On the 9th December the Museum at FIT, in New York, opened an exhibition dedicated to Seduction in Fashion. I have followed the exhibitions at the museum for a while now and earlier this year, when I realised they were hosting a show on Christian Louboutin and desire, the distance separating me from those glorious objects almost became too much. With this new show, though, enough would have been enough and I would have had to find a way of going to New York City, despite the fact that I have another visit planned for the East coast later on in the year. I say would have, because I am now definitely going to see Seduction. Moreover, I have been invited to speak about it in conversation with the curator, Colleen Hill. An honour, a delight. This will take place on the 18th February 2009. If you happen to be around, and want to hear something around perversion, the pleasure of dressing up and scopophilia, do come along.
Edit: see comment below: John Rawlings, Anna-Lee Daniels modeling for Vogue photoshoot, 15 October 1947, gift of the Estate of John Rawlings (from FIT Museum Facebook site).
Those of you who do not read these pages through an RSS feed may have noticed that I have been busy. Indeed, my website has had a complete design overhaul following a Dada imperative. Welcome to Dadala, visually conceived by Neil Scott. I hope the new look will allow me to be more mischievous.
Aside from that, I have been to and fro London, Sheffield and Glasgow to see my supervisors. Supervision is not too far from therapy, as Sharon and I outlined in our paper, and I really needed these encounters. If anything, to know I am not going completely mad. I now have a thesis structure, a wonderful idea for a denouement chapter, a set of deadlines, and the clarity that my new piece of work has a place in what I do. This new piece is called Sujet Supposé Savoir, and is a work stemming from my experience of psychoanalysis, during which I kept a precise clinical diary. The 40,000 words of the diary are now on their way to becoming an A5, flesh coloured bookwork, where the reader-viewer will only be able to access keywords, headers and page numbers, as the rest will be printed on the same pink colour as the background of the page. It will still be printed, though, which means a nosy collector may one day read all about my unconscious defacing the artwork by running a pencil through the pages. That is the price. When it comes to the art world, one cannot have one’s cake and eat it, even through that is pretty much the rule of the unconscious.
Why would anyone want to read it, anyway? I suspect that there would be no surprises on what one would find there. Not even for myself. Especially not for me. Still, it is a highly seductive concept, I find, like those closed doors children always feel drawn to.
The pages also denote a rhythm, a rhythm of sessions, of black breaks, of invoices, of letters, of repetitious topics that keep coming back. A lull, a homely space, somewhere to return to. I don’t yet have images to post, but I’ll surprise you with them very soon. This work will go very well with the new web-me.