Cut! Costume and the Cinema: An Exhibit

This is the closest I could get to a movie set. The actual costume worn by prominent screen actors in period movies, that’s the current exhibit “Cut! Costume and the Cinema” at the Glenbow Museum in the centre of Cowtown. Some of the designs had garnered Academy Awards.

Since I could not take any photos inside, this outdoor poster is the only one that I could capture on my camera to give you a sense of what’s in the exhibit: 43 costumes from 25 blockbusters, worn by 30 stars. Mind you, just watching the clothes on headless mannequins is not the same as seeing them on real people with all the set and props you see on screen. So in a way, this is a deconstruction of the magic. However, to have such an exhibition come to Cowtown, I’m excited just the same.

All the items from the exhibition are from the renowned costume house Cosprop of London, England. I learn that for those representing a period before the sewing machine, they have to be hand sewn to reflect authenticity. And due to the cost and labor involved, costumes are usually altered from other existing costumes, seldom are they made from scratch.

Here’s a sample of what I saw, costumes worn by:

Kate Winslet as Marianne Dashwood in “Sense and Sensibility”

Renée Zellweger as Beatrix Potter in “Miss Potter

Emmy Rossum as Christine in “The Phantom of the Opera”

Maggie Smith as Constance Trentham in “Gosford Park”

Vanessa Redgrave as Ruth Wilcox in “Howards End”

Scarlett Johansson as Olivia Wenscombe in “The Prestige”

Colin Farrell as Captain Smith in “The New World”

Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow in “Pirates of the Caribbean”

Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson

Keira Knightly as Georgiana and Ralph Fiennes as the Duke in the Oscar winning costume design of “The Duchess”

… and some others.

But what resonated most with me was that deep turquoise long dress worn by Natasha Richardson as Countess Sofia Belinskya, matching with Ralph Fiennes’s dark green plaid suit jacket in his role as the blind Todd Jackson in “The White Countess.” Looking at the costumes brought back scenes from that movie… the quiet resilience of Sofia, the white countess from Russia, now a refugee in WWII Shanghai, turning a new page in her life with the wounded but passionate ex-diplomat Todd Jackson. Just sad to know she’s no longer with us.

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CLICK HERE to an informative video on the exhibit by the Boca Raton Museum of Art in Florida. A 5 min. virtual tour with commentary by Cut! curator Nancy Lawson. 

You may also be interested in these previous posts on Ripple Effects:

Natasha Richardson: Nell and The White Countess

The Merchant Ivory Dialogues

Howards End by E. M. Forster

Miss Potter for Christmas

Austen-inspired Acceptance Speech

Tate Modern and Billy Elliot

Solution to Arti’s Cryptic Challenge #1:  London… don’t mind the gap.

When time is short, you must select and forego.  The Tate Modern has long been on my ‘must-see’ list yet unfulfilled.  So for the short stay I had in London, I chose this one above all else.  Five years ago, my then 15 year-0ld son went to visit and wrote in his email back to me: ‘Tate Modern is brilliant.’  This time I got to see it first hand.

If a museum of modern art can wow a teenager, there must be something in there that links the gap.  And was I disappointed?  Yes and no.  No because it was brilliant indeed, both the conceptual design, architecture and the exhibits.  And yes, because I was so preoccupied with the directions getting there from our hotel that I forgot my camera.  No excuse for that, I know.  And what makes it worse, the museum allows photography even of its exhibits.  In my utter disappointment, my now 20 year-old said to me calmly, ‘you just have to make do.’  That I did with my iPhone.

The Tate Modern was converted into a modern art museum from an obsolete power plant on the south bank of the River Thames.  The idea itself is brilliant. What better use of a derelict power station along the beautiful Thames?  Used to be a gloomy stretch of land by the river bank, now the whole area, the Southbank, is revitalized and is home to many London attractions, including the Shakespeare Globe Theatre, the Millennium Bridge, The London Eye, theatres and green, open space.

And thanks to Wikipedia Commons, I found the following photos.  The Tate Modern viewed from the Millennium Bridge.

The Tate Modern was designed by the Swedish architects Jacques Herzog and Pierre de Meuron, the 2001 winner of the Pritzker Prize, the ‘Nobel Prize’ of architecture.  Their concept of maintaining the industrial motif and juxtaposing it with the artistic is ingenious.  Furthermore, they have turned the massive industrial space into a people space.  The main entryway is named The Turbine Hall, allowing people to fill the massive vacuum that was once associated with a power plant. The huge area also makes display of larger pieces of exhibits possible.  Now they are doing it again, yet another redesigning, an even more amazing remodelling and addition, all for the 2012 Olympics Summer Games in London.

Two streams of thoughts constantly ran through my mind during this trip.  One was the dichotomy of ‘High Art’ and ‘Public Art’, ‘high culture’ and ‘popular culture’.  Does such a rift still exist?  All the galleries and museums I visited were all flooded with people.  It was hard to take a picture without any heads caught in the frame.  So every photo I took was immediate.  I had to wait for people to move away and snap the moment quickly.  In the Turbine Hall at the Tate Modern, I saw families with young children, many pushing baby carriages, kids doing cartwheels on the huge floor space.

Is it still ‘high art’ if the exhibits are free to the public, a destination for family outing?  As a rock concert ticket can cost hundreds of dollars… now does that re-define the ‘high’ in culture?  Is it still ‘high art’ if people can get in free, as with the Tate Modern collection, enjoy what they see, gasp at the possibilities, or be bewildered by a notion conveyed through an artwork?  Do we need to ‘understand’ art in order to enjoy it?  Maybe we should just allow the object of art to speak for itself, and thereby, linking the gaps between us.

Here are a few exhibits I took with my iPhone.  Please do click on the link of each piece to see the good photos at the Tate Modern website and an explanation.  I was gratified to see works from some of my favourite artists in their original.

Metamorphosis of Narcissus by Salvadore Dali, the work that changed Freud’s original negative view of Surrealist art.  In the painting, you’re supposed to see Narcissus on a pedestal in the background, then kneeling by the fatal pond, and lastly transformed into a flower… and what a self-absorbed egghead he was:

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Man with a Newspaper (1928) by René Magritte (1898-1967), under the section ‘Poetry and Dream’.  These are supposedly four different perspectives … mmm … , but hey, this is Magritte speaking.  His dead pan surrealist style is regarded as a subtle form of social critique.

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And here are a few other interesting works. Polish artist Magdalena Abakanowicz’s ‘Anti-form’ sculpture which she created during the 1960’s Soviet-occupation of Warsaw, another example of the freeing effect of art and the social statement they subtly convey:



Untitled sculpture with wood and wool by Jannis Kounellis, homage to Jackson Pollock’s drip painting:

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I like this work of open books, but don’t remember the artist or the name of it.  With the fast emergence of eBooks, this work could soon become an antique artifact:

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The second event I chose was to see ‘Billy Elliot The Musical’.  I liked the movie a lot, appreciating the depth of conflicts which touch on the same dichotomy: ‘High Culture’ and ‘Mass Culture’, and the seeming incompatibility of art and life.  A miner’s son in a blue collar neighbourhood is attracted to the beauty of the ballet, and the freeing energy of dance.

The conflict persists starkly as the political backdrop of the miners’ strike turns ugly in the 1984-85 years. While their livelihood is at stake, and as the miners determine to pose the fiercest strike action against the Thatcher government, where does ballet come in?  It sounds trivial and even surreal to think of ballet compared to the major battles raging in the country. But this is also a conflict between the individual and the masses, the individual and, yes, even the family.

Billy’s new-found love and immense talent ultimately melt the heart of his macho father and older brother, and soon those in the mining community.  He is given the chance to audition for the National Ballet School, with the local miners raising funds to support his cause.


The movie allows more in-depth exploration of internal conflicts while as a musical, the focus has shifted to the dance performance, the music, and for crowd appeal, some Monty Python style romp com, mellow-dramatic scenes, and many exaggerated, stereotypical expressions and language choices. I’m afraid it looks like a contrived way to bring the ‘high’ down to the ‘common’ level.  Elton John’s music while lively, seems lacking in variety and depth compared to his other works and those in the Andrew Lloyld Webber tradition.

Performed on the London stage since 2005 and still going strong, ‘Billy Elliot the Musical’ is directed by Stephen Daldry, lyrics and book by Lee Hall.  It has won both the Lawrence Olivier Awards in England and the Tony Awards in the US.  It went on Broadway in 2008, and on the main stages in several other countries.  The night I went the role Billy Elliot was performed by 12 year-0ld Rhys Yeomans, and he was marvellous, both as actor and dancer.  He practically carried the whole show on his young shoulders, singing, acting, and dancing in superb style, energy, and versatility.  The role of Michael, Billy’s friend, was done animatedly by another 12-year-old, Reece Barrett. The boys’ performance were the main attractions for me.

In the middle of the show however, the performance was interrupted by a technical difficulty.  It was no minor glitch.  We had to wait in our seat for around 15 minutes before performance resumed.  Now that had discounted some of my enjoyment.  And when the show started again, a scene was skipped.  But overall, it was quite an experience at the Victoria Theatre in London.  A good choice I still think considering the limited time I had in London.

Summer Hours (l’Heure d’été, France 2008)

September is International Film Fest month in several Canadian cities.  Kicking off was the prominent TIFF (Toronto, world’s largest FF), now’s the CIFF (Calgary), and later on in the month, the VIFF (Vancouver).  Last year I was able to catch a glimpse from each one of these events.  But this year I’ll just stick with Calgary.

Went to see French director Olivier Assayas’ (Paris, je t’aime, 2006; Clean, 2004)  Summer Hours last night, the only screening in Calgary.  Writing the script himself, Assayas has created a film so realistic that it seems like a docudrama.  The story is about three adult siblings dealing with the estate of their mother (Edith Scob), a treasure house filled with objets d’arts, from furniture to vases, paintings to artist notebooks.  It’s a visual delight for the art lovers in the audience, albeit the camera doesn’t stay long enough for us to savor… I’d love to see more close-up lingering shots of the notebooks.

What’s realistic of course is, while the objects can easily be passed on from one generation to the next, the emotions and sentiments associated with them cannot.  The eldest son Frédéric (Charles Berling) wishes to leave the house as is so everyone in the family can still stop by and cherish the memories, but his other two siblings think otherwise.  Adrienne (Juliette Binoche) works as a designer in New York and is soon getting married.  Jérémie (Jérémie Renier) works with a sports manufacturing company in China and is settled there with his family.  Though all appreciate the memories of their childhood home in France and the artifacts within, they have their own life to live and family to raise elsewhere.  Their decision of how to deal with their mother’s estate is a practical one, sell it.

The Musée d’Orsay in Paris is the honorable recipient of these personal treasures.  Actually, Assayas was commissioned by the Museum to create the film in celebration of its 20th anniversary.  Here we see the pathos of turning family heirloom into museum pieces, albeit handled gently and meticulously by the staff.  Herein lies the crux of the film.  Assayas has depicted the human side of objets d’arts that we see in museums, how they could have been everyday household items, a table on which notes have been scribbled and letters written, a vase that has held many cut flowers from the garden.  These have been objects used and enjoyed privately by families, but are now desensitized, hung or displayed in a public arena.  The personal and subjective experiences could never be captured by the public eye.

The last scene is a closure for the pain of letting go.  The teenage grandchildren have one last chance to enjoy the house and its idyllic setting as they hold a large party for their friends.  The young immerse themselves in loud music, dancing, doping, and dipping in the pond, unaware of the passing of one era to the next.  A brief moment of sadness takes hold of the oldest granddaughter, as she savors a lingering memory in the garden.  She is joined by her boyfriend for a brief reminiscence and the next moment, they quickly dash back to the house to rejoin the party.  Assayas has painted the poignant in a most subtle manner.

~ ~ ~ Ripples