Klimt and Pattern

I have always liked Vienna Secession artist Gustav Klimt’s work. His paintings are so rich in detail, ornamented with a riot of pattern and lavished with gilt. I have always loved Byzantine art too for this same reason; Klimt’s two-dimensional pictures recall the mosaic patterns and arabesque colours and designs of Byzantium. Of course Klimt’s subjects are sensual rather than religious, but they are equally glorious.

A Klimt-like pose – click for larger versionFor a long time I had thought about creating my own picture in homage to the Secessionst, but could not decide how; to simply decorate a photograph with Klimtesque swirls and floral motifs seemed obvious and not true to my own style besides. But it is the patterns, and colours (apart from the women obviously) that are so striking about his paintings, and earlier this week I suddenly hit on it. I would use printed and embroidered fabric to emulate Klimt’s ornamentation. I even had the perfect vintage dress. Years ago I had done a story on lingerie, and I recalled a particular pose (right) that had reminded me of Klimt’s painting Danae (below). Then a quick hit on Google for additional visuals of Klimt’s paintings lead me to The Virgin (below). 

Danae, 1907–08The Virgin, Gustav Klimt, 1913

I pulled out of storage an Indian bed sheet I had purchased from an exotic homewares store in Penrith, NSW when I was about 16 (I fell in love with it, and bought it even though it was very expensive for me at the time); another enormous length of spangled and tie-dyed silk (part of a sari perhaps) purchased in vintage store The Jazz Garter in Sydney, also many years ago; and some embroidered gold fabric the origin of which I do not recall. The cotton maxi dress is also vintage, possibly 1970s, purchased from Fat Helen’s in Chapel St a few years ago. Although I love the dress, it is so hot to wear, there are so many metres of fabric in it. The pattern is a perfect rendition of Klimt’s florals however.

The young girl(s) in The Virgin look rather like they are lolling on an enormous bed (the painting depicts the transition of a girl into a woman), and accordingly I cast the fabrics on my bed, set up the camera on its tripod and threw myself on top, arranging the folds of my dress artistically. It’s not so easy to compose this kind of image when one can’t look through the viewfinder, and I probably shot the equivalent of ten rolls of film before I ended up with a few pictures I was happy with. (Some I have included in the Out-takes & Extras gallery, including the full image of the details below.) I call it The Sleeper. 

Read about Gustav Klimt here.

Detail (from one of the out-takes), original photo (left) and the picture utilising the typical SNAP filter effects (right). Click for a closer look.The Photoshop painting filter I used in these images creates an interesting effect. Detail (from one of the out-takes), final image with additional painting texture at 70% opacity (left) and image showing painting filter at 100% (right). Click for a closer look.

The Naughtiest Girl in the School

* Butter Wouldn’t Melt in Her Mouth**

It’s the first day back at school for most Victorian students today. Can’t say I’m sad those days are long over, but there was one school in my childhood that I adored reading about, and that was Enid Blyton’s Malory Towers series. It was the boarding school of your dreams (not of your nightmares, unlike the brutal reality), and I remember being so disappointed when my big sister kindly told me that it was not in fact a real school. Apparently lots of little English schoolgirls wrote to Ms Blyton, asking the location of Malory Towers. 

How I loved reading about the adventures of Daryl, the heroine, and her friends Sally and Mary-Lou, the mischievous, tricksy Alicia, and the outrageous Gwendolyn (who, in the holidays, never got up before 8 o’clock); Will, who loved horses and her intrepid friend Clarissa; and the American girl who visited one term and alternately amused and shocked all the other girls with her antics, her dreams of treading the boards, and by wearing too much makeup. But then she got caught in the rain or something, suffered an attach of influenza that put her right in her read, and thereafter she wore her hair in plaits and was much nicer, and everyone liked her.

There was that beautiful rockpool that was refreshed whenever the tide came in, midnight feasts, the mysterious and exciting game of lacrosse, kindly Matron, and hilarious tricks to play on the French Mamselles. The North Tower with its view of the sea was where you wanted to sleep though.

I suppose kids today daydream about attending Hogwarts instead. 

** A somewhat accurate translation.

Kent College exterior image taken out from here, and classroom on loan from Miss Terrious.

Cherry Picking

Last year I stumbled across a fantastical image by fashion illustrator Helen Dryden, featuring a lady wearing a cherry hat and surrounded by butterflies. It was a serendipitous discovery, for I had recently purchased a delicious little burnt orange straw hat trimmed with cherries on eBay from Tarnished Past.

Cover illustration by Helen Dryden, British Vogue, July 1914I decided to make a picture in homage to Dryden, for I had also bought a cherry print vintage dress on Etsy (I had gone on a bit of a cherry rampage). Both hat and dress are 1940s, and the cherries on the hat are made of celluloid. They make a lovely clicking sound when I move my head, and although the glaze is cracked and they feel terribly fragile yet heavy, I adore the hat. The onyx bauble earrings match quite nicely. I couldn’t match all the colours exactly however. The red paper umbrella is one I purchased from Chinatown last Chinese New Year for a couple of dollars.

It was difficult trying to match the pose of the woman in the illustration, contorting my body without being able to look through the viewfinder. It was almost impossible to hold the umbrella at that angle, nor could I manage to defy gravity and tip the hat on end – and my neck certainly is not quite that long! It goes to show that sometimes illustration can do a little more than photography. 

Seventies Sarah

When I was a child I collected illustrated swap cards, along with the majority of my peers. The most coveted cards of all were those by Sarah Kay. I made it my business to collect as many as I could, and I have always wanted to create a picture in homage.

Here I am with some serious Seventies styling, in a striped poncho style top and fedora. I’ve even done two thin braids on either side of my face. And nothing says Seventies décor more than a rattan chair and a potted palm.

All of these classic Sarah Kays were part of my original collection

Aurora

Aurora is the Roman goddess of the dawn. She renews herself every morning, flying across the sky to announce the arrival of the sun. What a pretty notion.

Today dawns on a new year, and it’s time to renew oneself – maybe make a few shiny promises and resolutions for the year ahead. (And maybe one of them should be to make sure they last beyond January!)

Let’s be optimistic: here’s wishes for a great year (even if it occasionally slaps us in the face), and remember, as my friend Rapunzel is fond of saying: always look up. The sun is shining on 2013 – and you might catch a glimpse of Aurora flashing past.