A Stuffy Room of Statement Sleeves
Forcing the separation of content from experience
Tucked into a bleak concrete frame at the corner of Fashion Ave (7th Avenue) and West 27th street is the museum at FIT, hidden further inside is a gallery housing the exhibition: Statement Sleeves. The show, guarded faithfully by unpleasant hired security, was curated by Colleen Hill and is showing January 24-August 25 of this year. Hill, the curator of costumes and accessories, has been with the museum for eighteen years, curating or co-curating more than a dozen exhibitions with FIT. In a post through her socials she mused about her curatorial role, “This was a really fun one to curate. I was spoiled for choice and had the chance to think beyond the leg-of-mutton (though there’s plenty of that!) to make dynamic, unexpected selections…”
The exhibition features over seventy garments from the museum's permanent collection, with pieces dating back to the eighteenth century. Opening marks made by the mannequins introduce a history of fundamental sleeve styles like the Bell, the Bishop, Kimono, and the Dolman. Highlighting structural innovations and their timely practical materiality. Moving deeper, chronology is lost and replaced by a thematic curation of complimentary aesthetics, or so it's told.
Stepping into the space I took the time to bask in the dingy lighting. Locking eyes with an indiscernible rack of rainbow garments, three seconds was long enough so I pivoted my glare to the mannequins on my left, dressed in all black. Going down the line, they introduced me to inspirations of trumpets and churches and lanterns and bats. Form adapted from surroundings and crafted to take up space. The garments seemed lonely despite their company. Off-putting muted gray walls clashing with the rich velvets and puffed taffeta. Surely they had a different can of paint in a storage closet somewhere.
So many touristy bodies clogging the claustrophobic walkways and setting off sensors for getting too close to the mannequins. Apparently I arrived at the peak of amateur hour. They stole the leisure from my outing. Beyond feeling the bags of strangers brush against my back, as the attention to chronology fell away, so did any sense of continued narrative. The colors and fabrics were mostly beautiful and dimensional, but when positioned next to a random Helmut Lang denim jacket, I lost the point. The final stretch found in the back corner presented suspended phantom arms wearing detachable sleeves, finally summiting the peak of my bewilderment. See, if there had been an entire gallery wall dedicated to this presentation style, I would have found more comfort in the display. Unfortunately, there were only two pairs of arms to debut.
I see the dream and I see the parameters, however I couldn't bring myself to understand the execution. Discovering the artists and design houses responsible for the innovations (Ann Demeulemeester for the Dolman/Batwing sleeve) was my favorite part of my trip to FIT. With a little more attention to theme, lighting, and paint shade, Statement Sleeves could have pulled off a more compelling show of historical playfulness.
