A History Of Fashion's Appropriation Of Art [NSFW]
LatestFor Christian Louboutin’s latest lookbook, photographer Peter Lippmann used models to essentially recreate iconic works from art history: Whistler’s Mother, Francisco de Zurbarán’s St. Dorothy, and here, Jean-Marc Nattier’s 1738 Portrait of the Marquise D’Antin. And added, you know, really expensive shoes. It’s an old trick — and an interesting gloss on the just-as-old “is fashion art?” question. (It’s not, and it needn’t have to be in order to be compelling or legitimate. “Art” isn’t “better” than “fashion.”)
Warning: Slideshow images are NSFW, due to artistic boobs and nudes.
But seeing these Louboutin images made me think of fashion’s long history of appropriating images from art. Sometimes the results look beautiful, sometimes they look cheesy, and sometimes fashion actually gives as well as takes.
On the left: an image from the Louboutin campaign. On the right: Marie-Guillemine Benoist, Portrait d’une Négresse (1800).
Left: an image from the Louboutin campaign. Right: Francisco de Zurbarán, St. Dorothy.
Left: an image from the Louboutin campaign. Right: Georges de la Tour, Madeleine à la Vieilleuse (1638-40).
The same de la Tour painting was also inspirational to Yves Saint Laurent. In this spring-summer 1999 ad campaign, shot by Mario Sorrenti, Kate Moss and other models restaged famous works of art. Saint Laurent, with his business and life partner Pierre Bergé, amassed an enormous collection of masterpieces by everyone from Mondrian to Goya. (When Saint Laurent died in 2008, Bergé put everything up for auction. It fetched over $500 million. The most compelling parts of the documentary L’Amour Fou cover the auctioneers’ rapid, white-gloved dispersal of the household and its rather splendid effects; those scenes offer a real-life counterpoint to Olivier Assayas’ film Summer Hours, in which a collection of art and antiques that took one bourgeois French family many generations to amass is, upon grandma’s death, packed up and off to the Musée D’Orsay in just a few days.)
Say what you will, Yves Saint Laurent had taste. His ads are notable for the subtle changes they make to their source material: for example, here Madeleine is facing the viewer, and is herself being watched by a nude man who doesn’t appear in the original painting. In the YSL recreation of Manet’s Le Déjeuner sur L’Herbe, it is Moss who is clothed, and the male model who is naked.
And in the luxury-ad version of Velázquez’s Rokeby Venus — a painting which I have long loathed for its feeble-minded and repulsive sexism, a painting which when I saw it for the first time I totally got why that suffragette took an axe to it — a mirror-gazing man is added to the tableau of idle vanity.