High Style.

Last Wednesday I finally (FINALLY) made it to High Style: Fashioning a National Collection at the Brooklyn Museum, exhibited in conjunction with American Woman: Fashioning a National Identity at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I love the Brooklyn Museum. Their exhibitions always feel very accessible, with an indefinable quality--perhaps a respect for each object without blind reverence? The space is attractive, as well as the logos, signage and even the sweet little visitor tags that hang on a button (or whatever....although I imagine everyone is wearing at least ONE button every day, right?). They seem to have a great sense of identity, consistently representing and exploring Brooklyn, and they know their audience.

I learned a lot on Wednesday about their historic support of and interest in clothing and textile, which obviously cements in my admiration of the institution. The department was founded in 1902, their preliminary goal being to provide a study collection for American industry; this has grown into an exemplary overview of New York/American fashion. Recently, the costume and textile holdings of the museum were transferred to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and these exhibitions are a celebration of the union.

As usual, I didn't do a ton of research before heading to Brooklyn, and I think I was anticipating more of the Met's take on the collection, an exploration of American clothing identity. I can't wait to see that one, as it seems more apropos my study and interests. However, how could you not enjoy being mere feet away from some of the most treasured garments in America? (I was appreciatively giggled at for the acrobatic contortions I performed to see the backs of some of these treasures) These haute couture examples were described in one of the labels as the "pinnacle of fashion's art", and their survival and exhibition are so important, especially in a highly populated destination city and at a well-respected pair of museums with millions of visitors.

These fantastic, singular specimens tend to be the focus of most museum exhibitions. There are numerous reasons for this curatorial choice--artistic value, availability, sponsorship, public interest, etc. I will acknowledge a total bias thanks to a rigorous, inquisitive Master's program and our little personal collection, but I want to see how (if?) Worth inspired Ramsyer's, the tailor who made the black wool suit with silk chiné accents, or how closely a dress of Marie Anna's resembles a Doucet (she wishes). I suppose my other bias is a longing to see more 19th century garments, again a rare museum choice because of the delicate nature of the pieces and the perceived tenuous relevance to our modern lives, among other reasons.

That said, the Brooklyn Museum was very careful about noting this--that it was an exhibition of collection highlights, of special pieces and that there was a "larger story to be told". I think that my initial reaction will be significantly tempered by the sister exhibition.

Personal Highlights:

Evening Dress, 1893. Blue silk satin; designed by Charles Frederick Worth.

This dress is much fancier than anything we have from Marie Anna's wardrobe, but the bodice shape is very similar to that of the wool bodices I've been studying, especially the front interest, lapels, and puffed sleeves. The accompanying catalogue notes, however, that this is a slight departure from the typical "leg-o-mutton" of the day, emulating the 16th century style of a puffed upper sleeve with a slim-cut lower section, appearing to be two separate but attached parts. (Reeder 2010, 42) I imagine you could take it a step further, the red silk velvet accents recalling both the distinctive slashing as well as the use of heavy, luxurious fabrics from that same early period. This idea certainly merits more research, and I wonder if the author is referencing a male or female sixteenth century trend--in my very preliminary search, it seems to be more easily identified in male portraits, such as these, from the Met:

Portrait of a Man, Tommaso Fiorentino, 1521. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY.

Alfonso d'Este (1486-1534), Duke of Ferrara, copy after Titian, late 16th or early 17th century. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY.

Note the red silk velvet used to make his suit!

If we're going to paraphrase a whole century, sleeve fashions for women seem to lean more toward leg-o-mutton (I'm looking at you, Queen Elizabeth) or with delicate volume at the cap of the sleeve, created by the poufing of an undergarment (chemise) through the aforementioned slashing of the gown's sleeves instead of part of the garment's structure, as seen here:

Portrait of a Woman, Florentine Painter, mid-16th century. Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY.

The 16th century-1890s connection will have to be explored in greater depth later; every century has its innumerable style mutations, and I'd love to find out more about this suggested connection.

Another personal highlight was a dress attributed to Jean-Phillipe Worth (son of Charles Frederick), worn by Emily Warren Roebling, wife of the man who designed the Brooklyn Bridge. It's a beautiful Worth piece, dates from my new favorite decade, and is a great Brooklyn connection! But my favorite part is that has been exhibited with a portrait of Mrs. Roebling in THE VERY SAME DRESS! I have been excited by this concept since 2008, when I was an intern at Plimoth Plantation. Every few weeks, embroiderers would come for the weekend to work on a reproduction of an early 17th century jacket, commonly known as the Layton jacket. Last summer, I was able to see the actual jacket at the Victoria and Albert Museum, on view with the portrait in the British Galleries.

Of course, that incidence is far less common in 17th century objects than late 19th, but I still find it thrilling.

This was the dress she wore at her presentation to Queen Victoria, as well as to the coronation of the czar and czarina of Russia, both in 1896. These important regal affairs required appropriately grandiose attire; the historical references the younger Worth employs here put the sleeves of the other dress to shame: "Allusions in this dress to other historical eras, evident in the Renaissance-style sleeves and the skirt style similar to that of the eighteenth-century robe à la française, as well as the opulent silver and gold embroidery on the bodice, convey the aura of grandeur requisite for being in the presence of royalty. The velvet train strewn with exquisite silk orchids heightens the effect." (Reeder 2010, 203)

So. beautiful.

Now I'm inspired to explore the historical allusions and Renaissance applications of our sweet little collection.....which is one of the things I love most about museums: their ability to encourage introspection, to learn more about yourself through the examination of others. Not just their works of art, but the armoires in the American wing at the Met, or an interpreter plucking fowl at Coggeshall Farm.

Or, of course, Victoria's mourning dress, which was on view at the Brooklyn Museum. One visitor loudly and proudly informed anyone who passed: "She ain't sitting on a chair, she's THAT SHORT." Although grating after ten full minutes of repetition, I love that the reality of Victoria's stature was so striking that she had to share it with other unsuspecting (although probably equally intrigued) visitors.

So, for more inspiration, I am off to the Bruce Museum tomorrow for a lecture. I'm so, SO annoyed that I missed the lecture titled, "The Art and 'Science' of American Dressmaking 1820-1920", but am really looking forward to tomorrow's offering, "Fashion and the American Image, 1930s-1950s". Next year's costume history class focuses on the 20th century, so perhaps this will be an exciting taste of what's to come.

But....what will I wear?

Sources cited:

Reeder, Jan Glier, High Style: Masterworks from the Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010.