I tried to work up some indignation about "Fashion Show," I really did. No doubt one or two voices will be raised against the MFA exhibit, subtitled "Paris Collections 2006," which runs Nov. 12-March 18. Like previous shows on cars and guitars and Bill Koch's toys, it will likely be criticized as a misuse of the museum's resources for an exhibit of dubious artistic merit, an unabashed play for a blockbuster audience.
If such criticism comes, the MFA won't be shy about answering. I briefly interviewed curator Pamela Parmal for the Improper Boston's fall preview and she staunchly defended the artistic merits of haute couture in general and the show in particular; at the press preview Friday afternoon, Malcolm Rogers cheerfully placed "Fashion Show" in the "tradition" of those other controversial exhibits. Exhibits that bring a lot of new people to the MFA and, at least in Koch's case, may help bring in large new donations.
There are merits to both sides; perhaps by natural inclination, I tend to lean toward the complainers. No matter what anyone says, fashion at this level is a business that happens to include some artistic expression, not the other way around. But after hearing the speakers and walking through the galleries on Friday, I found I couldn't work up any outrage.
At the risk of sounding like one of Andy Rooney's semi-coherent "60 Minutes" grumbles, what I thought was that the whole thing just seems ...silly.
Sure, there are beautiful and occasionally sublime clothes here, from fashion houses including Christian Lacroix, Christian Dior, Valentino and Yohji Yamamoto. The picture on the front of the Globe today gives you a nice taste of that. And it would be willfully ignorant to carp about the vast gap between what the models wear on the runway and what anyone ever actually dons in real life.
But hey, let's be philistine. There's enough comically "arty" clothing in the show to bring on the kind of ridicule normally reserved for works from the Saatchi collection.
Azzadine Alaia's Mongolian goat-fur jackets look like Dr. Seuss characters or perhaps Cousin It from the "Addams Family." The material is exquisite, the effect hilarious. Hussein Chalayan offers a jacket with an "armrest collar" that looks
like one of those neck pillows you see in the gadget catalogs. The exhibit's attempt to reproduce this year's Paris experience means that the mannequins modeling Viktor & Rolf designs wear mesh masks, just like the runway models; the wall text failed to convince me this is anything other than misogynist kink.
Mason Martin Margiela's conceptual designs of recycled material include a "waistcoat" made entirely of buckles and straps from old leather sandals - it looks like a bondage harness assembled by someone with profound schizophrenia. Funny in a different way were the frizzy designs by Galliano for Dior which reference 1789 and include images of skeletons. Ah, such chuckling irony. Enough to make me pine for the return of the guillotine.
I'd like to say these are the exceptions to the very lovely rule. But like Damien Hirst's frozen goats, they're the cutting edge, dividing those in the know from those who just don't get it. If you want to be part of the fun, you've got to nod thoughtfully at their deep artistic meanings or be thought a reactionary. Perhaps if I'd stayed for the Champagne I would have been seduced.
No doubt there is a profound discussion to be had over the form, function and purpose of haute couture, the standards by which it should be judged, the reasons it should be exhibited at the MFA. And the fate of my own industry in recent years has made me somewhat more sympathetic to Rogers' efforts to attract a wider audience without being bound by past definitions of what makes a museum exhibition.
But that's not why I'm not complaining about "Fashion Show." Honestly, I looked and all I thought was tee hee. Construct your own "emperor's new clothes" allegory from that if you wish. But it's hard to feel outrage when you're giggling.
Interestingly, the various French fashionistas the houses sent to
represent them at the MFA dressed mostly in plain black and other solid, dark colors. The men wore coat and tie. Aside from a couple of
mildly odd hairdos and an accessory or two, they were a pretty
traditional bunch. Not one of the women came with a mesh mask on. This is Boston, after all.#