IM: A Memoir (3*)

 

Fashion generally only interests me by the time it gets to a museum, as was the case with 90s It Boy Isaac Mizrahi.  Somehow, I missed Unzipped even though the documentary was directed by Mizrahi's first serious boyfriend, the man behind the incomparable Madonna: Truth or Dare.  But when I finally encountered the designer's retrospective at the Jewish Museum in 2016, I thrilled to his idiosyncratic use of color, creativity and costume.

I certainly didn't thrill to IM, his less-than-dishy memoir.  On the one hand, it's an undeniably well-written account of his fascinating career, with early stints at both Perry Ellis and Calvin Klein, and oh-so-discreet descriptions of his interactions with divas, including Liza and Audrey.  On the other, it's also a narcissistic catalog of his neuroses, insecurity and insomnia with too many pages devoted to his childhood and endless attacks on the insular culture that spawned him.  Did Mizrahi ever have any fun?  No wonder Stephen Sondheim "ex-communicated" him.  Get over yourself, honey!

Even more disturbing, his faith in the occult led him to abandon the unique talent so clearly evident at the Jewish Museum for a less than stellar stint in show biz.  The book ends with the fulfillment Mizrahi derives from performing his cabaret show, admittedly a lot less taxing than producing a new clothing line every season.  Instead of the Syrian Jews who clapped for his garage puppet shows and impersonations of Barbra, he now basks in the applause of a sophisticated audience at the Cafe Carlyle.

I guess he just couldn't cut it in the real world.  What a loss.  

Harlem Renaissance, Sleeping Beauties & Sculpted Graffiti

Catching up at the Met is always fun despite the summer crowds.  This Surinamese immigrant, a model and musician who led bands in both Europe and America, couldn't be more dapper.  It's my favorite work from The "Harlem Renaissance and Transatlantic Modernism" which includes a dozen artists unknown to me previously, a refrain that I sing more and more in these posts now that the museum world is finally making up for lost time and exhibiting works by marginalized groups, including women, far more frequently.  

Louis Richard Drenthe/On The Terrace by Nola Hatterman (1930)

Howard University professor Alain Locke preached a simpatico gospel more than a century ago, urging African Americans to look to their own culture and past for edification and artistic inspiration.

Alain Leroy Locke by Winold Reiss (1925)

German-born artist Winold Reiss illustrated Locke's seminal work, The New Negro, and painted other leading lights of Harlem.

Langston Hughes by Winold Reiss (1925)

The exhibit also includes this noble sculpture of Paul Robeson, a Renaissance man if ever there was one.

Paul Robeson by Sir Jacob Epstein (1928)

The Harlem Renaissance produced Josephine Baker, too.  She recently became the first Black woman to be inducted into the French Panthéon.

The jazzy compositions of Jacob Lawrence never fail to impress.  Wisps of cigarette smoke rise off the canvas like riffs.

"Pool Parlor" (1942)

The striking work by William H. Johnson deserves to be the colorful show's signature image.

"Woman In Blue" (ca 1943)

Here's the artist in triplicate.

Triple Self-Portrait by William H. Johnson (1944)

More than one stunning portrait of a woman graces the exhibit.

"Girl in a Red Dress" by Charles Henry Alston (1934)

"Black Woman Wearing a Blue Hat & Dress"
by Miguel Covarrubias (1927)

It's not often that museums provide a glimpse of Black middle class life.

"Mr. & Mrs. Barton" by John N. Robinson (1942)

Romare Bearden depicted an entire Harlem block in this remarkable painted collage.

"The Block" (detail, 1971)

The Costume Institute knows how to pack 'em in, that's for sure.  Winding through a narrow white labyrinth, visitors to Sleeping Beauties: Reawakening Fashion sniff their way (yes, you read that right) through themed displays like this one for roses.  Isaac Mizrahi is a more interesting dressmaker than memoirist, that's for sure.

Hat by John Galliano (detail, 2007)

Hat by Jasper Conran & Philip Treacy (1992)

Rose Dress by Dolce & Gabbana (2024)

Other flowers get their due, too.  The older I get the more I realize there was nothing quite like the simple femininity of Mr. Dior's dresses.

"Vilmorin" Ensemble by Christian Dior (1952)

Women's fashion once posed almost as big a threat to birds as skyscrapers now do.  But domestic cats are an even bigger menace, killing more than a billion each year.

"The Nightingale & the Rose" Necklace by Simon Costin (partial, 1989)

No swallows had to die to make this Alexander McQueen jacket and the Met's "Savage Beauty" exhibit didn't have to rely on olfactory tubes to draw enormous crowds.

This "Nautiloid" dress by Iris von Herpen from 2020 looked like no other.

Graffiti crudely scrawled by children on desks in the former Yugoslavia inspired "Abetare," the Met's Roof Garden Commission.  Kosovar artist Petrit Halilaj lost not one but two homes in the regional war during the late 90s.  The New Museum also has exhibited his work.

Petrit, who is gay, likened his childhood displacement to the feeling brought by the awakening of his sexual orientation.  

The repetitive images he found in the graffiti--both artistic and expressive of pop culture (find Messi below)--brought him a sense of connection which he deftly conveys through his unusual and moving work, once you know his backstory.

But like all remarkable art, it can be appreciated simply for the joy it brings.  I'm just surprised there aren't any penises!

Free Saturdays @ The Jewish Museum

So what if the gift shop isn't open because of Shabbos?  Crowds are light in summer for New York's less popular museums.

Isaac Mizrahi:  An Unruly History

My mother would have accused Mr. Mizrahi of having a lot of "personality," more evident in the frenetic triptych video presentation (don't miss it) that closes the exhibit than the samples of his colorful work on display.

Design #33--that one would be for Linda Evangelista who once so famously said that she didn't get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day.  How reasonable that seems today in Manhattan!

That's right, the dress is made of Coke cans.  It's the "Real Thing."

Mizrahi called this dress "Totem Pole" in less politically correct times.  He took his inspiration from roadside trinkets, not authentic Native American culture.

He certainly had a sense of humor about his fabrics.  Here's a perfect "moving gown"--it's made of elevator pads!

His costume work delights.

And you thought Bjork looked fucked up at the Oscars!

Roberto Burle Marx, Brazilian Modernist

Most of the gardens Marx landscaped never made it from paper to earth.  A shame, although he left behind lots of interesting concepts realized in different media, including tapestry and tile.

 

Using Walls, Floors, and Ceilings: Beatriz Milhazes

Milhazes must have played a lot of "Candyland" as a kid!