The Versailles Project: Inspiration

This year I am heading on a new adventure into the 18th century! I've always been interested in 18th century history (Boston is so full of it, it's hard not to develop an appreciation), but never enough to actually break into the clothing. This year I'm getting a big push--I'm heading to a pretty fabulous party at the Palace of Versailles this May. It's a costume-required event, and I'm focusing all my sewing efforts on building the proper attire from the inside out. So far I'm still on undergarments (more on that soon!), but in the meantime, here are some of my inspirations for the final ensemble (a robe a la francaise, because what else would you wear to Versailles?):

Marianne Camasse, 1764

Princess de Lamballe

1765, the Met Museum

1770, State Museums of Berlin

1760, LACMA

Portrait of a Lady, 1768

Notice a theme? Bows. I am really into bows. My gown will be dusky lavender silk, and I'm planning on yellow bows (and possibly yellow shoes--I have a pair of Kensingtons waiting for decoration) with self fabric trim. To the 18th century!

The BPG circa 1900-1918

I am so looking forward to spending tomorrow afternoon lounging and playing croquet in the BPG on our first 1900s-ish picnic of the summer!

photos I took the last time I was there, for my birthday. the gate to the BPG from Boston Common (or rather, this is the side leaving the garden back to the common)

(Sometimes I forget that not everyone uses their weekends as between-week oases of beauty and adventure, often ending up in or around the Boston Public Gardens. So when I mention at work that my plans are to hang out in "the BPG," no one has a clue what I'm talking about; but when you say it as often as we do, the acronym becomes necessary.)

swan boats crossing under the bridge

view of the city from across the park (which would make that...the corner of Arlington?)

It's been raining all week thanks to this weird summer Nor'Easter we've been having, but at some point today the clouds broke and it warmed right up. It promises to be a glorious weekend, and I am thrilled. The BPG is one of my favorite places to soak up some beauty over the weekend, and as an added bonus there are baby ducks(!) right now. Hooray!

croquet!

I've taken this as an opportunity to throw up some of the pictures I took the last time I was there because it was such a gorgeous day, but really I wanted to share a couple of images from the Museum of Fine Arts Boston. These were painted around the time we'll be channeling tomorrow, and are so so pretty.

Late November Afternoon, Public Garden. Arthur Clifton Goodwin, 1905.

Boston Public Garden. Artist unknown, 1910-1915

The Public Garden, Boston. George Loring Brown, 1869 (or later)

If you're in the Boston area tomorrow, stop by and say hello!

Quick Review: Impressionism, Fashion, and Modernity

About a month ago the fates aligned, and I found myself with well-loved (and highly tolerant) friends, a free afternoon, and in New York City. I'd seen the special exhibit (currently travelling, but not coming to Boston, boo!) Impressionism, Fashion, and Modernity advertised on the Metropolitan Museum of Art's website, but didn't think I'd be able to go...and then I did! And it was AMAZING!

I've seen several exhibits (including the Alexander McQueen retrospective, which was incredible) in the space where the Met has the IFM exhibit housed, and whoever designs their layouts is a genius. It's always different, and always well-suited to the collection. IFM was quite simple, with galleries organized by themes in the art. The galleries themselves weren't decorated, which drew my eye quickly to the connections between the paintings and dresses on display. There were also several quotes by impressionists and related figures on the walls. Immediately when you enter you are presented with one such quote:

"the latest fashion...is absolutely necessary for a painting. It's what matters most." Manet, 1881

The collection of paintings is a treat, both as a lover of beauty in general and specifically as a lover of the impressionist movement. I was able to see previously-never-seen-in-real-life (having never been to the Musee d'Orsay) paintings by the famous (Monet, Cassatt, Degas, Manet, Renoir, Tissot) and some lesser-knowns that I happen to adore (Bartholomé, Caillebotte).

The Millinery Shop, Degas, 1882-1886 (this was one of my favorite paintings as a small child. It was part of a board game based on art auctioning that I loved. Seeing it in person for the first time was so cool! also HATS!!)

The exhibit itself is hugely fascinating, with threads that discuss the evolution and partnership of fashion, consumer culture, industrial technology, and aesthetics. I bought the exhibition book, so when I finally get around to reading it I'll try to write another post discussing the analysis in depth.

the gallery called "Consumer Culture" included several beautiful examples of factory-made garments (like the corsets pictured above--by the way, the far right was made locally in Worcester, MA!) paired with paintings, like one of Degas's dressing scenes (on the wall at right), which are my favorite Degas themes

One of the most exciting things about this exhibit as a costumer was the comparison between clothing and its representation in the paintings. Several of the dresses on display are the actual dresses worn by the subjects in the accompanying works. So cool!

In the Conservatory (Mme Bartholome), Bartholome, c.1881

summer dress worn by Mme Bartholome in the painting above, 1880. White cotton with printed purple patterns.

This example happened to be one of my favorites, both because I love the in-between-bustle/natural form period, and because it has purple polka dots and stripes! 

Seeing the transition of the patterns and styles from life to impressionist reinterpretations was really interesting, and also a helpful thing to think about when using images like this as inspiration for future projects. And I desperately want a late 1870s/early 1880s dress...not that I didn't already, but it always comes up again when I read Wharton, or look at paintings like these. It was also a great chance to get up close to details like embroidery and beading which aren't usually highlighted in impressionist work.

There were also a couple of dresses worn by the same model in multiple paintings by different artists, and noting the changes they made (turning sheer sleeves solid, for example) was really interesting. 

more comparisons in the "black dresses" gallery the jet beading on some of these was just painfully gorgeous.

Of course, my favorite part of the exhibit was the gallery called "En Plein Air" which is essentially French for "outside." Painting a subject (whether it be picnickers or water lillies) in nature was a large part of the impressionist movement, leading to an array of inspiring images of picnics, boating, and croquet games that make me long for white ensembles and parasols.

It just so happens the picnic season is starting, and I am so excited.

While I loved almost all the paintings in this gallery, there was one in particular I was excited to see--or rather, part of it.

the En Plein Air gallery, with the image sections in question at center back

Monet's Luncheon on the Grass was a life-sized capturing of what it means to spend a lazy, sunny, summer afternoon with friends. It was painted between 1865-1866, when Monet was forced to abandon the project due to lack of funds. According to his recollections from 1920 (you can read more at the Musee d'Orsay website), the giant canvas (it measured about 13 x 20 feet) was given by Monet to his landlord when he couldn't pay rent. The landlord rolled it up and out it in the basement, where the canvas experienced severe damage and molding.
In 1884 Monet was able to buy the painting back (or maybe just pay his back rent?), but it was too late. After removing the damaged areas, only three fragments of the original remained. Since then, the third has disappeared, leaving only the two sections I was able to see at the Met.

the remaining sections of Luncheon on the Grass, Monet, 1865-1866

The work shows a variety of women's day ensembles from the period: some are colored, some white, some sheer. There are fashionable hats and a woman without a hat (sitting on the blanket) which is much less common and therefore interesting. I also really like that the two women in the left panel are wearing skirts that have been gathered up for outdoor activities. This is a practice I've seen before, but I really like the coordinated underskirt on the gray dress. So pretty!

We followed up with a picnic of our own in Central Park (the first picnic of the season!), and I look forward to the picnics to come this summer. I need to make an 1860s day dress, and Monet's picnic images provide just the inspiration I was looking for.

Women in the Garden, Monet, 1866

If you're in the NYC area, Impressionism, Fashion, and Modernity is closing this weekend, so hurry in! If you won't be able to see it, I highly recommend the book, both for its high quality images and analysis.

(all images in this post from the Met website. Thank you!)

Staying Warm

If you haven't caught the news recently, New England has been hit with a classic Nor'Easter, and the Regency ball this evening has been rescheduled. Instead of furiously finishing my new ballgown and zipping off for adventures, I'll be adventuring in the kitchen with a new cupcake recipe.

The Museum of Fine Arts in Boston has started a Pinterest page of snow-related art in the collection, and I was feeling particularly inspired by a couple of their posts.

Park Street, Boston, about 1908. Arthur Clifton Goodwin

Snow Scene, about 1889. Theodore M. Wendel

Aren't those fabulous?

The MFA's new American Wing has a room devoted to Boston impressionists, and there's a snow scene from that collection that is one of my favorite paintings on display. It's a beautiful image, it's Boston, and look at all the fabulous winter clothes!

Boston Common at Twilight, 1885-6. Childe Hassam

 While I won't be wearing anything this fantastic today, here are some fabulous winter pieces for the next storm.

Ermine accessories, 1890s (MET)

silk velvet and ermine embroidered ladies' shoes, 1840s (MFA)

fur-trimmed jacket by Pingat, 1885 (V&A)

Overboots, 1870s (MET)

fur and silk bonnet, 1870 (MET)

Striped Spencer, 1805

Evening coat by Worth, 1894 (MET)

Evening coat by Worth, 1912 (Charleston Museum)

Winter boots belonging to Empress Eugenie, 1862 (Bowes Museum)

Skating vest, 1870s (Manchester Gallery)--see Antonia's post on swan's down for more

red silk quilted skating ensemble, 1860s

Off to play in the snow!

Vogue does An Overlap of High Fashion and My Fashion

The September issue of Vogue has a spread dedicated to Edith Wharton shot by photographer Annie Leibovitz on location at The Mount (Wharton's home in Lenox, MA).  As I am still dying to go tour the estate (but not until I finish the yachting costume I had to sideline for all of the August insanity) and am waaay behind on my Newport posts, I thought I would quickly share some pictures.

via Vogue.com

Those are some fabulous stairs.  The Mount was built by Edith at Teddy in 1902 and designed by Ogden Codman, jr., based on 17th century English estates.  Codman spent much of his youth in France before attending the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) in 1884.  He opened his first office in Boston before moving his base of operations to New York in 1893, which makes sense for someone in a business primarily funded by the wealthy elite.  Codman also opened an office in Newport, which is where he met Edith Wharton.  She hired him to redesign the interior of Land's End, her Newport home.

the sun room in Land's End, Newport

Wharton and Codman shared similar ideas of architecture and design, which lead Wharton to introduce Codman to Cornelius Vanderbilt, who commissioned the design of the second and third floors of The Breakers, his new Newport "cottage."  Wharton and Codman also co-authored a book on interior design called The Decoration of Houses in 1897. It was Wharton's first published book, although her stories and poems had been appearing in journals for years.

Safran Foer as Codman, far right (standing)

Ogden Codman, Jr. circa 1890

Although she left The Mount in 1911, Wharton retained a strong emotional attachment to the estate.  It was where she published her most famous (or infamous, I supposed, depending on your social position) novel, House of Mirth, and where she entertained many friends.  These guests included many artistic giants of the time, including artist Daniel Chester French and author Henry James.

artist Nate Lowman as French

  French, a sculptor, moved with his family to Concord, MA in 1867.  Daniel had been "whittling and carving things from wood and gypsum, and even from turnips, as many boys do" (May Alcott, a Memoir introduction by French).  His creations--such as bullfrogs out of turnips--lead to Daniel French's father to mention him to the community's artist, May Alcott.  (May, who deserves a post of her own someday, was the youngest sister of Louisa May Alcott, and the inspiration for the character of Amy in Louisa's novel Little Women.)  May gave French his first art lessons and encouraged him to pursue what he loved.

Daniel Chester French circa 1902

The larger-than-life statue of Lincoln in the Lincoln Memorial. Did you know it was done by French?

 

His studio and summer home, Chesterwood, is located in the Berkshires near The Mount.  While I don't know much about his relationship with Wharton, their shared love of horticulture is mentioned in French's wife's memoirs.  Given that they were neighbors and Mrs. French knew Edith, I think they probably at least knew each other.

Jeffrey Eugenides as Henry James, left

Henry James was born into the wealthy James family in New York and spent much of his early life alternating between Europe and America.  Perhaps I love him so dearly because is later works have been compared to impressionist paintings, which I also love, but really I think it is how well he captures the personality of a group of people as a unit.  My favorite of his novels, The Bostonians, does just that.  It's harsh, but I love it and I think much of his descriptions could still apply today.

James and Wharton met in the 1880s, but it wasn't until the early 20th century that they actually became friends.  While at first intimidated by the literary giant, James eventually became a literary adviser and close friend to Wharton.

Wharton and James on a motor tour in 1904 (in the back seat)

I might have to actually buy the September Vogue, just for this spread.  There are several more pictures, and a great Behind the Scenes piece, on the Vogue website.  I encourage you to check it out!  I think Wharton would have rather been portrayed by an author, but that's truly my only complaint.

One last thing: Leibovitz shot at The Mount previously as part of her photographic-journey-turned-coffee-table-book Pilgrimage, which I also recommend.  You can see the photographs on tour at the Concord Museum.

400 Portraits

More Newport things! Specifically, portraits.  One of the marks of high society during the Gilded Age was a portrait by one of the celebrated artists of the set.  Actually one of my favorite artists ever, John Singer Sargent, was one of the most popular of these, but there were also Auguste Carolus-Duran and Giovanni Boldini.

Here are some of my favorites!

Ada Rehan, Sargent 1894-5

Consuelo Vanderbilt and son, 1906 Carolus-Duran 

Isabella Stewart Gardner (check out her museum here!), 1888 Sargent 

Winifred, Duchess of Portland 1902 Sargent

Josephina Alvear de Erraruiz, Boldini

Mademoiselle X (Marquise Anforti), Carolus-Duran 

Mrs. Henry Galbraith Ward, 1891-4 Sargent

Emily Warren Roebling, Carolus-Duran

Mr. and Mrs. I.N. Phelps Stokes, 1897 Sargent