Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes at the National Gallery of Art

The main reason I took a side trip to Washington, DC was to see this exhibition, Diaghilev and the Ballets Russes: When Art Danced with Music.   Ever since I saw some of the costumes at the  Wadsworth Atheneum in Hartford, Connecticut in 2006, I’ve been interested in how the costumes of the Ballets Russes influenced the fashions of the 1910s and 1920s.  So when I heard that this exhibition was to be held at the National Gallery of Art, I was pretty excited.  Originally organized by and shown at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, it was a big hit there in 2010.

I’m not going to beat around the bush.  This is a must-see exhibition if you are interested in the art, music, ballet, and fashion of the 1910s and 1920s.  The story of how Serge Diaghilev assembled the best of the avant-garde to transform ballet is a fascinating one, and the National Gallery tells it in a very engaging manner.  The exhibition is multilayered, with not just the costumes and props that are on exhibit, but using them in combination with the original drawings, artworks that were an influence, historic photographs, and film clips of the actual dances (but not from the original 1909-1929 productions because Diaghilev did not permit filming).

I’m not going to try to tell the entire story of the Ballets Russes, as it would make this post much too long.  For a brief  overview, the V&A site has a nice page that was made for the original exhibition.

Diaghilev and John Brown, New York, 1916. Photograph by Bain News Service. Collection of Ms. Anna and Mr. Leonid Winestein

There is a one hour film that shows continuously that one needs to view before entering the exhibition.  It tells the story of how Serge Diaghilev, who was not a dancer, not a musician, nor an artist, was able to put together his incredible ensemble.  Born into a wealthy Russian family that lost its fortune due to the political upheavals in early 20th century Russia, he left his home in St. Petersburg in 1906, and eventually decided that what Western Europe needed was a good dose of Russian culture.  He was just the man to supply it.

In Russia, Diaghilev had worked as a promoter of the arts, and had even published a magazine, World of Art.  He was friends with many of Russia’s artists composers and performers, so he was in a good position to call upon their talents.  From the beginning of the Ballets Russes in 1909, he had the support of Russians such as artists Léon Bakst and Natalia Goncharova, composers Sergei Prokofiev and  Igor Stravinsky, and dancers Anna Pavlova and Nijinsky.

The Ballets Russes was a tremendous hit, and even during WWI the troupe continued working by touring North and South America.  I find it amusing that the Ballets Russe never performed in Russia, but the people of Knoxville, Tennessee (about 90 miles from my home) were able to attend a performance in their town in 1916.

After the war, Diaghilev was able to bring in more artists to work on sets and costumes, including Picasso, Sonia and Robert Delaunay, and Matisse.  Coco Chanel was also involved,  making the costumes for Le Train bleu which were sporting clothes.

In 1929 Serge Diaghilev died.  He had never accumulated a fortune, as all the money the company made was put into the next production.  It was said that Chanel paid for his funeral and burial.

After the death of Diaghilev, the Ballets Russes disbanded and the dancers went on to be stars in other ballet companies, often using the old Ballets Russes dances and costumes.  A group called the Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo was formed in 1938 by some of the former members.  The influence of the Ballets Russes was far-reaching and many of the writings I’ve read credit Diaghilev with pretty much inventing the modern ballet.

I’m indebted to the press office of the National Gallery of Art for the use of these photos of the exhibits.   Photos were not allowed, but these are much nicer than what I would have been able to take.  Most can be enlarged by clicking.

Please do not  put these photos from my site on Pinterest nor on Tumblr.

Léon Bakst, Costume for the Rose from The Spirit of the Rose, designed in 1911, fabricated 1922
Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford, CT, The J. Herbert Callister Fund, the Florence Paull Berger Fund, the Costume and Textile Purchase Fund, and the Costume and Textile Flood Fund

This costume was originally designed for dancer Vaslav Nijinsky but this version is later, from 1922.  The costumes often had to be replaced due to the hard wear on them.

Auguste Bert, Vaslav Nijinsky in The Spirit of the Rose, 1911
gelatin silver print
V&A, London, Gift of Richard Buckle and Annette Page

This is Nijinsky wearing the costume as it was made for him in 1911.  The petals were applied with him wearing the costume.

Jean Cocteau, Vaslav Nijinsky from The Spirit of the Rose, poster for the opening season of the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées, Paris, 1913
V&A, London, Gift of Mademoiselle Lucienne Astruc and Richard Buckle in memory of the collaboration between Diaghilev and Gabriel Astruc

And here we see the costume as rendered by artist Jean Cocteau in a poster for a performance of The Spirit of the Rose.

Nicholas Roerich, Costume for a Polovtsian Warrior from Prince Igor, c. 1909
silk ground, silk ikat fabric, cotton metal disks, skullcap embroidered in polychrome thread
V&A, London

A lot of thought and care went into all the costumes, not just those of the principal dancers.  The designer, Nicholas Roerich, sourced authentic ikat fabrics for various Polovtsian dancers’ costumes, whose clashing colorful costumes were an important part of the overall spectacle.

Léon Bakst, Costume design for Vaslav Nijinsky as the Faun from The Afternoon of a Faun, 1912
graphite, tempera and gold paint on laid charcoal paper
Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford, CT, The Ella Gallup Sumner and Mary Catlin Sumner Collection Fund

The Afternoon of of a Faun was danced and choreographed by Nijinsky, and was an even bigger venture into the avant-garde.  The costume for the Faun was mainly painted onto tights and body.

Léon Bakst, Costume for a Nymph from The Afternoon of a Faun, c. 1912
silk chiffon, paint, lamé, metallic ribbon, cotton
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

This costume was worn by one of the Nymphs.  The ballet represented characters on a Greek vase brought to life, and the movements were intentionally two-dimensional.  The first audiences to see it were understandably confused.  Along with the costumes and artwork, the National Gallery has little theaters set up throughout so that many of the dances as interpreted by more modern dance companies can be viewed.  The Afternoon of the Faun still looks very modern.

Mikhail Larionov, Costume for the Buffoon’s Wife from The Tale of the Buffoon, 1921
cane-stiffened felt and cotton
V&A, London Photo © Victoria and Albert Museum, London

Léon Bakst, Costume for a Dancing Girl or Odalisque from Scheherazade, c. 1910
rayon, silk, metallic and other paint, metallic and rayon braid, gelatine paillettes, glass beads,metal fasteners, wire
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

It was the ballet, Scheherazade, in 1910 that set off the fad for Orientalism in fashion.  Paul Poiret always claimed that the Ballets Russes had no influence on him whatsoever, but I think he was protesting a little too loudly.

Natalia Goncharova, Costume for a Red Spotted Fish from Sadko, 1916
silk with appliqué, lamé, and paint
Dansmuseet – Museum Rolf de Maré Stockholm
© 2013 Artists Rights Society (ARS) New York/ADAGP, Paris.

Sonia Delaunay, Costume for title role from Cleopatra, 1918
silk, sequins, mirror and beads, wool yarn, metallic thread braid, lamé
Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Costume Council Fund
© Pracusa 2012003 Digital Image © 2013 Museum Associates/LACMA. Licensed by Art Resource, NY

If you are familiar with the work of Sonia Delaunay, then you can see her theories of color at work in this costume.  The exhibition also has the original sketch, which I forgot to request, but you can see it on the Metropolitian website.

Alexandre Benois, Set model for Les Sylphides, 1909
gouache, watercolor, pencil and chalk on card, with bamboo supports
V&A, London

Just so you will know that it was not just costumes, this is a three-dimensional model for the set of Les Sylphides.  Click to see how wonderful it is.

Natalia Goncharova, Back cloth for the final Coronation scene from The Firebird, 1926
painted canvas
V&A, London © 2013 Artists Rights Society (ARS) New York/ADAGP, Paris. Photo © Victoria and Albert Museum, London

My favorite object was not a costume, but was this back cloth from The Firebird.  Even if you have not clicked to enlarge any of the other photos, you must see the larger version.  When I stepped into the room where this cloth was hung, my breath was literally taken away.  It is so large that the museum had to raise the ceiling in the room.  To get a better look at its size, here is a photo with people standing before it.

This is just a very small taste of the exhibition.  I spent hours, absorbed in the world of Diaghilev and his wonderful Ballets Russes.  Then I had to buy the exhibition book.

And a little extra:

Today the costumes and set materials from the Ballets Russes are scattered across the world in museums and in private collections.   You can look at the credits of the photos I’ve used to see a few of the collections that have Ballets Russes material.  For years, many of the costumes and sets had been in storage, and in 1967 the first of many auctions was held.  Over the next several decades the Victoria and Albert Museum amassed the largest collection of artifacts, but other museums such as the  Wadsworth Atheneum and the National Gallery of Australia have noteworthy collections.  You might be interested that the Australian collection was mostly bought in 1973 by an eleven-year-old boy.  Well, sort of.

National Museum of American History – America on the Move

It wasn’t all about fashion last week in Washington.  I managed to work in a travel exhibition as well.  America on the Move is a survey of Americans going places.  It is part of the ongoing remodeling of the museum, and is a walk through various scenes that show how travel has changed over the years.  To give you an idea of the size of the museum, included is an exhibit with an actual Southern Railway locomotive.

Above is a 1903 Winston, which was the first car to cross the United States.  Driven by Nelson Jackson and Sewall Crocker, they drove from California to New York, picking up Bud the bulldog in Idaho.  In many places there were no roads at all, and they had to have equipment to remove them from gullies and such.  The trip was completed in 63 days.

In this scene, a girl is standing on the porch of a tourist cabin, part of Ring’s Rest, a small motor court in Maryland.  Built in 1930, the court remained open until the 1960s.  The Ringe family, which owned the motor court donated the building and Cabins sign along with many photographs that document the business.

Look how tiny!  I’ve been in a few of these older cabins where there is room for only a bed, a small table and a chair or two.

Ring’s Rest, 1940s

The trailer is a 1934 Trav-L-Coach which was owned by the Eben Cate family of New Hampshire.  The scene is of their camping spot at Decatur Motor Camp in York, Maine.  While Father Cate sits, sleeping beneath his paper, Mother and Daughter are conducting business as usual in the trailer kitchen.

The test notes pointed out that the trailer was already damaged where the cut-away section is.   This little taste of vintage trailers made me more than ever want to visit the RV/MH Hall of Fame in Elkhart, Indiana.

Station wagons were the mom vans and SUVs of the 1950s.  How would you like to load the back of this 1955 Ford Country Squire with a picnic basket full of great food, a Scotch Kooler, and a red plaid Pendleton blanket?

The First Ladies at the National Museum of American History

Probably the first fashion exhibition I ever saw was the old First Ladies Hall in the National Museum of American History.   It was 1973, I was eighteen and I’ve been in love with historical fashion ever since.  Several years ago I was pretty dismayed to learn that the old hall was being updated, and that there would no longer be a dress from every First Lady on display.  But considering that some of the dresses had been on view since 1914, I’m sure it was past time for some of them to be taken down for conservation’s sake.

It is part of a general update the entire museum is undergoing.  Built in 1964, the National Museum of American History is part of the Smithsonian.  When I last visited the museum in the mid 1990s, I couldn’t tell that much had changed in the museum from my previous visits, with the exception of a few new artifacts like Archie Bunker’s chair and Mr. Rogers’s sweater.  But now all the exhibits are being revamped to make it more interactive and visitor friendly.  For the most part, it is a huge improvement.

The First Ladies exhibition is now more compact, but it is a huge draw within the museum.  I had to stand in line with lots of schoolgirls who were just as enthralled as I had been on my first visit years ago.  And that’s pretty amazing considering that elsewhere in the Smithsonian, it was evidently Teenagers Runamuck Day.

My photos are quite poor, due to the glass cases and the very dim lighting, but the exhibition itself is quite beautiful, even with the hoards of people and the noise.  It is still worth taking the time to see, though it does not, of course, have anywhere near the impact of all those lovely ladies lined up from Martha Washington to Hillary Clinton.

The top photo shows a dress from Mamie Eisenhower.  The dress looks red, but is actually a nice dark pink.  It was made by designer Nettie Rosenstein, and the matching handbag is beaded.

These two dresses belonged to Grace Coolidge, who gave them to her maid, Maggie Rogers.

This gown was worn by Caroline Scott Harrison circa 1890.  It was later altered.

The Chanel-style suit is actually one of Nancy Reagan’s many Adolfos.  The dress behind Mrs. Harrison’s was Eleanor Roosevelt’s 1933 inaugural ball, and was designed by Sally Milgrim.

Both of these dresses were worn by Lou Hoover, who was considered to be a very fashionable woman.  The evening dress is silk with metallic threads interwoven.  Mrs. Hoover was the first First Lady to appear in Vogue.

This gown was Jackie Kennedy’s, of course.  It was designed by Oleg Cassini for a state dinner in 1961.  According to his autobiography, he made this dress with one shoulder as a stepping-stone to making a strapless dress for her.  And that he did very soon.

The dress is the background was not for a midget; this was an unfortunate trick of perspective.  The dress belonged to Julia Dent Grant.

I’m sure you all recognize this dress as the one worn by Michelle Obama for the first inauguration in 2009.  Designed by Jason Wu, I can tell you that even though I’d seen this dress in dozens of photos and in video, its beauty was simply astounding.  Maybe it was because all the news photos were so brightly lit, but I’d never noticed how the dress sparkles, with little bits of gold embroidered throughout.

Note the crowds of viewers.

Dolly Madison was well-represented, as she should be.

This dress, with both a daytime and an even bodice, was worn by Mary Todd Lincoln.  It is thought to have been made by Elizabeth Keckley.

Note Patricia Nixon’s name imprinted inside her Herbert Levine shoes.

This is another dress belonging to Grace Coolidge.

And I do have to show a garment from at least one president, so here are Warren G. Harding’s silk pajamas and his slippers.

I have more photos from the NMAH that I’ll be showing next week.  To see good pictures of the dresses, plus some more, you should visit the museum’s Pinterest page that is devoted to the First Ladies collection.

ADDITION:

I meant to talk about the big difference in experience of this museum and that of the DAR.  It is amazing how much a little quiet and solitude can mean when one is trying to absorb information.  After returning home I realized just how little I had retained from the First Ladies exhibit, so I turned to the internet to refresh my memory.  The notes on the museum website are the same as that on the museum text panels, and I was surprised to see just how much I missed in the details of these items.

For anyone planning a trip to Washington, DC, I suggest that you put this very popular exhibit at the top of your schedule.  Be there then the museum opens and go straight to it before the crowd starts to gather.

Fashioning the New Woman: 1890 – 1925, DAR Museum

When it comes to travel opportunities I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a bit of an opportunist.  Last week I found it necessary to pay a visit to my 93 year old uncle in West Virginia, and I realized I was just a few hours away from Washington, DC.  I had hopes of visiting the city later this summer as there were two exhibitions I really wanted to see.  Instead of waiting, I made a quick trip into the Capital for a day of museum hopping.

First on my list was the Museum at the Daughters of the American Revolution.  That might seem to be an odd place for a fashion exhibition, but the museum has a very nice collection of historic costume, much of it coming from member donations.  What really sold me on a visit was their online exhibition showing the highlights.

The focus of the exhibition was how the changing roles of women led to changes in fashion.  Just a glance at the introductory exhibit tells the story of how the highly styled gown of 1888 slowly changed into the sleek and streamlined 1925 evening dress of sequins and beads, a change made necessary by the more active lifestyles women were leading.

I’ve said it before, but I really do prefer a clothing exhibition that has an historic perspective, rather than one that tries too hard to convince me that fashion is art.  The combination of fashion and history and women’s social issues was to me, an irresistible combination.   The curator presented us with a timeline that showed the changes that took place over the course of the thirty-five years that the exhibition covered, and she included in the notes the things that were significant about each garment.  You could see the bustle disappear, the waistline change, and then disappear.

I also loved that this was not just dresses, but included accessories that included hats, shoes, stockings, bags, and jewelry.   It was interesting to see how the shape of shoes changed as they became visible as skirts rose from the floor.  And many of the dressed mannequins had appropriate hats and shoes to go with the dress.  Also included was a good selection of undergarments.

The day I visited I was there when the museum opened, and when I left, an hour and a half later, there had been only four other visitors to the museum.  Those of us who have been to the big “blockbuster” shows put on by the major museums can appreciate what a better experience this is than having to manage your way along a long line of other viewers, with the exhibits passing by like a moving show.  Here you could stand and contemplate, compare and revisit the entire show at will.  It is the very best kind of museum experience.

Another big plus is that most of the items were not behind glass, so you could get a good view.  And the museum has a very liberal photography policy, with made me happy.

And now for the tour…

The exhibition got off to a great start with this lovely creation by Charles Frederick Worth, 1888.  Think of it as the “before” photo.

And this silver creation would be the “after.”  There was no information on the maker, but it is a spectacular dress.

Click to enlarge

I thought this was a great idea – an assemblage of the typical things in an upper class lady’s wardrobe, circa 1900-1905.

A large case containing accessories had a great selection of stockings…

and gloves…

and handbags.

The notes pointed out that the game of golf had become so popular that it was often used to market items that may or may not have been used for the game.

I loved these socks, partly because I have a pair of gloves that have the same ruffled trim.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pair of 1920s anklets before.

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

The timeline was quite informative.

One of the highlights was this lovely dress from the Paris couture House of Doucet.

I’m sorry this shot of the details is so poor, but I had to show it anyway.  What looks like a black inset is actually gold mesh, now tarnished.

Click to enlarge

If there was a weakness in the exhibition, it was that there were only two garments from the 1920s.  There seems to be something missing between the last two garments; a dress from 1922-23 would have filled the gap.

There was an exhibit on WWI uniforms…

and clothing worn by suffragettes.

During these years, more and more women were attending college, and here we see three facets of the college woman’s wardrobe:  classroom, gym, and graduation.

The gymsuit is circa 1905.

Woman were also participating in sports, and so specialized clothing was becoming necessary.

The skirt has a hidden pocket in the lining at shin level that holds golfballs.  And note the sweater vest that is so similar to the one pictured on the muffler box shown above.

This was identified as a golf cape – a popular item for golf and for the college campus.

This 1890s sports sweater was one of my favorite items in the exhibition.

The pair of canvas tennis boots are the earliest pair of Keds I’ve ever seen.

And finally, a nice riding habit and wool bathing suit.  I’m not so sure that it would have been a good idea to actually try to dive while wearing it though!

The DAR Museum is located on the corner of 17th Street and D Street.  It is open Monday through Saturday and there is also a fantastic history library and rooms decorated in historic styles.  Fashioning the New Woman will be open until August 31, 2013.

The Museum at The Fashion Institute of Technology

One of the highlight of my trip to New York was a stop in at the Museum at FIT.  The current exhibition is called Fashion and Technology, a look at how changing technology has affected fashion design and garment production.  Don’t be misled by the name, thinking that all the garments are of modern, high tech fabrics.  The earliest garments in the show are a man’s coat and waistcoat, circa 1780-1800.  The items were made from machine knit fabric, the latest technological advance in the textile industry in 1780.

The five dresses shown above each illustrate a technology that we simply take for granted today.  The circa 1800 white dress is made from cotton, which was not easily manufactured until the invention of the cotton gin and the spinning jenny.  The circa 1844 brown dress is made of fabric woven on the new jacquard loom.  Note the sewing machine in front of the next white dress.  That dress shows a combination of both hand and machine stitching.  The last two dresses show advances in fabric finishes and dyes; the light brown dress has a moiré finish and the purple was dyed using the new to the 1860s aniline dye.

Note the computer screen in front of the white dress.  It shows the inner workings of the dress, letting the visitors see both the machine and the hand stitching present in the dress.  This was just one use of modern technology in the exhibition.  There were videos set up throughout the hall showing several runway shows that have incorporated technologies, including Burberry’s holograms and McQueen’s robotic paint sprayers.

The exhibition continues through the end of the 19th century and into the 20th.  There are some beautiful 1920s garments that show the influence of the the Art Deco movement and how technology influenced the design motifs of that era.  And the new technology of zippers is shown with a Schiaparelli dress and one by designer Charles James.

In this 1955 Charles James dress, the zipper helps to form the shape and fit of the gown.

With the 1950s and 60s came synthetic fabrics.  One really interesting dress was a “wash and wear” fabric dress by Claire McCardell which was displayed along with an ad for a washing machine (or maybe it was for powdered soap; I lost my note on it).

The photo above shows some of the interesting fabrics of the 1960s.  Starting on the left you see a pair of “space age” inspired boots and a dress by French designer André Courrèges.  The first pink dress is made from paper, and the second one is a dress from Pierre Cardin, made from a heat molded fabric.  There is a plastic disc dress from Paco Rabanne, circa 1965, and a jumpsuit by Emilio Pucci made of an elasticized silk shantung fabric, “Emilioform.”  Finally, the yellow coat is made by Yves Saint Laurent from PVC.

Here’s a closer look at the Courrèges and the paper dress.

No talk about technology and fabrics would be complete without a look at Ultrasuede®.  The suit on the left is by Halston, circa 1975.  On the right is a dress from Mary McFadden made from her signature poly pleated fabric.  And don’t miss the platform shoes with the built-in wheels.

On the left is a Pleats Please dress from  Issey Miyake , 1997.  The hologram ensemble is from Kenneth Richards. 1996.  And the jumpsuit is Jean Paul Gaultier’s look at cyberspace, 1996.

And of course, in the past few years, we have seen more and more influences from technology:  Gareth Pugh, 2012, Louise Gray, 2012, and Mandy Coon, 2013.

Fashion and Technology runs through May8, 2013, and if you are going to be in the New York City area, you really should make time to see it.  I went with my two friends, neither of whom gives a whit about fashion history (or so they thought) but both of whom were completely absorbed in the experience.  The only disappointment was that this was the only exhibition, as Ivy Style had just closed, and it left them wanting more.

The small photos are clickable to see enlargements.

All photographs courtesy The Museum at FIT, New York.  To see more of the exhibition, visit the special website that FIT has set up for it.

Little Vera Neumann Cocktail Time Book

Part of the fun of the Metropolitan Museum of Art is its fantastic book and gift store.   After our visit we barely had 15 minutes to shop before closing, but as we were walking through the shop, my eye was caught by a favorite Vera Neumann design.   This little book is filled with recipes for favorite cocktails, of course.  Built into the back is a magnet so it can become part of your refrigerator decor.

If you have been a reader here for a while, you might recognize the design.  I have a set of cocktail napkins, though the colorway is different, and I recently spotted a set in blue.  These have been reproduced in recent years, but the new ones have a very shiny thread for the hem overcasting, so be sure to always look.

The Vera Company owns the original artwork for many of Vera’s designs, and they often enter into agreements with companies who want to use the work.

The little book has a page where it tells a bit about Vera Neumann.   The part about the White House is interesting.  The fabric used by Bess Truman was Vera’s famous fern design.  It didn’t stay in the White House long, as they did not survive the remodeling by Mrs. Kennedy.

Art and Fashion

Last week I lamented the fact that the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York did not have an exhibition while I was there.  But even without actual clothing on display, one can always get a nice dose of fashion at an art museum just by observing the paintings and the people portrayed within.  Fashion historians often closely scrutinize the clothing in paintings, especially those painted before the photograph came along.

I’m always amazed by the skill that many painters show in recreating the details of dress.  Laces in particular would seen to be hard to show, with their quality of being both opaque and see-through.

This Gilbert Stuart portrait of Matilda Stroughton de Jaudenes, painted in 1794 gives an excellent view of her dress and the rich embroideries and laces on it.  She was just married to  a wealthy Spanish diplomat, and the richness of her dress reflects her new status.

This portrait of Euphemia White Van Rensselaer was painted by George P. A. Healy in 1842.  Note how well he captured the texture of the fabrics worn by Euphemia – the velvet trimmed in satin and the moire skirt are quite evident.  Healy even managed to make the feathers on her bonnet look soft.

Often it helps to know the back story of a painting in order not to get a confusing picture of the fashions of an era.  In 1883 John Singer Sargent approached Madame Pierre Gautreau and she eventually allowed him to paint her.  She was well-known in Paris for her daring style and beauty, which Sargent was determined to emphasize.  Although sleeveless dresses were not unheard of at that level of society, to most of the viewers at the 1884 Paris Salon it was scandalous.  It did not help that one of the jeweled straps had dropped off her shoulder, and eventually Sargent had to give in and repaint it in its proper place.

UPDATE:  Here is a photo showing the painting before Sargent made the changes.

In the same room at the Met is probably my very favorite Singer painting, the wedding portrait of Mrs. Isaac Newton Phelps Stokes, 1897.  Originally Mrs. Stokes was to wear a satin evening gown, but one day she arrived at her sitting in the walking outfit shown above.  Sargent loved the look so much that he changed his mind and painted her in it.  It must have seemed so modern for a woman to be shown in her outing clothes.  That’s her new husband standing behind her.  Originally Sargent was going to paint a Great Dane, but when the dog became unavailable, the husband stepped in to finish the composition.

Off topic, but very interesting:  Mrs. Stokes was Edith Minturn, and was the aunt of Edie Sedgwick who was named for her aunt.

I think it is interesting how much more modern Edith Stokes looks than do these two women, painted in 1909 by William McGregor Paxton.  In Tea Leaves, the women somehow look as they are merely a part of the room.  Still, the fashions of the era are nicely captured.

This painting by Winslow Homer, Eagle Head, Manchester, Massachusetts, was painted in 1870.  What is notable about the painting is the lack of coverage the clothing provides for two of the bathers.  When the painting was adapted as an illustration for a popular magazine, the engraver added stockings and the little dog was replaced with the girl’s missing cap.

The painting above is by Claude Monet, Garden at Sainte-Adresse, 1867.  He is one of the artists featured in the exhibition, Impressionism, Fashion, and Modernity.  It started out at the Musee d’Orsey in Paris, and will open at the Met (in a slightly different form) on February 20 and at the Art Institute of Chicago in June.  I just put the companion book on my wishlist at Amazon and an early fall trip to Chicago sure sounds like the thing to do.

And I’ve got one last painting to share:

I fell in love with Ammi Philips’ Girl in Red Dress with Cat and Dog, 1834-1836 not because of her dress, but because of the sweet-faced dog and the frilly pantaloons peeking from beneath the dress.