Sunday Cinema: Jack Smith's "Normal Love"

The radical departure of life through art; it is what an audience must submit to while viewing a film by Jack Smith, especially his 1963 masterpiece "Normal Love". Before there was Fellini or Warhol, there was Jack Smith working out of his Hyperbole Photo Studio in the West Village, radically stepping outside of the McCarthy mess that was the 1950's. Oh yes, the McCarthy era: a period in which, to put it mildly, artistic tendencies of questioning the world around us were wholly rejected and looked upon with utter suspicion thanks to the practice of basing "disloyalty" on social criticism. Out of these post-WWII moments of social conformity, Smith came at the heart and soul of sweeping conservatism and banality with the most unbelievably lavish, erotic and fantastic displays of sensuality, love and the performative joys of life. 

I also love Jack Smith because he made Andy Warhol look like a fool (as his predecessor, it's only natural, but still). I loves me some Warhol, but he couldn't have done anything without Jack Smith's influence.

 According to Judith Jerome's book on Smith's life and work, Normal Love had been screened on and off  in its birth year of 1963, but it was only made available to the public once again after being reassembled in 1997. That's thirty years of it being relatively out of public sight, thanks to rising social expulsion and mistrust of "the other" in his films. It was his first color film, following his other 1963 film Flaming Creatures, which, although shot in black & white, has these intense performative moments that are so much like a Freudian head case that the scenes and "creatures" on the screen hit your brain in some frequency of metaphorical color. Normal Love is a more "commercial" follow-up from the orgies and scenes of nudity that would make audiences faint when Creatures was first shown. The increasing climate of censorship, as Jerome described it, pushed Smith to create these incredible scenes of lavish, colorful party-goers, dressed in satin and glittering makeup and headdresses. You have Mario Montez in a bathing cap and pearls, swimming in a milky liquid, you have Alice in Wonderland-meets-Ali Baba-meets-Weinmar-era Cabaret; everything presented in this film makes no goddamn sense and yet all the sense in the world as you just give in to the viewing pleasure of visual syrupy candy.

Jack Smith has had a profound effect on the way in which I try to see the world through art. It's been said that Smith would walk down the street in New York City and rearrange the trash on the curb to make it more aesthetically pleasing, and that sort of stuff just gives me goosebumps from how profound the sense of potential for beauty he had was. It's something I've tried to always emulate in the way I dress, in the way I perform my life and the way I try to give a double take towards things I don't fully understand. I like to think that life should be felt at all costs, especially the ugly and horrible shit, and Jack Smith is definitely a hero of mine for laying down the foundation for filming all the glitter, filth and beauty the world has to offer.

Sunday Cinema: Fantastic Planet/La Planète Sauvage

My parents took me to see this movie when I was really little- like, so little I had a hard time keeping up with the subtitles. We went to the IFC theater in downtown Manhattan, a theater that still shows absolutely lovely 35mm screenings of older films, and this was one hell of a trip for a middle schooler. To be honest, it scared the living crap out of me, I left that theater clutching my mom's hand tightly, terrified and in need of a giant pretzel.

 It took a revisiting of the film when I was 12 or so for me to really get it. This is juuuuuust when I started learning about surrealism 1. because I was wading in the adolescent soup of that teenage precursor to true self-discovery and 2. because I was too afraid to actually try drugs and get it over with. I've counted Roland Topor, who designed this film, as one of my favorite filmmakers since that intial rediscovery because, if anthing, this film just proves his genius.

Here's an incredibly roughly hewn summary of the film: The story takes place in another world, a world where humans are vastly subservient to humanoid alien beings called Traags. On the Traag planet (which is crawling with fabulous plant and animal life á la Hieronymus Bosch), humans or "oms" are treated as pets or vermin by the Traags, depending on which have been domesticated. The film follows Terr (a play on the French word Terre, meaning "earth"), a human who is raised as a pet by a well-to-do Traag child. As the film goes on, Terr breaks with his domesticated life and returns to his "roots" as a human being after becoming educated through a Traag learning device.

Two sensory things about this movie kick my ass:

1. It was HAND DRAWN. Damn film took 5 years to make, although that also had to do with the filmmaking process getting interrupted by the then-Sovet-occupied Czech government.

2. The music is absolutely incredible. Composed by Alain Goraguer, it's spooky and sexy in all the right ways: a jazz take on sci-fi. I bought the soundtrack on vinyl a few months ago and I play it when I want my environment to feel kinda syrupy and mysterious, like I'm unaware that something is hiding behind a corner.

Planet is one of those films where you need to sit down in a dark room and just let it happen, so go:

Sunday Cinema: Blow-Up

Having a photographer for a Dad, I kind of had my head up my own ass as a kid in a tiny high school thinking I immediately knew all the things about the importance of photography before I studied it in college, but it's taken a bunch of stuff- like this here film "Blow-Up" to see that I pretty much know zilch, and that there can be almost nothing more essential to being a person than a change in perspective from time-to-time. 

And now, little context:

Directed by Michelangelo Antonioni, Blow-Up was shot in London during 1965. 

During the 60's fashion photography experienced a new kind of pop sensationalism. All of which started with photographers like David Bailey, Richard Avedon, Cecil Beaton and William Klein. 

So, the film follows this dashing-yet-bossy asshole of a photographer played by David Hemmings, which is, essentially, the kind of personality one might expect expect from an artist who knows what he's doing. It's pretty much a day-in-the-life gone awry: He has a shoot with Veruschka in the morning (in a famous scene, which I'll get to in a bit), which makes him late for one fashion shoot after another, until finally, his nerves and boredom get the best of him, and he goes to a nearby park to shoot some photos for his own sake. After a run-in with some lovers he secretly photographs in the park, he later discovers, after developing the film, that he has photographed a murderer and a victim.

The film is of course, shot deliciously; mirroring a duality of precision and raw energy that (then) photographers channeled for their images. The cast is also just chock full of 60's icons like Jane Birkin and The Yardbirds, so you're constantly at the mercy of pretty faces and enviable creatures decked out in awesome clothes. It's a slow-moving film, but you're never in short supply of gorgeous imagery and fantastic performances.

And now, the takeaway:

About two years ago, I took an Aesthetics class at Parsons.

The class, taught by this dude named Paul Kottman (who was also a guidance counselor of mine), dealt in aesthetic philosophy, literature and the social factors which have an effect on the ways in which we perceive art. Our professor (wisely) chose Blow-Up as an excellent way to summarize some of the points made by Walter Benjamin in his seminal work The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. To quickly summarize, Benjamin sought to explore the ways in which a work of art might depend on contexts- such as reproductions, historical scenarios, subject matter, shifts in taste, and technical achievements in order to be considered a wholehearted original.

One of the most important elements of art that Benjamin describes is the "aura", or, the element in a work of art that its reproduction would lack; the truth, the essence of the moment and the artist. Photography is a funny thing, because it's an art from that 1) Relies on a machine with some technical expertise on the part of the photographer and 2) Is, inherently, the art of reproduction. When you have a negative of a photograph, you can print or expose it any time you'd like, so calling a photo an "original" is kind of impossible. 

For Benjamin, and as the subjects in Blow-Up demonstrate, everyone has their own aura, and everyone "gives it up" when they step in front of the lens of a camera to be photographed, and this is a very, very powerful thing. I mean, in the movie, when Hemmings' character is photographing Veruschka, in the heat of a very intense arch int he shoot, he shouts and orders her to "Give it to me!!" The "it" that he is referring to is the model's aura, the very essence of her presence in front of the lens that will make his work something of value.

Do you ever think about your aura? In this historical moment of blogs, instagrams, facebook... how much of our auras have we given up?  This, essentially, is part of what Blow-Up can teach us.

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Sunday Cinema: Jan Svankmajer's Alice

   

I had a gruesome realization the other day: I have kept my various obsessions outside of Fashion totally hidden from my blog, and I really couldn't tell you why exactly. Perhaps it's been out of fear that I would end up writing hefty posts into the night, rendering myself into an sleepless, obsessive stupor. Maybe it's because I haven't known where to begin, or maybe, just maybe, I've just been too afraid that nobody would care. Well, at this point, I'd rather be writing about shit I actually care about rather than just walking in front of a camera all the time wearing stuff. So, I'm thinking from now on, I'll be showing you guys some of my favorite foreign, classic and independent films with a side of info every Sunday, because there is almost nothing I love more than watching and talking about films and my favorite filmmakers.

For my first installment, De Lune Presents: Alice

Jan Svankmajer is hands-down my favorite animator and short film director. To give a sense of his style, all I might have to tell you is that he is from Prague, because man, does he embody the dark, mysterious beauty of that city like nothing else. Like Franz Kafka, another Czech genius to come out of Prague, Svankmajer uses his craft to produce cerebral moments of dark humor with playful execution and, at times, troubling imagery of bodily assemblage. He uses toys, puppets, clay and other bits of ephemera to create totally surreal situations with absolutely insane precision. His stuff is aggressive, but all the while, he maintains a child's perspective, which is important when understanding his totally twisted sense of humor. Although Svankmajer presents his audiences with these totally cerebral and kind of disturbing images, it's all in an effort to marry our insecurities with a sense of curiosity and fantasy.

For  some "appetizer" films, check out his shorts Jabberwocky, Punch and Judy and Dimensions of Dialogue. All of these use stop-motion animation to explore some really weird situations with effortless humor and this sort of weird pseudo-Edwardian dark imagery. Gotta love it.

Now, Alice, also known as Něco z Alenky, or "Something From Alice" is loosely based on Alice in Wonderland in that the storyline follows Alice through her discovery and relationships with the characters she meets within her dreamworld, but everything is slightly askew in that this feels infinitely more Edwardian in its weirdness than any other incarnation of Alice in Wonderland that you're ever likely to see. This movie isn't the "cute" Disney or Hallmark version you saw at home, rather it's the darker version of Carroll's story that needs to exist in order to really get a full understanding of how truly insane the imagination can be. 

So, without further ado,

Enjoy, guys, lemme know what you thought.

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A Studio Visit With Bande Des Quatres

God, I love the internet, because after an intro via Instagram, I was able to meet Erin Wahed, the endlessly inspiring mind behind Bande Des Quatres.

I found myself in Erin's wonderfully colorful East Village apartment earlier this week to discuss her design process and get to know how Bande Des Quatres gets its signature look of fine art studio-meets-contemporary fashion jewelry. Erin wears mostly black and white, preferring to wear her amazing, streamlined peroxide blonde hair combed back. She explained that while she enjoys wearing mostly netural colors and graphic lines, she also prefers to surround herself with beatiful colors and textures, a preference that stems out of her roots in the visual realm of photography.

While romping through the velvet boxes containging Erin's entire collections of rings, bracelets and earrings inspired by artists and designers that get her goat, Erin gave me the scoop as to why she's been very selective in how she presents the brand and keeps it from getting too far from its studio roots- a preference that doesn't stray too far from home (A Montreal native, Erin's mom  is none other than renowned jewelry designer Janis Kerman, who has exhibited her works as both jewelry and fine art since the 70's). Working with beautiful precious metals and stones (like tiny rough-cut black diamonds set into gold and silver), Erin has based her nearly surreal and illusionary designs off of artists and designers she loves, like architect Van der Rohe or the students of the Bauhaus like Kandinsky or Paul Klee. Her rings appear to "float" or move through someone's stream of fingers, while her double-backed earrings peek through hair and play off the joys of asymmetry. Erin's work captivates because it ignites an onlooker's sense of curiosity with beautiful simplicity and just the right amount of technical proficiency and craftsmanship.

I could've looked through those boxes foreveverever, and it totally would've been possible for the sheer fact that every piece works beautifully together in layers. Erin says her next collection is going to cover necklaces, but she's still tinkering with her inspirational concepts. It was then, as she listed her possible ideas for what's next that I realized, donned in the BDQ pieces I had been playing with, that I would not mind being covered head-to-toe in anything that came out of Erin's head.

Find BDQ online or at Oak 

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Studio Visit: Lulu Frost

I first came to know about Lisa "Lulu" Salzer's designs for her brand, Lulu Frost, about 3 years back or so after reading a piece in Teen Vogue about her now-iconic Plaza & Code collections. Her aesthetic goes much further and is one that is unforgettable and completely unique; effortlessly blending together Victorian, Art Deco and Nouveau designs with more modern takes on timeless classics. It's everything I love: high-low, totally committed to highlighting craftsmanship and defined through personal experience.

I've been quietly ADORING AND OBSESSING over Lisa's work for some time now, so you could only imagine the palpitations and crazy excitement I experienced when I was invited to work with Lisa as an ambassador and visit her studio. Like, dudes, I walked in, and it was like I had died and gone to a space where multiple decades were being lived through design, which is AMAZING. First thing about the studio is Lisa herself, who is incredibly kind and inspired so much by the world around her (Fun fact: both of us happen to wear the same shade of pink lipstick: Sephora's Love Test). It's really great energy to be around. She grew up with her Mother and Maternal Grandmother (née Rock Frost, from which the brand is named after) working in the estate jewelry business, so she was constantly surrounded by these beautiful antique pieces. In 2004 she launched Lulu Frost and since then she has been featured in every magazine you could think of and has had her pieces carried everywhere from Net-A-Porter to Bergdorfs. Oh, and did I mention she currently has a capsule collection with Jcrew? Because it's basically a match made in heaven.

Being given a studio tour by the actual designer behind a collection is really an amazing experience. You are able to hear about the exact vision and personal experience that a collection embodies. Lisa walked me through Spring '12, which was inspired by the beach visits of her childhood in Montauk. Rough-cut stones that resemble sea glass, pearls and feather brooches intermingled with silk orchids brought together unexpected elements perfectly, especially in her 100 year collection as well, which brings together elements that range from 1860-1960; vintage shoe clips, pins, hair combs.. a never-ending assortment of uniquely crafted pieces that are brought together in one collaged statement piece. Each one is completely individual.

Whenever you order something from Lulu Frost, it takes about 10 days or so to be made because each piece is completely handmade. For example, as you can see above, each mesh bib used in her Modern Vintage collection is hand-cut with each section mathematically counted and adorned with vintage pins once finished. Her Plaza collection uses letters and numbers taken from the iconic Plaza Hotel, using history in a way that is personal and a unique experience for a wearer. Seeing everything being made was a blast and super inspiring, but my absolute favorite part of the visit was being able to sift through Lisa's absolutely amazing old sewer's button cabinet full of odds 'n ends. Each drawer is organized by cool detailing and color. It was amazing to be able to see so many completely unique things I had never seen before all in one place. Lisa's desk was also insanely cool and collaged to the ceiling with things that inspire her; photos, hat pins, jewelry, magazine cut outs, illustrations... all things absolutely amazing.

I left Lisa's studio starry-eyed and completely inspired. I learned that so much more is possible when you embrace contrasts and that the things you love deep-down are made all the much more special when they become a part of your everyday.

Stop by the Lulu Frost Tumblr to get even more personal tips and bits from Lisa & her team. There's always something there to inspire.