Sonia Delaunay and Tristan Tzara
Robe poème, Le ventillateur tourne ... (1922)
Photo: R. Riss / The Delaunay Estate (Paris)
According to an article in Vogue, poetry is back in fashion and a number of recent collections have been inspired by verse.
Pierpaolo Piccioli, for example, collaborated with several poets to create a series of garments for his autumn/winter 2019 Valentino collection, in an attempt to redefine romanticism for a digital generation (i.e., to transport millennials beyond the screen and into the realm of dreams).
Pierpaolo Piccioli, for example, collaborated with several poets to create a series of garments for his autumn/winter 2019 Valentino collection, in an attempt to redefine romanticism for a digital generation (i.e., to transport millennials beyond the screen and into the realm of dreams).
But of course, as Rosalind Jana reminds us:
"The dialogue between clothes and poetry isn’t a novel one. In the '20s, textile artist Sonia Delaunay collaborated with [...] Dadaist poets including Tristan Tzara and Joseph Delteil to cover a series of dresses in snippets of their poetry. She called them robes poèmes. None of the resulting works still exist, but illustrations show gorgeous, colour-blocked garments with words snaking across arms and descending down skirts."
As a philosopher on the catwalk, I'm naturally excited by this combination of words and fabrics - or text and textiles - animated by the body of the wearer. However, as more punk-provocateur than poet, I'm perhaps more interested in the possibilities that fashion provides for political sloganeering rather than the reproduction of lines of verse.
Thus, lovely as Delaunay's colourful designs could be - and as amusingly avant-garde as Tzara's poems were - I prefer the clothes of - or inspired by - McLaren and Westwood that incorporated Situationist slogans and lyrics by the Sex Pistols. I'm not sure to what extent (if any) these items brought about social and cultural change, but they certainly made one feel heroic and dangerous at the time.
I remember, for example, riding the rush hour tube in my youth and attempting to antagonise commuters by wearing a hand-painted shirt that read: 'Wise up sucker! Punch your boss, not the clock!'
Notes
Rosalind Jana, 'Why Poetry is Back in Fashion', Vogue (15 March 2019): click here to read online.
The poem by Tristan Tzara that appears on the dress design by Sonia Delaunay above reads in the original French:
Le ventillateur tourne
dans le coeur de la tête
La fleur du froid serpent
de tendresse chimique
Susan de Muth's English translation reads:
The extractor fan turns
In the head's heart
Bloom of the cold snake
Of chemical tenderness
See: Tristan Tzara and Susan de Muth, 'Dress Poems', Art in Translation, (Routledge, 2015), Vol. 7, No. 2, 304-308. Published online 17 August 2015: click here.
Thus, lovely as Delaunay's colourful designs could be - and as amusingly avant-garde as Tzara's poems were - I prefer the clothes of - or inspired by - McLaren and Westwood that incorporated Situationist slogans and lyrics by the Sex Pistols. I'm not sure to what extent (if any) these items brought about social and cultural change, but they certainly made one feel heroic and dangerous at the time.
I remember, for example, riding the rush hour tube in my youth and attempting to antagonise commuters by wearing a hand-painted shirt that read: 'Wise up sucker! Punch your boss, not the clock!'
c. 1984/85
Notes
Rosalind Jana, 'Why Poetry is Back in Fashion', Vogue (15 March 2019): click here to read online.
The poem by Tristan Tzara that appears on the dress design by Sonia Delaunay above reads in the original French:
Le ventillateur tourne
dans le coeur de la tête
La fleur du froid serpent
de tendresse chimique
Susan de Muth's English translation reads:
The extractor fan turns
In the head's heart
Bloom of the cold snake
Of chemical tenderness
See: Tristan Tzara and Susan de Muth, 'Dress Poems', Art in Translation, (Routledge, 2015), Vol. 7, No. 2, 304-308. Published online 17 August 2015: click here.
