Wednesday I broke from a booked work schedule and ran to Trocadero with Bimbo and Panchita to an already heated entranceway to Dries Van Noten’s spring summer 2012 defilé where we were exposed to a photographic onslaught and an over zealous French woman (presumably some aspca secret agent) who felt it necessary to express how detestable it is to expose the canines to such a potentially dangerous level of audible damage.
Upon further insistence, it was, in fact, security that determined the dogs would be left behind if I were to find myself seated amongst Catherine Baba and Anna Wintour.
The dogs waited at the door as a lesson in exposure unfolded from Dries to a soothing ambient remix of the KLF’s justified and ancient. Dries’s latent fascination with colonialist truths is, no doubt, a powerful motivation which is frequently and sublimely delivered with a technique that comfortably figures into his entire picture as a romanticized subscript. This time around, he not only found a way of seamlessly folding in his recent symbolism, such as military detailing combined with soft full forms reminiscent of African dress, he also mirrored his clear and circular creative clarity with a barely propelled telling of day to night. Safe to say, on this day, Dries was bi coastin’.
The runway, this time, was cleared and barren and taken down to a simplistic black and white providing a spare backdrop for a pictorial telling dwelling literally in the photographic realm and subliminally in the topographical. The images collaged onto the collection recalled rain forests and contractual/constitutional script which slipped into mid afternoon refractions of green ocean tops. The message was exacted as smoothly as an exhale around the cocktail hour when the dresses, remaining in shape, similar to the day looks, assumed new purpose in black. This propulsion was exacted with images of lit bridges. This message came very personal for me, someone who frequently journeys across the bridge from Brooklyn to Manhattan for darker pursuits. Finally, the function of the photo montage flipped the collection, as if thru a filter, upon passage into a hilarious whisper on a dress which depicted “Circus Circus”. Furthermore, the evening wear finale was punctuated with rainbow crystal embellishment. It all passed masterfully without once freezing a frame. This is the magic that makes the name Dries Van Noten still, with all its infamy, tragically under rated still. Yet, it is no wonder that such refrain and irony shall remain its most valid just barely within reach of the radar.
Whether teasing the throngs on the wrongs of world history using beautiful imaginings of what the Banana Republic aesthetic gone by could have been, as a distant star in the night, or in between as an infra red visions of the evening horizon line at sea it is clear to see the strength of Dries that travels, without pause, in the sublime.
Backstage photos: Schohaja Staffler
Street photo: Zana Bayne
