Modes en Miroir: la France et la Hollande au temps des Lumieres		
Modes en Miroir: la France et la Hollande 
              au temps des Lumières
             
              Musée Galliera, Paris
                28 April - 21 August 2005
              
After the recent decision of the Musée 
                Galliera to collaborate with other European museums and collectors, 
                'Modes en Miroir' continues the theme of contemporary Europe sharing 
                stories of a mutual past: free trade has gone cultural. The latest 
                in a line of exhibitions, such as 'Modes Russes' (Russian couture) 
                in 1999 and 'Marlene Dietrich: Creation of a Myth' in 2003, the 
                current exhibition is the debutante celebration of royal court 
                couture in the 18th century. 
            
 
             
            In each room (dimly lit so that the lavish silks 
              and lace may be protected from the scorching rays of modern days), 
              mannequins display the elaborate and magnificent creations that 
              have been exceptionally well conserved in museums in the Netherlands 
              during the past couple of centuries. With a careful eye - for much 
              of the beauty of the textiles is in the finer details - it is clear 
              to see the diversity of riches that were found in the royal court. 
              Men's robes are embroidered with flamboyant flowers and tiny red 
              roses, stitched in rows of 40 or more, framed by lines of peach 
              and fine emerald green. Even in the dusk-like ambience, carefully 
              placed spotlights illuminate the ethereal shades of pink, yellow, 
              blue and gold that are the soft canvases for applied patterns and 
              appliqué - tones that radiate a luxury not to be found today, 
              even in the most elaborate fashion houses. 
              
              As a whole, the collection presents fashion's antiquity in a balanced 
              and graceful manner, juxtaposing complicated textile patterns with 
              minimally patterned, but elaborately structured, dresses. Bustles 
              and corsets are draped with expertly gathered fabrics and men's 
              clothes are given a structure that is masculine enough to justify 
              the lavish flowers and plants sewn over seams and pockets. 
              
              The ladies' couture, however beautiful, is no surprise; corsets 
              are familiar enough and princesses even more so. In terms of drawing 
              interest, it is the men's couture that is so exotic and detached 
              from today's lame trends. In the final room, a man's corset stands 
              out: its display happens to coincide neatly with the Gay Pride parade 
              taking place out in the Parisian daylight, away from the soft dusk 
              of the museum. The man's corset looks rather sultry under the low 
              lighting, a welcome contrast from the brash exhibitionism outside. 
              The real queens are all here in the Musée Galliera, pondering 
              the corsets of antiquity, and doubtless the casanovas who once wore 
              them, for their own coming out into society. 
              
              One of the joys of the fashion collection lies in the technical 
              magnificence of the couture - the vast palette of colours and sumptuous 
              silks, the gardens stitched in thread. The other source of fascination 
              lies in the implications of the costumes - the lengths to which 
              an imagination may go to sketch out the people who wore the clothes, 
              the balls they attended and the dangerous liaisons in which clothes 
              played supporting roles. These clothes, illuminated carefully in 
              soft light, were the fabric of seduction, the masks of masquerades, 
              the accessories to scandal and the only material insight we now 
              have into a vanity fair past. 
              
              If you have ever dreamt of masquerade balls in Paris and Amsterdam, 
              the Musée Galliera is, quite simply, the fabric of such dreams. 
              It is also an illustration of vain antiquity, an advanced lesson 
              in couture and a sultry retreat from the hot heat of a Parisian 
              summer. 
              
              Christiana SC Spens