore, if we judge it by the standards of previous wars, is merely an imposture. It is like the battles between certain ruminant animals whose horns are set at such an angle that they are incapable of hurting one another. But though it is unreal it is not meaningless. It eats up the surplus of consumable goods, and it helps to preserve the special mental atmosphere that a hierarchical society needs. War, it will be seen, is now a purely internal affair. In the past, the ruling groups of all countries, although they might recognize their common interest and therefore limit the destructiveness of war, did fight against one another, and the victor always plundered the vanquished. In our own day they are not fighting against one another at all. The war is waged by each ruling group against its own subjects, and the object of the war is not to make or prevent conquests of territory, but to keep the structure of society intact. The very word 'war', therefore, has become misleading. It would probably be accurate to say that by becoming continuous war has ceased to exist. The peculiar pressure that it exerted on human beings between the Neolithic Age and the early twentieth century has disappeared and been replaced by something quite different. The effect would be much the same if the three super-states, instead of fighting one another, should agree to live in perpetual peace, each inviolate within its own boundaries. For in that case each would still be a self-contained universe, freed for ever from the sobering influence of external danger. A peace that was truly permanent would be the same as a permanent war. This -- although the vast majority of Party members understand it only in a shallower sense -- is the inner meaning of the Party slogan: WAR IS PEACE.*

and i just know that there is not a single person, a single sentient being, who doesn't cherish safety, and know no one is safe during a war.

*(Orwell's 1984)

war, part 2

This is a letter written by Dean Memmen in 1918 from the front lines in France during World War I. The letter was written to his friend George Halfmann of Minonk. The letter was given to us by George Halfmann, Jr. Mr. Mennen died from wounds in action on October 4, 1919, at the age of 23 years.

Dear Fatty;

Well how is everything by this time? I suppose Illinois's club have started to give dances again. I suppose they will be some what tame affairs with so many of the fellows gone. Have you heard how the boys like the service? I suppose they think they are having a fine time. Did you win any money on the World Series? I won five francs and could have gotten more money up but lacked confidence in Sox.

The climate here is about same as home but it rains more here. It is a pretty country but of all scenery I have seen I will take that around the big red bridge west of town for mine. We have a fair camp here and the bunk house are all O.K. except roofs which they are fixing. A couple of nights I had to spread my poncho over me to keep from getting a shower bath, but things have improved since that. We have bunks something like railroad men have in cabooses only wider. Two men sleep in each.

I went up town on liberty the other night with a Chicago kid. We had a h-- of a time on 67 cents. I am going again tonite if I get paid. With money fellows owe me, I have 380 frances coming so don't expect to go broke again. I had two glasses of wine the other evening at 8 cents a glass. I don't think much of it. We also went to a licensed red light house (both being my first experiences) but I wouldn't have touched one of the things they call women for a years pay. Now my curiosity is satisfied. I am off such places for life. I will be a regular angel by the time I get home.

There are two Y.M.C.A. at this camp. I heard a fine sermon at one last Sunday. That was first sermon I had heard since some time in July. They sell most every thing in way of eats that we want for lunches except bread. One of the fellows said he never thought that he would be doing God's work by selling star tobacco on Sunday afternoon until now.

Suppose you are a bachelor again by this time as Peggy ought to be back to Oberlin by this time.

Write and let me know how things are going at home.

Your old Pal,
Dean Memmen 1

i can't help but to compare this war to today's occupation, and how we see the soldiers. they are (mostly young) people now as they are in all wars. we are not given images like these. we are hiring out their jobs and marginalizing their humanity.

this is memorial day. in this country it's supposed to be a day of gratitude and recognition to soldiers and their families. what will we have in the future? mercenary day? blackhawk day? i don't know. i just know i'll be here praying for a return to sanity, and the knowledge that on a day of remembrance it's humans who will be remembered.

war, part 1

this has been a fascinating and disturbing direction my brain has led me into. we've talked about the strong influence of the japanese prints (particularly those of kabuki actors) on the new generation of german poster artists. simplification of image and space, outlines, and a hand-lettered style to the words. (and i only now just have realized that the handlettering blossomed so widely in germany because they already had a whole calligraphy in use in the early part of the century!)

then came world war one. countries around the world utilized the talents of the best illustrators, designers, and poster artists to send whatever message that government wanted to send to its people.

The absence of public unity was a primary concern when America entered the war on April 6, 1917. In Washington, unwavering public support was considered to be crucial to the entire wartime effort. On April 13, 1917, Wilson created the Committee on Public Information (CPI) to promote the war domestically while publicizing American war aims abroad. Under the leadership of a muckraking journalist named George Creel, the CPI recruited heavily from business, media, academia, and the art world. The CPI blended advertising techniques with a sophisticated understanding of human psychology, and its efforts represent the first time that a modern government disseminated propaganda on such a large scale. It is fascinating that this phenomenon, often linked with totalitarian regimes, emerged in a democratic state.

The CPI did not limit its promotional efforts to the written word. The Division of Pictorial Publicity "had at its disposal many of the most talented advertising illustrators and cartoonists of the time," and these artists worked closely with publicity experts in the Advertising Division. Newspapers and magazines eagerly donated advertising space, and it was almost impossible to pick up a periodical without encountering CPI material. Powerful posters, painted in patriotic colors, were plastered on billboards across the country. Even from the cynical vantage point of the mid 1990s, there is something compelling about these images that leaps across the decades and stirs a deep yearning to buy liberty bonds or enlist in the navy. 1

it didn't take very long for something to smack me in the face. these "very american" posters, designed by the likes of edward penfield, cole phillips, and cb falls, looked more like those posters of "our enemy" in this war: germany!

and of course some of the artists enlisted there for this are just those we've discussed so often. we've got lucian bernhard, julius klinger, and julius engelhard, along with others. we'll see more, from all sides, in further posts.

it's all there -- the flat planes of color, the outlines, the lettering, the elongated shapes, and the black. war posters were designed to catch the eye and to deliver an important message quickly, just like a poster advertising anything else. if the powers that be want you to use certain products and not others, if they wanted to employ you to fight, or if they wanted you to make you feel personally liable for your family's very lives, here was their tool.

the things i can never get used to are the tragic ironies. it's ironic if not tragic, that we in the US borrowed for our advantage the very tool of the other side, and often pictured them in a rather unflattering light.

and then there are the tragic. "Julius Klinger was a German artist of Jewish descent who worked for Jugend for several years, from 1896 to 1903, at the beginning of his artistic career. He later went on to be a formative force in advertising art, and ultimately died during World War II, probably at the hands of the Nazis."2

and of lucian bernhard -- his influential style brought him invitations from the united states. "Urban areas became hotbeds of advertising: bold, reductive graphic imagery was necessary to capture the viewer's attention on crowded poster hoardings. Bernhard's Sachplakat epitomized his new form, which also included other kinds of imagery in which unusually bright, yet aesthetically pleasing colors replace more subtle hues. Text was pared to a minimum."

in the early 1920s hitler was substantially increasing his power, so when bernhard, also of jewish descent) received an invitation to teach and work in new york, he made the move. "Bernhard was shuttled around the country to promote his own work and perhaps convince American art directors to consider modern design as an alternative to the overly rendered, often saccharine, painted illustration that represented American practice." 3

apparently, though, the word had already gotten through. artists in america were using the tools of the germans to fight the germans who went on to banish the ones that made the tools in the first place. now just how ironic is that.

play as haiku

liza's wonderful post about jello inspired my thinking, once again, about how artists, in the early part of the 20th century, brought illumination to the mundane -- the blurring of the line between fine and commercial art, as we have seen before as influenced by the japanese.

somehow i suddenly thought of the end of a play by thornton wilder:

From Our Town: Emily, a young mother who has died, has come back to earth for one day to spend time with her friends and family, who don't know she's there.

Emily: I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another. I didn't realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed. Take me back -- up the hill -- to my grave. But first, wait! One more look. Good-by; good-by, world; good-by, Grovers Corners. . . Mama and papa.

Good-by to clocks ticking. . . and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths. . . and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. (She looks toward the stage manager and asks abruptly through her tears) Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? -- every, every minute?

Stage Manager: No. (Pause) The saints and poets, maybe -- they do some.

Emily: I'm ready to go back.

it suddenly occurred to me that this was about consciousness, living in the moment -- in short, the teachings of buddhism.

"Opening in the first years of a new century, Our Town still speaks to us about the beauty and transience of life," says one critic. hmmm -- isn't that the essence of buddhist thought? the description of a haiku?

"Thornton Wilder, in his play, The Skin of Our Teeth, written in 1942, had one of his characters say this: 'My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it's on your plate -- that's my philosophy.'" and thich nhat hanh says, "Do not lose yourself in dispersion and in your surroundings. Practice mindful breathing to come back to what is happening in the present moment. Be in touch with what is wondrous, refreshing, and healing both inside and around you." he might as well just have come out and said ice cream.

wilder spent much of his childhood in china, and felt that japanese drama was a strong influence on his own, both in thought and in the minimalism of staging. he, along with the new poster artists, did one thing clearly: ennoble the everyday.

and one more for the road

one for my baby
uploaded by artanis2

ONE FOR MY BABY

It’s quarter to three,
There’s no one in the place ’cept you and me
So set ’em’ up joe
I got a little story I think you oughtta know

We’re drinking my friend
To the end of a brief episode
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road

I know the routine
Put another nickel in that there machine
I’m feeling so bad
Won’t you make the music easy and sad

I could tell you a lot
But you gotta to be true to your code
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road

You’d never know it
But buddy I’m a kind of poet
And I’ve got a lot of things I wanna say
And if I’m gloomy, please listen to me
Till it’s all, all talked away

Well, that’s how it goes
And joe I know you’re gettin’ anxious to close
So thanks for the cheer
I hope you didn’t mind
My bending your ear

But this torch that I found
It’s gotta be drowned
Or it soon might explode
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road

Johnny Mercer & Harold Arlen (1943)

(this post is for amy!)