Page 1

RANDOM August 2013

Art & Design in an Evolving World

Living Fashion Katrin Thomas

Danseur Étoile The Opera Ballet of Paris

Philippe Starck: Design Phenom


RANDO 4 Danseur Etoile The Opera Ballet of Paris

16 Living Fashion The Photography of Katrin Thomas

26 Philippe Starck Design Phenom

53 New Artists Rashid Johnson, Haeri Yoo, Stefan Sehler

72 Sharing is Caring Miami’s Ella Fontanals-Cisneros Shares Her Collectionand the

98 Artist Diaries Tom Sachs and Valeska Soares


August 2013

a D The


anseur toile E Opera Ballet of Paris

by Clive Barnes Photographs by GĂŠrard Uferas



hen nearly forty years ago I switched (overnight and a subsequent lifetime) from being a native Londoner to become an immigrant New Yorker, I knew that one of the things I would miss most about London would be Paris, and what is nowadays their tunnel-blessed proximity. When nearly forty years ago I switched (overnight and a subsequent lifetime) from being a native Londoner to become an immigrant New Yorker, I knew that one of the things I would miss most about London would be Paris, and what is nowadays their tunnel-blessed proximity. What I didn’t know was that one of the things I would miss most about Paris was the Paris Opera Ballet. And this is not simply because I am a Francophile, although I am; it’s more Opera Ballet occupies in world classic dance. No, the repertoire is not as fascinating as New York City Ballet’s, or even as individual as The Royal Ballet’s–for one thing, the Paris Opera Ballet has for centuries not had a major choreographer to call its own. Its traditions are not as securely preserved as the Royal Danes’, nor are its male dancers as strong as those of American Ballet Theatre or its women as strong as the Kirov’s. But the Paris Opera Ballet is a fantastic company. It was not always so.

young–well, not that young. And I was altually, over-sophisticated) and emerging dance critic (although, armed with industrial-strength binoculars, I was still paying for my own tickets in the farthest, cheapest reaches of theaters). The company did not less interesting than the various independent troupes of Roland Petit and Boris Kochno. ny in C (with the original Paris east minus Tamara Toumanova) under its French nom de guerre of Le Palais de cristal, and with those fancy Leonor Fini designs, I was totally underwhelmed. I stubbornly remained so on many later occasions. Even a twoweek immersion season by the company

A ballet dancer practices before a show

Lifar, spread over fourteen performances) did nothing to make me a fan, despite the presence of both the wondrous Yvette Chauvire and the lustrous Nina Vyroubova, two of my most beloved ballerinas of the twenwould go to the company as a mild evening relaxation. Journalistically I at least made Helene (underrated, by the way) or Gene (Claude Bessy was divine, but Jerry Lewis

“In Sylvia, Eleonora Abbagnato, Delphine Moussin, Nicolas Le Riche, and Manuel Legris showed just that style, spirit, and sheer technique that has made today’s Paris Opera Ballet one of the wonders of the dance world.” Pair of pointe shoes left behind by a Paris Opera Ballet dancer


A group of ballet dancers dance onto the renowned paris opera ballet stage

could have done better choreography) or istration, a delegation of dancers, and a few Kenneth MacMillan, Asaf Messerer, and as Victor Gsovsky’s earlier attempt for Petit), myself. I realized that since Bessy had taken but my rating of the company among the majors was pretty much the lowest of the low. earlier, the standard of the younger dancers By now the troupe was involved in a had risen. But seeing them en masse was succession of directors. There were fine an extraordinary experience. Bessy and dancers, but no company. I caught the oc- her teachers had formed a troupe to reckon casional “event”—Helgi Tomasson’s guest with--an instrument for dance. It is Rudolf debut as Albrecht in Giselle, for example, or Nureyev who, rightly so, is given the credthe revival of Yuri Grigorovich’s Ivan the Terrible, with the marvelous Jean Guizerix His inspiration, with his prescient promo(a great Robbins interpreter, by the way), tions and his inculcation ora sense of style Dominique Khalfouni and, also a favorite at but even more aspiration, was vital. But the ABT, Michael Denard. Yet I still didn’t take dancers were there before Nureyev took Paris’s dancers as seriously as its cooking Every year the Paris Opera holds promotion examinations for its dancers--apart rom the etoiles and the senior soloists--with a jury consisting of the Paris Opera admin-

they are there today, even though the school, to judge from its appearance in New York last year, is not currently producing dancers of the quality of Bessy’s earlier years.


A dancer sits onstage before the show onstage be


Paris Opera Ballet dancers from above as they perform



dancers chat during a break from rehersals RIGHT: Dancers watch the show from sidestage



A Paris Opera Ballet Dancer onstage

A dancer sits onstage to rest and watch other dancers


No real matter–the students will improve again. And the company, as I saw in Paris at the beginning of the year, catching two performances of Lacotte’s pallid restaging of Paquita at the Palais Gamier, and at the Opera Bastille a strike-struck, virtually scenery-less, revival of John Neumeier’s ton and give it to the French!), is still that same marvelous instrument. I’ve never been much enamored of Agnes Letestu and Jose Martinez, but their alternates in the leading roles in Paquita, the glistening Clairemarie

Osta and the elegant Jean-Guillaume Bart, to, Delphine Moussin, Nicolas Le Riche, and Manuel Legris showed just that style, spirit, and sheer technique that has made today’s Paris Opera Ballet one of the wonders of the dance world. I miss Paris--and nowadays the dancers as much as the city.

Senior Consulting Editor Clive Barnes, who covers dance and theater for the New York Post, has contributed to Dance Magazine since 1956.

A dancer practices on the bar before a show


“But the Paris Opera Ballet is a fantastic company. It was not always so.�


LEFT: A dancer in costume chats with a friend after the show

A dancer as she unties her pointe shoes


A dancer takes a momentary pause offstage



Living Fash


The Photography of

Katrin Thomas

By Evan Walker 17



etting Katrin Thomas to explain her own photographs is a daunting task, nonetheless, everything that she needs to say about her work is deftly woven and crisply realized. Asked how she would describe her photography to the average person, she answers, “I would have to say that it is related to movies I’m creating at that particular moment. I’ve always been inspired by the They are very real, yet they are not. Like the way all these directors use simple but profound language in an abstract, humorous, romantic way. In my photography, I try to explore in a similar way.” Thomas’ photography re-enacts slices of everyday life and trends, to create a poetics of glamour, misery, ambivalence, attitude, ennui, etc. Angeles shows two young girls¬–each barely twenty years old–exquisitely decked out in fetching single-breasted, Chanel-insipred plaid suits. Their bodies are criss-crossed with lemon-yellow and ochre chalk-bands beside a gleaming blue swimming pool, accentuated by the girls’ pale nude legs partially immersed in the pool. The alluring saturation characteristic of the California sun is evident, with its attendant aura of leisure, but the ironic subtext of chic boredom underscored in this picture, and not least punctuated by one of the girls’ yawning, exempli-


girls go shoe shopping

and, in effect, demystifying the everyday life of privileged Beverly Hills girls. Fantasy and desire have a clear purpose in fashion: people want to look through and not at, fashion photographs. They want to be entertained, amused, comforted and, hopefully, live vicariously through glossy photographs of beautifully posed, manicured models. But in

celebrating these iconic, spoiled girls, Thomas also betrays the limitations of luxury that under-privileged girls– unaware– long for. The edginess of Thomas’s photography is derived not from its casualness, but from its cinematic urgency, which stirs the viewer while retaining a photographic stillness that invites contemplation. The urgency of ments. Looking at (not through) Thomas’ sepia-toned portraits of impressionable young touch cruel, she catalogues all the pretenses grimace, homeboy-wannabe, Rastafarian scene. Gone are the days when bohemia, underground, cutting-edge or rudeboys meant something. Nowadays faking it succeeds more than being it. A pose, a look, an attitude or a style can be bought or sold in urbanite can be transformed from a pale young thing into the rr girl of the moment. “Escape from reality” is no longer necessary; reality has become an escape, and perception the only reality. Our life has become as real as cloning, test-tube babies, breast implants, nose jobs, face-lifts, sex-changes, race-changes, spin doctors, clever lawyers or sexgate. What are we left with but our true picture, a silhouette whose true color is greenback? Hardcore capitalism commodidy’s words, “It’s all about the Benjamins”. As the popularity of fashion as a worthy cultural phenomenon grows in learned circles, so the role of fashion photography will progress from a mere decorative medium to a demanding one with critical framework that can enable us to see beyond our glamorized decorum. Fashion is not only contagious, it


is also worth catching, regardless of cultural, religious or gender homogeneity. Perhaps playing, for instance, with the homogeneous trope and stereotype of what it means to be Asian, female, and probably Buddhist, Thomas photographed a young Asian girl in two frames. In one frame, dressed in a Maoesque revolutionary white suit against a background horizontally banded in green, white and black, this young girl sits leaning on a white table, her back slightly bent with anxiety, peering in enigmatic contemplation at her white plate of food. Clearly Kate Moss, not the Buddha, is the icon of faith and salvation in the picture: faith and self-starvation, salvation in thinness. The charged symbolic analogies of sanitation and purity, anorexia and thinness, bulimia and ambivalence, fashion and body, culture and nature bear witness to the collective psychological damage we are suffering from. As if to drive her point home, Thomas’ second frame freezes her subject’s evident expression of mea culpa. Those who glibly dismiss fashion as harmless and irrelevant should think again. The pervasive tyranny imposed by waif-chic, epitomized by Kate Moss’ well-orchestrated fashion campaigns, is omni-present, day and night, throughout the world; whether Buddhist, Christian or Mohammedan, none can escape the contagion of fashion. The dilemma between feeding one’s self and possibly getting fat on the one hand, or starving herself to desirable thinness on the other. This tragic depiction of the ambivalence of fashion and beauty is one you will not see soon in Vogue or Harper’s Bazaar: it is too real. At times, the acute transparency encountered in Thomas’ work is every bit as damning as it is intense. In a “bathroom” the photographer depicts an uninvolved blonde wearing tights, her left hand partially clasped over her mouth and nose, her right forearm resting on a glass shelf for support and balance. A second girl, a brunette, is standing in the middle facing away from the viewer, her left arm bent at the elbow with the palm of her hand cupped, and her head bowed. Her unseen right hand could be touching the middle of her face. Half-emerging


from the toilet and half standing, the third, also a brunette, is leaning against the door with both arms raised, her left hand at an angle, that once again, covers her mouth, her nose, and an eye. All three girls are, to a greater of lesser degree, preoccupied with their noses. This picture entertains multiple readings, including the recreational use of cocaine by these three girls, who look as if they may be dancers or something similar. It should be borne in the mind that cocaine is reputed to undermine the appetite for food– a necessary evil for dancers. By realizing this “bathroom” picture without any suggestion that her subjects are posing, Thomas succeeds in capturing an emblematic moment of decadence, guilt, shame, and the all-too-familiar insatiable consumption that characterizes the socalled Generation X. This is not a rehashed, trendy photograph of, say, heroin-chic, designed to affect a cutting-edge gesture in order to shock the bourgeoisie. Like Edouard Manet, who insisted that “We must accept our own times and paint what we see,” Thomas fully embraces her own time and photographs what she sees. The eldest of three children, Katrin Thomas was born in Bonn, Germany on was marked by anti-bourgeois values, sexual promiscuity, “free love” and unashamed drug-abuse; hence, in many ways, it created a template for the continuing moral decay of today’s Generation X. At the age of seven, she left Bonn for Frankenthal, where she spent the rest of her childhood. Later she studied Visual Communications and

At times, the acute


encountered in Thomas’ work

of Design in Pasadena California, on a Fulbright-scholarship. For as long as she can remember, she has been a child of the arts: she was an actress for a while, and from the studied opera. Throughout these formative years, she also studied modern dance, which explains her evident agility. Faced with her competing talents, she increasingly turned to still and motion pictures.


every bit as damning as it is


The girls try on dresses at a department store


The two girls; ready to eat dinner wearing their new dresses

Occasionally, fate or providence dictates that an impresario will discover a great and lasting talent. Carmen dell’ Orstill working as a fashion model at the age of sixty-seven, was discovered one day in a Manhattan cross-town bus. Iman, the ena fashion model while attending college in as was “discovered”– a thorny term– as a in Photo News, a German photography


magazine, when one of her photographs adorned the cover. His curiosity aroused, see more of her work; impressed by what she showed him, he offered to publish her photographs– a decision based on the strength of her work rather than on her apparent lack of celebrity. But of course, Thomas had been working for at least the past ten years; and like all “discovered” heroines and heroes, her discovery owed as much to the eye of the discoverer as to her untapped talent. Where Thomas delves squarely into fashion photography, the obviousness with

which she does so suggest deliberate parody. to back against a burgundy wall; they are separated by two shoulder-high couch backs, with fake-looking bouquet– a tawdry atly into the center, where the curved arms of glance, the atmosphere of this lounge suggest sheer abandonment and luxury, but the underlying hypocrisy of glamour that Thomas captures in this photography betrays the “escape from reality” epitomized in the cult of supermodels and their wannabes. Trapped in contradictions, these girls also mirror the malaise of fashion-victimhood, suffered by millions of girls the worlds over. “I do not rely on or need beautiful models, or a photo studio, in order to create a strong picture. In fact, although I’m not against the use of interested in taking an interesting picture from a seemingly uninteresting situation. It’s

always important for me to not only realize beauty but also its attendant consequences.” For most leading fashion photographers, Gallagher Paper– a New York City store specializing in second-hand and sought-after out-of-print fashion magazines– has become a sort of Harvard. Boasting an inexhaustible collection of magazines – Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, Vu, Look, and some dating as far “fresh” ideas in as many fashion photographers, who only have to look at and copy the past work of Cecil Beaton, Erwin Blumenfeld and others. Take Cecil Beaton and Horst, for instance: there can be no doubt as to their exceptional mastery of lighting effects, costumes, props, and celebrity subjects, a synergy that yielded superbly lasting photographs. But there is an undeniable coldness in their work. Edge and surprise in photography today can only be realized with a certain spontaneity, or at least a smartly wrought casualness. The cold, august aura of erstwhile masters like Beaton or Horst

is– today, when “anything goes” –generally irrelevant and too quaint. Yet, ironically there is a great insight embodied in the ancient Chinese belief that the amateur is the true artist; un burdened by the weight of reputation, he is open to chance, willing to take risks with nothing to lose, and hence free to constantly explore and chart new territory. True to post-modernism, with its guity, open-ended or not-yet future, Thomgraphs with an ineffable freshness that is immediate, and deceptively unrehearsed. Katrin Thomas’ debt to motion pictures is manifest in a picture of six young women, scantily-clad in swimsuits with their backs to the camera, walking away from the viewa freight elevator or loading dock. The girl in the foreground has her arms wrapped around her in an apparent attempt to ward off an uncomfortable draft; the second girl, a considerable distance behind, is walk-

Using the fleeting

nature of fashion as a

The girls are tired and ready to leave

trope, Katrin Thomas has summarily articulated the vernacular and pernicious ideals of beauty

of today’s young girl.


ing four girls seem to be in varying stages of psychological preparation for their exit. Poll after poll has shown that the average young woman’s dream job is to be a fashion model. With religion in rapid decline, faith lost with one hand is regained by the other. Today, the fashion magazine is the young woman’s bible, the fashion designer, her god, and the fashion model, her supreme ion as a trope, Katrin Thomas has summarily articulated the vernacular and pernicious ideals of beauty of today’s young girl. Throughout Katrin Tomas’ work, there abound the aura and fetching beauty epitomized by the breeziness of Francoise Hardy’s voice, the disarming dissonance of Billy Holiday’s phrasing, the Dionysian wantonness of Prince or Madonna, or the savory melancholy of Tricky, say, infused with the pop irreverence of Bjork. Thomas’ grasp of her photographic composition always manages to delineate the complex and quotidian with such rare musical breadth, such artistic restraint and poetic immediacy that it is able to surprise the jaded retina of even the most hardened cognoscenti. Whilst any is relative, work like Thomas’, which unfailingly engenders a sensation of passion, holds and lovingly stirs Katrin Thomas’ photography will always reward us with its warmth.

The girls rest after a long day of shopping and eating

















neath his father’s drawing boards; hours spent sawing, cutting, gluing, sanding, dismantling bikes, motor cycles and other objects. Endless hours, a whole lifetime spent taking apart and putting back together whatever comes to hand, remaking the world around him. Italians have made him responsible for their furniture, President Mitterand asked him to change life at the Elysées Palace, the Café Costes has become Le Café, he has turned the Royalton and Paramount in New York into the new classics of the hotel world and scattered Japan with archi-

tectural tours de force that have made him the leading exponent of expressionist architecture. His respect for the environment and for humankind has also been recognized in France, where he was commissioned to design the Ecole Nathe control tower at Bordeaux airport, and a waste recycling plant in Paris metropolitan area. Abroad, he continues to shake up both the traditions and cultures of the major cities around the world, with the decoration of the Peninsula Hotel restaurant in Hong Kong, the Teatron in Mexico, the Hotel Delano in Miami, the Mondrian in Los Angeles, the Asia de


Cuba restaurant in New York, and a whole clutch of projects under way in London and elsewhere. His gift is to turn the object of his commission instantly into a place of charm, pleasure and encounters. An honest and enthusiastic citizen of today’s world, he considers it his duty to share with us his subversive vision of a better world which a glove. He is tireless in changing the realities of our daily life, sublimating our roots and the deepest wellsprings of our being into his changes. He captures the essential spirit of the sea for Béneteau, turns the toothbrush into a noble object, squeezes lemons but the “ wrong “ way, and even makes our TV sets more fun to be with when he brings his “ emotional style “ into Thomson’s electronic world. He also takes time out to change our pasta, our ash-trays, lamps, toothbrushes, door handles, cutlery, candlesticks, kettles, knives, vases, clocks, scooters, motorcycles, desks, beds, taps, baths, toilets… in short, our whole life. A life that he finds increasingly fascinating, which has brought him now clos-

Chamomilla Chandelier by Philippe Starck and Lasvit

Palindrome watch by Starck for Fossil


Starck riding Pibal , a bicycle-scooter hybrid created by the designer and car company Peugeot

er to the human body with clothes, underwear, shoes, glasses, watches, food, toiletries et al., still determined that his de designs shall, as ever, respect the nature and the future of mankind. The world’s museums are unerring. Paris, New York, Munich, London, Chicago, Kyoto, Barcelona - all exhibit his work as that of a master. Prizes and awards are showered on him: designer of the year, Grand Prix for Industrial Design, Arts et des Lettres, and many more. Always and everywhere, he seems to understand better than any other our dreams, our desires, our needs, and our responsibility to the future, as well the overriding need to respect his fellow citizens by making his work a political and a civic act. Crazy, warm yet terribly lucid, he draws without respite, out of necessity, driven by a sense of urgency, for himself and for others. He touches us through his

Starck’s Dr. Kiss Toothbrush designed for Fluocaril

Philippe Starck’s Ploof Sofa in red

indeed, but most of all touches us because he puts his heart into that work, creating objects that are good even before they are beautiful.



n honest and enthusiastic citizen of today’s world, he considers it his duty to share with us his subversive vision of a better world which is his alone and yet which

Driade Moor(e) White Leather Chair by Philippe Starck


Q&A SO: what is the best moment of the day? PS: when you make love to the person that you love.

He is tireless in changing the realities of our daily life, sublimating our roots and the deepest wellsprings of our being into his changes.


what kind of music do you listen to at the moment? everything is good. do you listen to the radio? bollywood radio. what books do you have on your bedside table? so many... I read 12 books at a time... ‘europeana’ by patrik ourednik (a brief history of the twentieth century) it is very important to read. where do you get news from? I live like a monk, so there is no news.


LEFT: Starck’s Alice in Wonderland inspired room at the Faena Hotel & Universe, Buenos Aires

BELOW: Starck’s


Classic Oversized Mirror

can you describe an evolution in your work from more honest. do you design for the masses? I have been trying for 20 years now. how I make life better for my tribe. you once said that it is your dream to make the world no, not for beauty. we have to replace beauty, which is a cultural concept, with goodness, which is a humanist concept. the beauty of intelligence? yes. of intelligence. the elegance of intelligence and the beauty of happiness.

fashion design different to that of industrial design? I have no reason with fashion but am interested to make clothes for my friends.

Kartell Eros Swivel Chair by Philippe Starck


Phillippe Starck’s Ghost Chair


dress? ehh... yes. I like the dress that is like a double skin. what kind of clothes do you avoid wearing? cannot say.

no. when you were a child, what did you want to be? nothing.

anywhere in front of the sea. who would you like to design something for? nobody. there are already thousands of really, really good chairs. there are thousands of good lamps. there are thousands of everything. do you discuss your work with other designers? never. I am not interested in designers. describe your ‘style’, like a good friend of yours freedom. which of your works has given you the most satisfaction? the next. among the most recent work is ‘collection guns’ Alessi Lemon Squeezer by Philippe Starck

the guns collection is nothing but a sign of the times. we get the symbols we deserve.


Starck’s interior design at the MAMA shelter hotel in Marseille, Paris


and you have designed hotels, clubs and it is the same thing. just the scale is different.

lot? I am not interested in architects or designers. I no longer wish to talk about design. any advice for the young? advice? make a job useful. what are you afraid of regarding the future? the loss of civilisation.

Philippe Starck Palindrome Watch



Rachel Final Project  
Rachel Final Project  

Final Project for Rhode Island School of Design Summer Institute for Graphic Design Studies, Magazine Design course. This is a school projec...