Reflections & Research. Comparing Contemporary and Traditional Textiles.

Last time, I looked at some of the material I've been collecting. This time, as part of the same research point, the folder has asked me to look at ways in which contemporary textile design contrasts with still-popular traditional designs that offer different associations to the consumer - for example, nostalgia for a different time. Whilst I've chosen a topic that is firmly contemporary to look at for this post, whether it can be considered 'available to the consumer' is debatable. However, it's an interesting area, and one that has interested me a good deal recently. I want to look at the different techniques used by textile arts designers, and in particular the kind who are often employed by a fashion house to come up with a headline-grabbing idea for their new show. The first person I've chosen to look at is Iris van Herpen. A Dutch fashion designer, she recently caught my attention (personally, though in fashion circles, she is of international renown) by showing clothes that were made with a 3D printer, and therefore (as she proudly states in her website's pamphlet for the collection, Escapism), required no sewing or handwork of any kind. This produced 'clothing' such as this:

Credit to this Dutch fashion site.

And laser-cut 'fabrics' such as this:

Credit to her official site, here.

This is, of course, only to be expected when such a cult exists around a new piece of technology - the rise of the 3D printer is certainly something commented upon in the media very often, and the fashion world being what it is, it must be obviously current and cutting-edge to keep up. But, I wonder - fashion being basically an off-shoot of the textile branch of art, whether the change in materials (these two outfits, I understand, are made entirely from plastic) means that these pieces don't qualify as textile pieces at all, although they fulfil the same purpose, and are approached with the same design ideas in mind. Perhaps, but then, synthetic fibres, such as nylon and rayon are just as processed as the basic materials used to make these pieces. So perhaps it's the way they're made? After all, rayon and nylon are at least spun into threads and woven or knitted into cloth. Well, that could also be true. But then, are we to say that anything that doesn't use a traditional method to make a cloth can't be used by a true textile artist? For instance, vinyl raincoats and tablecloths, or a lamé dress, which is, after all, gold leaf applied to plastic mesh. On Collins English Dictionary, for example, 'textile' is defined vaguely as "1. any fabric or cloth, esp woven. 2. raw material suitable to be made into cloth; fibre or yarn.". There is no mention of the origin of the 'raw material', and only two examples are given. There is no definite boundary given for the techniques used, only the phrase "especially woven". Surprisingly, the Oxford Dictionary is even more ambiguous: "Noun. A type of cloth or woven fabric". A type of cloth OR woven fabric? Well, their definition of 'cloth' hardly clears things up. "Woven or felted fabric made from wool, cotton, or a similar fibre". Surely it can be argued that Jersey fabrics, with their knitted structure, are kinds of cloth, though they are not woven or felted in the stricter sense? So, if modern design of clothing, and in particular, new materials being involved in it's production (even if ancestors of those new materials have been involved, one way or another, for the best part of a century in manufacture), are still on the borderline with textile arts, can this type of clothing be argued as a viable branch of modern textiles?

Credit to Neri Oxman.

This is a piece - one of several in the collection - that is again constructed by 3D printer, then filled out with selected micro-organisms that (if I understand the press release correctly) are to generate and store oxygen. They are billed on the designer, Neri Oxman's website as "3D printed wearable capillaries designed for interplanetary pilgrims". It's incredibly 'sci-fi'. At first glance, you might assume that this was the next step on - as far removed from our origins of simple woollen cloth as possible. But think about it - if this strategy evolves, as surely it will (it's a fantastic idea, if nothing else) and it becomes useful in a new environment, then surely it continues in the greatest purpose of textiles - that of using the tools around you to create a personal shelter, whether from the elements, from illness, or from other people. The idea of creating a kind of micro-biotic colony that you can transport sounds mad, but it builds on current technology by bringing further, natural ingredients 'to the table'.

So, whilst we're impressed by the ideas behind the future of textiles, let's take a moment to appreciate more traditional methods. It is clothing that has, arguably, formed the core of our history in textiles, and so for far comparison I will keep it as my topic. Simplifying wildly, and abridging ruthlessly, let's think about a little of it's evolutionary trail. Once the problems of being cold, being burnt by the sun, being wet, or being engulfed by a sandstorm were partially overcome, at least for the leaders of our oldest societies, what one wore was more than ever indicative of social standing. You showed that not only could you afford to provide adequate clothing to protect your family/tribe/group/self from the weather, but you could afford to be more elaborate, and less practical, because you wouldn't be dragging your clothing through mud, up trees, or into fields. If we look at even the most isolated group of people, or the poorest, or those who live(d) in the most extreme situations, there is always some kind of social structure, and therefore, some kind of signal to others in the appearance of the leader(s) as to who was in charge. And this was invariably something to do with the way they dressed. Since that point, further markers, not just those of authority, have been developed in dress. This is most notable in the dress of people who represented well-thought-of professions, or people with a religious rank, for example, scribes and master masons in ancient Egypt, or the high priests of Jerusalem in the early centuries BC, both of whom had garments that were firmly restricted to their class and occupations. Later on, in Medieval and (at least for Britain) Tudor society, it was possible to know exactly what rank a nobleman was by the kind of fur with which he lined his cloak. But surely no society of any time had a system not just of clothing, but of all design, that contained symbols in every shape, harmony in every item, and respect in every gesture, than Japan. Japan is a perfect candidate for comparison with contemporary textiles, for not only is it constantly drawing on inspiration from all corners of the globe and combining it with an utterly unique perspective, but it has a great sense of tradition, of what is appropriate and when, and a powerful feeling of it's own identity. Of course, the great icon of Japanese dress is what is popularly known as 'a Kimono', though in Japanese, if I understand correctly, this translates more easily to clothing oneself as a concept, and less to do with one or more items of dress. So let's take a look at a very traditional ensemble. 

Credit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY

This is an Uchikake, a formal or wedding kimono, held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. It dates from around 1800, and is a combination of dyeing techniques and embroidery. Here's a close-up of the embroidery in the lower right corner.

This particular Uchikake is designed in quite a reserved style, which one might think was characteristic of Japanese design overall, but this is not the case - for me, this item is a piece of art which has it's beauty mainly in it's arrangement. The composition of the motifs is what makes it stand out - of course, when you look more closely, you can also see the incredible artisan workmanship that has helped to bring the vision of the designer to life, and that is of equal worth with the design, if not more, but the way that it, as a garment, turns you into a gallery for artwork with a legacy of literally centuries, if not millennia of tradition... The refinement of that time is evident in every part of the piece. Now, I said that the reserved look of this garment is not always the case - the best example I could find of this is pictured below, but frustratingly without a date.

Credit to this Japanese Photography Blog.

This example is another Uchikake, but as you can see, this is much more heavily and brightly embroidered (whether by hand or machine, though as there are a couple of visible repeats, I would tend to say machine). As I can't be sure of the date, I think that I will say it's fairly recent, but obviously with a basis in traditional design. There are many different types of flowers depicted, and equally brightly-coloured birds can be seen in swooping poses moving across the surface. To many people in the modern age, the sheer amount of bright colour and clustered decoration seems unwise, not to say a little unsophisticated and perhaps 'trying too hard'. Personally, I think it's a terrible shame to put up boundaries to 'good taste' that limit the amount of work and decoration an artist includes in their work - surely the more time you are willing to dedicate to project, the more you value it, and the more others can appreciate how much work you put in. Of course, it's a different question depending on the medium, but when it comes to traditional dress, would it really be right to impose our modern "standards" of what is good design?
Lastly, I'd like to show this recent Kimono, which I believe is printed (again, there is little information provided) and which is inspired by the Aurora Borealis.

Northern Lights Kimono, origin unknown.

Now, the folder has asked me to consider what it is that keeps traditional designs popular. I think it's a combination of factors. In the case of the Kimono, it's partly because there are occasions where it (or a simplified modern version of it) are the only truly appropriate things to be worn, partly because they are such an icon of the country, it's history, and it's artistic heritage, and partly because whatever your background, they are undeniably beautiful. I hope that they will still have a place for many years.