Dior

Victoire de Castellane for Dior

‘La D de Dior’ Granville watch(es)

2016

     Beyond superb! A piquant pastiche of succulent colours, de Castellane’s recent œuvre of timepieces demonstrates a fearless experimentation with the colour wheel. For this particular watch, fifty tangerine-orange garnets (‘spessartites’) bezel a deep bay of diamond-specked lapis lazuli, creating an eye-watering pairing of perfect complementation (emulating something of Autumn’s setting African sun). The golden hands within the bay glide with each second as do water nymphs with currents - supple, slender and silent, though ever-present. Equally bezelled with gems, the crown is encircled by a halo of nearly ten diamond drops. It, too, complements the lapis face with its delicious smattering of winking whites, candidly drawing together the quarterly points with the singular manual point. And possibly the most dashing of details, the watch’s patented pistachio-glossed strap demands its own pride of praise. It lolls out from either end of the face like an enamelled tongue, keen to set its tastes on the wrist of one who embodies all that Dior requires of the contemporary lady.

El Anatsui

El Anatsui

Stressed World

2011

     Sewn together with copper wire, more than 2’000 bits of discarded aluminium tinker and breathe in unison, forming Anatsui’s curious perception of what the married words ‘stressed’ and ‘world’ mean to him. Bent, scarred and coloured differently, each aluminium scale (once a bottle cap or component of a food tin) embeds into Anatsui’s work an idiosyncratic history of its past use, however long a time this may have lasted. It creates for itself a tiny but significant niche from which it may comfortably expose its story with humility, forming a link that is both invaluable and inseparable to those surrounding it. As one, the scales crystallise into a single breadth of hide, barked and wrinkly, but entirely intact. Their collective imperfections strive to illustrate the strength in their continued existence; the fight against deterioration and their disposal as things supposedly no longer needed and wanted. They emulate the drive behind evolution, or at least that which defines the constant regeneration of something’s purpose and function, as well as the unlikely place from which a new face of beauty may surface. Anatsui’s metal weave expresses the power of self-healing; the ability to grow from pain and use one’s wounds beneficially; the test of tolerance and sustainability, and the resulting reaction and recognition of one’s new skin.

Hidden, Never Lost

by (signed) ‘Reg/yo’ (?)

Untitled

circa 1930s (?)

     A picture whose rustic strokes define an anonymous pledge of passion, here is a scene beautified by the timeless undertone of simplicity. The hands that once flitted across the board of paper, surely as coarse and thick then as it remains today, channelled an impression that was immediate and profound to the observer’s eye. Something characterised this moment in time as purposeful; as meant to be translated by and through the keen fingers of one who recognised the specific beat of its short-lived heart. Maybe this something lay in the way the patches of snow scaled the tree’s bark; in the scattered scintillation of gritty ground beneath the cart’s wheels and the horse’s hooves, encircling the onion-domed church; or possibly in the steely skies themselves, blanketing the square in a peculiar warmth not commonly exuded by grey tones. Unassuming and humble, this vignetted village centre slumbers with an ease that is oblivious to the passing of time. Its painted ambiance emulates a calm, sluggish way of life, one that is both paced and unchanging, regardless of what might live beyond its protective mountains or, indeed, its carton surface.

Norman Bluhm

Norman Bluhm

Crustadele

circa 1976

     A film of feelings finely lining the face of a star. Grazing the depths of Outer Space, she exhales a light both brilliant and blinding, as fierce as a lemon’s spray. Each drop boosts her imploding life, shedding a fan-like trail out from her tail, so tart and darkly turbulent. From this to that and from here to there, her moods determine her destinations. She sways angrily from right to left, shooting through time without fearing its loss; without sensing its weight; without knowing its name.

Circled Chocolate

Chocolats Fins de Villars (Fribourg, Suisse)

Circular [printed] Paper ‘bonbons’ Box

circa 1950s

     Intimate, picturesque and, in some sense, consoling. Pairing the aspect of water with that of a round shape may elude to the way in which ripples affect perception. Soothing in their fluidity, they can redefine and animate the features of an object; they designate themselves as ever-changing windows into a reality within a reality, making the observer see a three-dimensional space ‘through’ an ephemeral, two-dimensional plane. The vignette crowning this boîte illustrates a sage clay-roofed home partially sheltered by a thick clove of trees, which in turn look out upon a lake whose peaceable waters are lazily grazed by no more than an oar, a sluggish boat and perhaps the lurkings of a few sly fish and drafts. But equally blanketing this ambiance is a hint of nostalgia, nameless and unseen. Like the force of that which causes the birth of a ripple (something which, after making contact with the water’s surface, nearly always disappears from view), this unnamed nostalgia may also have served as the force from which this watercolour was born. What we, the audience, may perceive as familiar and comforting, let alone idyllic, varies among us slightly, like the way a disturbance in clear water may distill a handful of distortions reflecting one thing. Unlike the chocolats fins (which likely vanished instantly), it is no wonder that this nostalgic force chooses to remain, over sixty years since its printing, happily forlorn within its circular confines, never to set off beyond its gilt rim.

Ulyana Sergeenko

(by?) Ulyana Sergeenko 

Brocaded Coat

2010 (?)

     A masterwork of embroidered finery, this floor-length robe resembles the fiery hide of a predatory beast, beautifully formidable and dangerous. Every one of its threads undulates and slithers in unison with the steady prowling of its mistress, as does each hair lining the fur of a calculating lynx or leopardess. As a work of art, its energy lies in its bold proclamation of presence rather than in a sly, survivalist mimicry of its surroundings, an ability which this robe proudly lacks. Its will to live (or indeed, its method of hunt) uses this energy of personal aesthetics to pacify any reservations or doubts felt by its audience (its prey). It draws in its victims under the false pretences of innocent charm; it toys with their weakness to want a little bit more, to see what lays beneath the décor. This coat trickily plays a game tailored to its own advantage, engrossing all who pause in its shadow - savagely slaying all who melt in its wake.

Paul Poiret

Paul Poiret

Carte Postale for la Poudre de Rosine (published by Robaudy)

circa 1920

     Crouched like flamboyant birds of prey, these exquisite fabric-covered creatures exist to elegantly cup trays of blush power. Their thick-stringed, tasselled headpieces permit one’s fingers to slide off the domed (and ‘pillbox’) hats with smooth sophistication, allowing minimal contact with the headpieces themselves. Snuggled within, the lidded trays, cylindrical and cool-coloured, face upwards - rather as a nesting chick greeting its parents, eager for attention. Raised on a slight pedestal, each is appropriated an importance like an artefact within a museum. Its focus is emphasised through the relationship of its placement, the aesthetics of its display case and the strength of its visual vernacular. The latter point is likely this trio’s strongest aspect: each in its own way lures in the lingering eye with its high-strung mesh of popping, tightly-spun colour. A kind of kaleidoscopic effect tunes in one’s vision, delicately reeling the observer nearer and nearer with its swirling, hypnotising pattern. Camouflaged to entice, Poiret’s creatures are both crafty and cunning, set on using their instinctual call to harness as many powder-hungry joues as possible to their will.