after prufrock

@ Papa Stour.  A collection of perfectly irresistible gifts (though somewhat more resistible price-tags). I especially adore their collection of handsome bowls, made with royal Scottish timbers such as ash, oak, and cherry. They even have egg cosies, available in Amoroso or Hydra for the charming price of £15.00 each.

There is something garishly delectable about Gareth Pugh’s work. His solid, architectural aesthetic melds progressively with the gothic, the treacherous, and the peculiar. And despite claims that his style has yet to experience a commercial “evolution”, the debate between whether the pieces are sellable or mere works of art feels exceedingly tedious when attending to the visual assessment of his work. What is of interest is not whether the designer is the darling of the elite fashion world, or whether he can barely afford to live in a shoebox with two meager powerpoints (obviously reserved for the sewing machines, never the heating). Rather, what is of import is the role his vision plays in a fashion world dominated by commercially motivated fashion designers, who are more interested in setting trends then stretching both the physical and the transcendental boundaries of the cloth.

Of course, being experimental doesn’t necessarily equate to something of quality, but you really only need to glance at Pugh’s pieces to recognise his geometrical precision, the craftsmanship of his designs. What especially impresses me is his fluidity in using immense volume and his utter fearlessness in exploiting the silhouette. And whilst it’s hard not to admit that each upcoming season takes on a feeling of increasing familiarity, I think it’s fair to assume that Pugh has plenty more sparks up his sleeve with which to electrify us in the future.

[Left to Right: Fall 06, Fall 08, Spring 07]

Gareth Pugh Official Site

1935: Office junior Edward Young spends the day at London Zoo sketching penguins at every angle possible. The idea of the penguin was inspired by the contemporary German publishing house The Albatross Library, and it’s successful paperback design followed closely. Young sets the standards for early Penguin with the classic three-band cover, the simple yet deft Gill Sans typeface and the efficient colour coding scheme (orange for fiction, green for crime, blue for biography). Young was also responsible for the early marketing of the popular paperbacks, hooking onto the equation of the original cover price of 6d (pennies) as equivalent to the cost of ten cigarettes. In an era where paperback literature was only available with luridly illustrated covers and often bad quality fiction, the affordable penguins reeled in the masses with their smart design and sound choice of texts.

Upcoming Chapter: Penguin Composition Rules & and the Tschichold redesign.

This exhibition left me feeling only mildly interested. The material, which was separated into profound segments such as “Notebook”, “Typewriter”, and “The Return of the Notebook”, was definitely of a high calibre, but Cave’s creative process didn’t strike me as unique or brilliant enough to warrant an entire gallery worth of his notes plastered on the walls. That is not to say that the actual items in his collection didn’t strike a cord – Cave is a discerning hoarder. His books, for example, had me aching for the cabinet key in which they were presented – “The Anatomy of Melancholy” by Robert Burton, a truly vintage copy of “Lolita” by Nabokov, and the most exquisitely illustrated books on Saints.

On the whole, however, the current wasn’t strong enough to propel me into the bubbling lake of NickCave adoration. It was like the Andy Warhol exhibition, except the artist in question was still in stock of his mortality, which therefore imbued the entire show with somewhat smug, egocentric aura, bordering on pretension. Or, in other words, one should perhaps tame the desire of conceive of such a show, until, the one, is dead.

Alternativley, this entire venture could just be Cave himself poking a stick at the entire “living legend” concept- you wouldn’t put it past him.

Interview: Janine Barrand, Curator