Into the Darkroom

After – three layers of textures dignify an Easter still life with age

Some people pay good money to have their creased and cracked vintage family photos restored. I find it far more satisfying to go the other way. With the judicious layering of textures in Photoshop, I remove the veneer of clarity from my digital photos. It’s sort of like going back into the darkroom, but the reverse.

Age mellows out brash snapshots; distinguishes them; bestows on them a genteel air of days of yore. Call it fakery if you will – I prefer the term instant nostalgia. 

Before (sort of before) – a single textured frame softens a photo just a little

Print Upon Pattern

The Costume of the Ballets Russes

Bakst’s costume design for The Firebird, 1910Famed as the greatest ballet company of the last century, the Ballets Russes captured the public’s imagination and changed the concept of ballet globally, through its new and groundbreaking dance, art and music with Avant-Garde, Expressionist and Oriental influences. With Sergei Diaghilev at its head, and a company of dancers originating from St Petersburg, it performed itinerantly between 1909 and 1929 causing a sensation wherever it travelled.

Diaghilev commissioned many significant visual artists and designers of the early twentieth century, such as Picasso, Matisse, Miró, Dalí and Chanel to name just a few. Often these artists were responsible for both set and costume.

Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes

Bakst’s Odalisque costume and Nijinsky, from Shéhérazade, 1910Bakst’s costume and design for Shah Zeman in Shéhérazade, 1910-1930sBakst’s Columbine costume design for Carnaval in 1942 (left) and Columbine and Harlequin in 1911 (right)One of the lasting legacies of the Ballets Russes are the costumes, not least because they survive from an era when documentary film was only in its infancy. Intricately designed and multi-layered costumes feature multiple textiles, with print piled upon pattern in surprising combinations. Bold in design and colour, they shocked audiences used to a very different and traditional style of costume. Compare these to ballerinas in tutus (think Degas’ ballerina paintings), and you can easily imagine how jaws must have dropped in astonishment.

Madame Fedorova as Cléopatra in 1913, ph E.O. HoppéCompare the execution with the drawing: a Syrian Dancer’s costume for Cléopatra, by Bakst, 1909

[Bakst] became famous for his exotic, richly coloured sets and costumes …

Goncharova’s design for a female costume in Le Coq d'Or, 1914Leon Bakst is a particular favourite of mine. One of the most important designers for the Ballets Russes, Bakst took on the role of artistic director at the ballet’s formation. He became famous for his exotic, richly coloured sets and costumes, particularly for Scheherazade, Firebird and Le Spectre de la Rose. Another Russian designer, Natalia Goncharova, was inspired by Russian folk art, fauvism and cubism, and along with a vivid sense of colour, these influences are visible in her work. (Read a previous post on her here.)

Back then Coco Chanel and Paul Poiret were two fashion designers both inspired by the Ballets Russes, whose impact has scarcely lessened today.

Bakst’s costume design for a Nymph in L'Après-midi d'un Faune, 1912Bakst’s costume design for a Nymph in L'Après-midi d'un Faune, 1912; you could easily wear this as a light summer dress todayBakst’s costume design for an attendant (1910), and Monsieur Adolph Bolm (1913), both for L'Oiseau de Feu; ph E.O. Hoppé

Madame Thamar Karsavina in Bakst’s costume for L'Oiseau de Feu, 1913; ph E.O. HoppéBakst’s costume design for La Sultan, The Firebird, 1910Bakst’s costume design for The Firebird, 1910

Unless otherwise indicated, images from National Gallery of Australia’s exhibition Ballets Russes, The Art of Costume.

A Tribute to Malory Towers

I love how awkward Darrell looks here, walking smash into Mam’zelleIn winter 2002, the Australian label Gorman printed a series of promotional cards that were inspired by Enid Blyton’s book series set in the English boarding school Malory Towers.

I came across them in the store Fat, and grabbed them up in gleeful joy, laughing so much over Darrell’s awkwardness as she smashes into Mam’zelle, and Mary-Lou’s deliciously hideous black eyes.

Mary-Lou looks fabulously sulky and surly with her hood drawn upIf you are familiar with Blyton’s series, you will know that most of these girls were good little girls who suffered through the usual trials and tribulations of teenage angst. They either learned their lessons well, and went on to become sensible, dependable young women that England could rely on, or they came to a bad end. This disagreeable and uncertain future was usually reserved for those whiny fat girls who didn’t like sports, or the ones obsessed with becoming an actress and wore far too much makeup.

What I love about the Gorman cards is that they totally subvert Blyton’s bright-eyed and bushy-tailed storytelling (don’t get me wrong, I adored the books when I was 13), and these girls look altogether cooler and smarter than the original models. 

Innocent mischief – if memory serves me, these pellets made one of their teaches sneeze endlesslyWhat is that nogoodnik Mary-Lou up to here?Gorman’s Winter 2002 campaign

Happy-Go-Lucky Land

Look what I found amongst a stack of childhood memorabilia! This happy little land is full of creatures fantastical and exotic: strange little monsters snarl and sneak cookies from the cookie shrub in company with exotic beasts from faraway lands: elephants, seals, penguins. Kitties and a spotty frog sunbathe; an owl sleepily stares from its hollow; a yellow bird is surprised in its treehouse. A snail and a caterpillar exchange greetings out on the morning crawl. Butterflies cavort and lovebunnies float out of the shimmering sea.

I drew a series of these pictures, but this seems to be the only survivor of the years. The only other one I recall distinctly was a snowy winter scene, peering through the windows into a cosy room lit up for Christmas. What a smile this gave me, and how quickly the years have gone by.

Guilt-free

I adore these porcelain ice creams by Adelaide artist Wayne McAra. They look absolutely good enough to eat, totally guilt-free (ahem). They celebrate his childhood memories of visiting his grandmother, who was sincerely convicted of the goodness of ice cream, and served a little at the end of every meal.

He also serves these gilt-free, in delicate pastel tints – although I prefer the luxury version myself.