Yves Saint Laurent F2010

McQueen F2010

Stella F2010

DP + the LA Phil

Last night I saw my good friend Nat perform with his band the Dirty Projectors at the Disney Concert Hall. The show was pretty close to sublime, pretty close. First the LA Philharmonic performed pieces selected by the DPs frontman, Dave. Dave's selections were perfect: Ligeti, Wagner, Ravel. I especially loved Ligeti's Arc en Ciel and the Ravel Mother Goose piece. For me these pieces together encapsulated the Dirty Projectors' origins. During Arc en Ciel, I have to admit, I became overwhelmed by the reflection of the pianist's hands against the woodgrain of the second balcony. They looked like water, frantically tumbling and flowing. During Mother Goose, I became obsessed (in a good way!) by the fractional differences in the violinists' entrances. The orchestra so finely captured the safety and comfort of that piece. The woodwinds, the quality of all the strings being plucked! Mystery and excitement.

Then there was the main event. I'm a bad person: NB and I go back to high school, but prior to this night I'd never even listened to the Dirty Projectors. I got pretty much what I expected, tho - in a good way! It was a whole experience, overwhelming and raw. The female vocalists get enormous credit from me - they aligned eerie and sweet with perfection (and their costumes/outfits definitely helped - each girl in one of the primary colors, riding hood and doo-wop dress; and Dave in his parka to boot). The encore, with Dylan's I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine, was the perfect finishing touch

McQueen

Ok, so clearly I haven't written anything in a while. I've thought of things now and then (possibly will still publish a post on karaoke in NH), but not until Thursday did I really feel I had a need to write again.

I woke up Thursday morning literally with a spring in my step. Which was exciting because I've been in a bit of a winter-in-Lalaland funk. But no sooner did I open my browser than that spring sank straight out of me. I was devastated and incredibly angry when I read the headlines that Alexander McQueen had killed himself. In retrospect, it was refreshing in a way, because I hadn't felt so definitely strongly like that in a pretty long time. I adored his work, his vision, his perception, his courage. And I was incensed that I was now deprived of it. That we were all deprived of it.

I think Tavi's response was succinct and eloquent; and Scott Schuman hit the nail on the head in expressing his regret that followers of fashion had few outlets for their grief. The Times of London and the Guardian did commendable work covering the subject; the brief tribute in images put together by the Times was also clear and evocative of McQueen's spirit in only 11 pictures. But Shuman was right: I was immediately entrenched in an argument with a friend about why the passing of Alexander McQueen was equally as significant as that of Howard Zinn. I was made to feel (well, attempted to be made to feel) that my appreciation was less significant, less worthy, than his. And this comes to the point that most frustrates me. Many people who "do" and don't know his work will flippantly say he was a designer ("do" referring to those people who tweeted about buying his shoes or clothes and RIP). But he was not simply a designer or commodity; he had a spirit (a word I really don't use often) and bravery and vision that transcended fashion. He was an artist to the greatest degree.

The Sartorialist also raises the question of what next. My response was that the line should go on because that was the wish he expressed (in his last interview in the Times he describes people in spaceships above the earth dancing in his clothes). I know that no one would be able to replicate his truly unique strengths, but if we are strong and truly grateful for the people we've known, we attempt to perpetuate some aspect of their work or whatever made them great, in memory of them. Even if we never live up to what they achieved, keeping the spirit alive is meaningful. I'm not sure if I stand by it 100% if it weren't done with integrity it would be a shame and his name really would just be commodified. But I think taking risks and facing massive challenges is exactly what Alexander McQueen was about.

Update: This is a great piece in the NY Times

A busdriver without a bus

Last night I saw one of the best pieces of theatre I've seen all year, if not the best. The Walworth Farce is a production of the Druid Dublin company based in Galway, written by Enda Walsh. It is difficult for me to put the awesomeness of this production into words, and in a way I don't think I should. For one thing, it was a total experience -- not in a site-specific or audience participation kind of way, but it inundated me at once with the symbolism of world of the play, and also immediately to my own, modern circumstances.

I read the play in part as an allegory for religion, or any tradition or ritual, floundering in the modern world, though many readings and nuances could be gleaned from it. Its most dramatic edge revealed it as a naturalistic family saga, in spite or more likely because of the farce -- I for one definitely thought of Josef Fritzl and the immense range of human experiences. The play is hilarious (think specificity of physical gesture) and yet deeply tragic -- the actors' expressiveness and intricacy of emotion are well well above par (these pictures demonstrate the farcical aspect more than the tragic, but I think the extremity of the actors' expressions illuminates the tragic aspects [especially Tadhg Murphy as Sean])

It was the kind of performance that was fully satisfying and still made me crave theatre, Brecht, Brook, Shakespeare, everything immediate

S/S10 part 2

So as far as the more dramatic collections from S/S10 these were my favs. You may notice that Chanel is not among them. Ok. I have no problem with Chanel. I enjoyed the sense of play KL conveyed, but of the collections that went out there boldly and surreal-ly, I found it particularly onanistic and therefore kinda creepy. Thus in no particular order:

Firstly, I got a real kick out of Jean Paul Gualtier. It was so unapologetically urban and raw, and somehow wearable? This collection was all about the styling, the pieces on their own (*perhaps* not the satin bustier overalls...) are all super class. Plus I am about the side braid ghetto hoops and garter belts

I know Tavi is the blogosphere's resident Rei Kawakubo stalker, but we can share can't we? Kawakubo has her finger on a particularly honest, serious, playful pulse. I LOVED this CdG collection -- the proportions of the silhouettes (up to the candyfloss hair) are *perfect* I hate polkadots and now I MUST HAVE polkadots, not to mention figure out some way to fashion attachable leather shoulder pads


John Galliano made huge moves. As far as I'm concerned, he took Dior's Hollywood lady and introduced her to opium and dostoyevsky. The collection is at once a complete throwback and still totally futuristic and doomy (without going down the Rick Owens route -- which there is nothing wrong with, but it's his)


I adored Louis Vuitton. First thing that needs to be said is I want a foxtail. What I loved most about this collection (as has been the trend of this post) is its fulfillment of perspective. MJ decided on a view and went for it. I really feel the whole futuristic traveler thing from this. Not that I'm about to go get a fro/perm, but his fusion of contrasting elements allowed that traveler to live



And at last we come to THE COLLECTION of this season, namely Alexander McQueen CBE. I can't say a lot about this collection that hasn't already been said, including the fact that along the lines of my professed purpose for this blog, this collection was way far and away (in my opinion) the most 'performative' -- the cameras and online transmission, the story evolution represented in lights and video. The world is kinda lucky