Doris Day and Rock Hudson – perhaps the most glamorous of mid-century pillow talkers.

Well not exactly pillow talk, you know, that is, not talk over a pillow or in the midst of pillows or under the pillows.  Rather, let’s talk about pillows, which pillows, how many pillows, what color of pillows…  It’s about pillows in the Miller House conversation pit, and what to do about changing them for the season as winter relents.

The interiors of the Miller House have a lot of eye-catching elements, to be sure, but the biggest crowd pleaser has got to be the conversation pit, a 15-foot-square, 2 ½ -foot-deep exercise in below-floor-level decorative decadence.  It’s been touted as the very first conversation pit, but that’s a pretty difficult statement to verify.  There are certainly plenty of antecedents, as well as related interior features in houses of the ‘40s and ‘50s.  Houses of the Victorian and Arts and Crafts eras had inglenooks and similar areas of built-in seating.  And it’s not hard to find mid-century houses that featured floor level changes that also incorporated seating.  Eero Saarinen and Charles Eames created such designs for the Case Study Houses in California in the 1940s.  Whether the Miller House conversation pit is indeed the first is something of an exercise in architectural hair-splitting, but if anyone knows of an earlier pit of the same completely enclosed configuration, we’d love to hear about it.

Interior, Case Study House #9.

The “pit” in the Case Study House above shapes the spatial flow of the interior – down to the embrace of the fireplace and outward at the same level to the landscape beyond.   With interior designer Alexander Girard in the mix at the Miller House, the pit concept does something different.  Functionally, it achieves the goal of providing significant seating without the clusters of furniture that Saarinen so detested.  Being below the floor level, it provided nothing to impede the view to the west through the allée of honey locust trees.  By enclosing the pit on all four sides, with entry by means of a short flight of seemingly-floating padouk wood steps, Girard made the pit into a huge, discrete decorative object that balances the 50-foot storage wall and the marble-topped dining table.  It shouts for the viewer’s attention, rewards it with a lush display of textiles, and offers the novelty of looking down to something other than the floor.

Your view from the Miller House conversation pit.

After this (purposeful) digression, we will return to the subject at hand: pillows.  From what we know of Mrs. Miller’s wishes, the house needed such an object.  She was interested in a means for decorative variety and change in an interior dominated by marble, travertine, plaster, and steel.  The conversation pit served this function.  Though constructed of Aurisina marble, the pit demanded seat and back cushions for comfort, all with slip covers.  And loose pillows – lots of them.  All these, as well as the rug on the pit floor, were changed seasonally to refresh the room’s appearance.

We are just embarking on changing the pillows for the first time.  Since the IMA acquired the house in 2009, the conversation pit has been wearing its winter garb of richly-colored pillows, many of them covered in woolen fabrics.  The summer scheme, carefully worked out in the original plan by Girard, employed fabrics lighter in both color and texture, many of them the striped Mexican cottons (Mexicottons) that he designed.

Drawing from cross-cultural inspirations, Girard designed fabrics with innovative color combinations.  Many of the Mexicotton pillowcases at the Miller House share a simple plain-weave structure and a cotton composition, but the placement of color separates each fabric as a unique and innovative design element.  Stripes were created by alternating colors of custom-dyed yarn as opposed to printing designs on the fabrics.  Below is only a small sampling of Girard’s many Mexicottons, which will soon be on display.  Below are details of two of the pillowcases created out of Mexicotton Stripe fabric.  The contrasting piping around the edge of each pillowcase is created out of Mexicotton Plain fabric:

For centuries, home furnishing fabrics have been changed with the seasons, which not only refreshed the room, but also contributed to the preservation of the color and appearance of some of the most significant, expensive, and vulnerable items that a family might own.  While conservation might not have been foremost in the thoughts of homeowners through the years, it is something we take very seriously at the IMA.  The seasonal rotation of the pillows at the Miller House allows us to realize two goals concurrently: it is in keeping with what Mrs. Miller originally intended and it will allow textile conservators an opportunity to assess the condition and needs of each unique pillow.

Before redressing the conversation pit in its vernal wardrobe, the curator and conservators teamed up and went to the Miller House to further discuss and implement the seasonal rotation.  The spring/ summer pillows were carefully removed from storage and placed on plastic close to the current display.  This facilitated curatorial decisions, such as which pillows, how many, and general placement.  While not yet in the conversation pit, the shifting palette of pillows from mulled wine to citrus spritzers can be observed easily.  And that red carpet on the floor of the conversation pit will be rotated out as well – but you’ll have to visit the Miller House to see the dramatic difference…

The conversation pit as it is currently installed, juxtaposed with the upcoming seasonal color scheme.

So, how does a seasonal rotation of pillows help preserve them for future generations?  Or more importantly – what happens to a pillow when it is not on display?  Once a textile is removed from display the conservators assess the current condition and address any need that the textile may have.  All of the textiles receive a gentle vacuuming as to not return them to storage with any dirt or dust that might have accumulated during display.  Each is then carefully packed and placed in a storage environment with stable temperature and relative humidity and away from light.  Protection from light is crucial in the preservation of textiles.

The Miller House is striking with its glass walls and skylight system; however, when textiles are struck by light some fabrics will fade (depending on the dyes used, type of light, and cumulative light exposure).  This orange pillow is slated for its public debut in the conversation pit.  When the side opening is gently pulled back one can observe that it has already faded from an electric orange to a humbler shade.  By rotating the pillows seasonally and placing them in dark storage for the time they are off view, we hope to extend the lush display of textiles in the conversation pit for years to come.

On the top is a detail of the inside of a pillowcase; below is the exterior of the same pillow case after years of light exposure:

Schedule a visit and be sure to experience the Miller House pillows for each season!

Over 100 pieces of American Indian art – including ritual objects, pottery, basketry and textiles – give our newest exhibition Art of the American Indians: The Thaw Collection a diverse and informative angle. The IMA’s access to these works is amazing in and of itself, but upon looking deeper into the variety of art featured in the Clowes Special Exhibition Gallery, it’s clear these pieces are more than just fun to look at.

The American Indian tradition is most immediately recognizable by its elaborate clothing and textiles; bright colors, rich textures, intricate patterns, soft feathers, complex beadwork, glimmering shells, painterly embroidery, and countless other materials define their clothing tradition. American Indian clothing has actually become a bit of a trend as of late – “Navajo” patterns and prints dominate stores like Urban Outfitters, which has recently come under fire for falsely identifying their clothes as such. Clothing, jewelry, and accessories in imitation-Indian styles were deemed “distasteful” and “racially demeaning,” and while that was most likely not the intention, it makes you wonder why the Urban Outfitters buyers were so careless about what they were selling.  They didn’t know an authentic print from a fake, but how could they? Along with this new “trend” comes an equally prevalent lack of education about American Indian traditions, which is why collections like the Thaws’ are so necessary.

The fashion news enthusiast in me was drawn first to the clothing and textiles in the exhibition; I was fascinated to see the original patterns and techniques American Indians created. I was uninformed about… well, everything beyond what I learned in elementary school.  None of my high school courses embraced the subject, nor did I ever realize I was missing out on vital information.

I decided textiles would be my starting point.

The difference between authentic American Indian textiles and the imitations we see in boutiques is context.  Girls today wear “Navajo” patterns because they’re cute and colorful; American Indians wore them to tell a story. Each piece has meaning – often about spirituality, family, and even animals.  Take the seal gut parka for example: Eskimo hunters wore these to protect themselves from wind and rain, but they let the parkas themselves emphasize their respect for the animal. Women carefully cleaned and blew air into the guts, then made the tubes opaque by freeze-drying them. Then they stitched V-shaped patterns to represent harpoon heads, wolves’ teeth, and mountains.

Hunters also wore hunting coats which covered the entire body and were often constructed of caribou skin. While at first it doesn’t seem particularly striking, the coat is rich with spiritual symbolism: the elaborate painted decorations were meant to honor the spirits of the caribou as well as bring success in the hunt. The triangular gusset in the back symbolizes the magical mountain from which the caribou left to surrender to the hunters.  The other patterns on the coat represent dreams, which wives interpreted and stitched into a design.

Dreams were meaningful and symbolic for American Indians, and something that was also appropriated by the consumer market in the form of fake plastic dreamcatchers sold at retailers across the country. Soldiers carried shields made of animal hides with feathered decorations on the front – the hide would repel arrows and clubs while the feathers represented a dream, which protected the warrior from harm. A spiritual green rainbow arcs over a white animal, presumed to be a lion, to represent a strong and able fighter. The entire piece resembles a traditional dreamcatcher, which was meant to catch its owner’s “good” dreams while releasing the “bad” dreams. Similarly, mystical concepts of the universe took shape in American Indian clothing. In the women’s buffalo robe the decoration isn’t to be interpreted in a single way – it could symbolize the life-giving powers of the universe, or simply focus on aesthetics and show a very abstract representation of a buffalo.

This is where American Indian art was ahead of its time; the introduction of abstract shapes and compositions was truly revolutionary. In the Chil’xáat Robe an image of a whale is broken down into geometric patterns and registers and woven across the sheath of wool; it is nearly unrecognizable at first.

The abstract idea goes even further with textiles like the “Eye Dazzler” Serape. Yarn needed to be commercially spun to satisfy traders’ needs, and this new practice was utilized in the serape. The bright yarns were woven into traditional serapes, creating a true juxtaposition of new vs. old techniques.

Rarely does art communicate history like a Native American piece. As Todd Bordeaux (a Rosebud Sioux from South Dakota) points out in our online multimedia section, Native American art goes beyond aesthetic value and beauty – instead, the indigenous treat their art as a form of activism. “We’re activists, and while we don’t march – we paint or draw or sculpt – and then we are able to educate people through the actual works.”

Not exactly. The old saying “history repeats itself” can be applied to fashion without fail.  Save for those unexplainable and unsettling fads (i.e. jelly shoes and acid wash denim), nearly everything in fashion can be traced to a previous trend or inspiration.  The long-sleeved mini dresses on the Azarro and Jil Sander runways? Direct 60s references. Prada looked back to the 50s with knee-length skirts and feminine hues. On countless runways, polka dots – one of the most classic prints – were given a fresh, modern spin.

While none of this is “new,” we’re definitely seeing it in a new way.

Luckily, fashionphiles like me have an advantage when it comes to tracing trends: the IMA’s very own Material World exhibition.  From crystal-encrusted Dior gowns to ornate Cambodian pieces, Material World is chock full of the clothes that started it all. Seeing the exquisite craftsmanship, rich colors, and tiny details up close means spotting fashion influences is both easy and fascinating. In particular, a feathered Chanel cape, a Tibetan regalia, Chinese imperial robe, and a two-piece Chanel suit stood out to me, and to demonstrate their timeless appeal, I compared them to Fall/Winter 2011 runways:

CHANEL FEATHERED CAPE, 1925

VALENTINO, DSQUARED, & GUCCI, FALL 2011

The 1920s was an age of excess and luxury, exuberance and joy.  This feathered, camel-colored Chanel cape exhibits all of these sentiments, with the addition of Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel’s exquisite tailoring and craftsmanship, of course. Wearing feather-adorned clothing was both an exotic new design idea and a shameless display of wealth for upper class Americans of the Roaring Twenties.  Naturally Chanel, the premiere couturier, was among the first to turn out magnificently feathered pieces.  The dense application of feathers gives the cape a soft, plush feel, yet true to form, Chanel kept the colors natural and the shape sleek and simple. Nothing too gaudy or over-the-top for the original minimalist.

Today, we’re seeing modern interpretations of the feathered trend – and not just feathered pieces, but opulent fur pieces as well.  But modern styling and shapes make all the difference in the world; take the Valentino feathered jacket, for example: ultra-naturalized feathers on a 60s-inspired swing coat, complete with cropped sleeves and a rounded collar. The juxtaposition makes an impact far greater than the original shapeless Chanel cape. Similarly, fur has held its ground as a fabric of luxury, and the past few seasons have shown a fur resurgence.  Designers are playing with different treatments of fur; think full sleeves, thick textures, even psychedelic dyes like turquoise, red and pink.

TIBETAN REGALIA for BUDDHIST ORACLE, early 1900s & CHINESE IMPERIAL ROBE, 1775-1825

DRIES VAN NOTEN, MARY KATRANTZOU, & ETRO, FALL 2011

The Tibetan tradition of the oracle’s regalia is to emphasize his connection to the spiritual world, just as the Chinese imperial robe expresses an emperor’s oneness with God. And while fashion today isn’t exactly spiritual, it’s arguable that our ability to see runway shows online connects us to the fashion gods (aka designers). Religion aside, the inspiration of Tibet and China is unmistakable on some of today’s biggest runways, including Dries Van Noten, Mary Katrantzou, and Etro, which featured looks with boldly mixed patterns, draped fabrics, ornate decoration, and metallic threads.

While the prints and fabrics on the regalia and robe were partially chosen for aesthetic reasons, they serve a greater symbolic meaning. The multi-piece regalia was made with imported silk and metallic threads to create a sense of opulence, and the three eyes on the headpiece show the oracle’s two physical eyes and his third “inner eye” that symbolizes enlightenment and wisdom.  In the modern Dries Van Noten, Kantratzou and Etro looks, the styling errs on the aesthetic side – but the bold colors, collage of mixed prints, and luxe fabrics communicate a more complex, multifaceted woman.  By rejecting convention, they project a sense of luxury and beauty in a way that mimics the glorification of the ancient Tibetan oracles and Chinese emperors.

Katrantzou referred to her fall collection as being created for a woman surrounded by beautiful things, and to do so she “pushed prints to the limit.”  Similarly, Dries Van Noten used a collage of patterns from different time periods to create a type of synoptic image. Dries also executed an extreme attention to detail, using bright snakeskin or shimmery gold threads to add subtle impact and definition to the large patterns.  Etro’s look most resembles the Asian pieces, with a tapestry-esque pattern printed on a conservative two-piece ensemble.

CHANEL 3-PIECE SUIT, 1964

MICHAEL KORS, YSL, & EMILIO PUCCI, FALL 2011

From the very beginning, Chanel emphasized elegance and polish on simple shapes, constructed womenswear with jersey fabric, and turned out innovative, striking designs for every day.  The women’s pantsuit was a premiere example of Chanel’s expert craftsmanship and thoughtful designs; what was once reserved for businessmen was now available to women who wanted a sleek, professional, and modern new look.  By using unexpected materials like brocade or boucle, Chanel was able to give women the “new uniform” of the ’20s while maintaining a sense of femininity.  This gold suit from 1964 displays the idea flawlessly: a fitted collarless jacket and slim pants becomes even more feminine when done in shimmering gold, silver, blue, and purple threads.  Luxurious details like braided edges and expensive fastenings also add to the elegant feel, while maintaining that sleek and unfussy look.

The fact that suits aren’t inherently feminine is perhaps what makes them so unexpectedly womanly, and we can certainly see this idea repeated in modern suits.  Women today still consider suits one of the most stylish ensembles (when done right, of course) and it’s those slight details that make all the difference.  In the drapey Kors suit, a deep V-neck, flowing jacket, and super-skinny pants lend some edge; YSL’s snug black suit features nautical buttons, puffed sleeves and cigarette style pants to enhance the female shape; and Pucci’s all-white look is both crisp and relaxed, for the fashion-forward, minimalist woman.  Suits are the original classic, and clearly they’re far from fading out.

You can see the results in use (and all of the fabulous clothes) in the Paul Textile Gallery and Fashion Arts Gallery until February 6, 2012.

What were your inspirations for the Material World typeface?

The grid-like mesh of natural elements like spider webs was an inspiration, as well as man-made things like chain-link fences. Both can feel either very clean and manufactured or organic depending on how they are viewed or manipulated.

How did you design this typeface? Did you make the whole alphabet?

Functioning typefaces are created with specialized software that allows them to be typed directly from the keyboard, and includes important  information about spacing, alternate weights, etc. Because we were only using these new letters to spell short phrases, and because of the time required to actually create a functioning font, I simply made the letters in Adobe Illustrator with the pen tool. Creating each letter isn’t difficult, but it can be time consuming, so I drew only the characters I needed for this exhibition.

Why did you design a typeface and not use one that already existed?

While thinking about what typography and imagery could be used to represent the intricate materials used in the exhibition, I did look at a number of pre-existing options. Ornate display type tends to be created to connote specific imagery—Victorianism, holidays, or the stereotypes of a foreign culture, for instance. I wanted something that felt contemporary and spoke to the physical construction of the garments, but also seemed organic as well. It didn’t take very long to realize that drawing my own letters was the most natural approach.

How does the design of Material World enhance a visit to the show?

The primary goal of any design is to enhance the content. The experience of shopping at a big-box grocery store is very different from visiting an expensive clothing retailer, and it’s not because of the objects for sale. By using dark colors and not using more light than necessary, we are trying to create a space that feels intimate and seductive when compared to other galleries. The typography, too—both in its design and its use in the show—is meant to accentuate the seductive nature of the work, as well as reference the intricate patterns and handwork evidenced in many of the pieces.

Material World, the latest exhibition in the Paul Textile and Fashion Arts Galleries, is comprised of tantalizing objects from around the world, each with its own set of installation needs. From court dresses to Imperial robes to ceremonial dance ensembles, the size and weight of the objects, vulnerability of materials, and the support needed vary from object to object. Some pieces demand heads for accompanying headdresses, while others require specific stances, or modified mounts.

Custom mount for woman’s belt.

Installed, the ring supports the belt allowing long fringe to hang freely.

In some instances, dresses slipped on mannequins with little adjustment, but in other cases the silhouette of the garment or weight and texture of the fabric prohibited the use of conventional dress forms. One example is a Chinese Palace Guard uniform worn by a sentinel in the Imperial army during the Qing Dynasty. The ensemble consists of eight pieces: an oversized coat, over-trousers split in the center covered with an embroidered panel, two shoulder ornaments made of heavy gilt bronze, and patches buttoning onto the jacket. The striking ensemble is made of heavy brocaded satin cloth with gold metallic threads enhanced by the addition of hundreds of bronze studs covering the surface of the fabric. Due to the weight of the fabric and size of the coat, the piece could not be exhibited on a mannequin in a pose with arms at the side. In addition, we had to account for the heavy epaulets on either shoulder, to ensure that each are supported without placing any strain on the fabric. Therefore, we enlisted the help of the IMA’s mount maker, Brose Partington. Brose removed the mannequin’s arms and created customized armatures that lock on.

The result is impressive. Not only does the pose alleviate strain on the fabric (had the arms been used, the sleeves would have bunched and crushed under the arms on either side) but the domineering uniform can now be viewed in its entirety.

Modified male mannequin in mount room.

On view in Material World.

Another case – a true labor of love, – was a customized mount made to scale for an Ethiopian cape and matching crown.  The cape and crown, composed predominately of lions’ skin and manes, were components of a warrior’s formal attire, most likely worn by a military or civilian official.  I liken this project to a quilt, completed in a quilting bee, where several sets of hands work on one piece. The design and pattern for the mount was created by Kathleen Kiefer; the IMA’s Senior Textile Conservator, while the ethafoam pieces were cut out, shaped and adhered by me. The padding, layered to mimic the shape of a man’s chest, was applied by Kathleen and our intern, while Paul Siebenthal (the IMA’s new mount maker) designed a base. Here is the breakdown of the process step by step.

Step 1) Pattern traced onto ethafoam sheets:

Step 2) Cutting the pieces out:

Step 3) Gluing the two forms together:

 Step 4 & 5) Padding and sculpting the torso with polyester needle punched batting:

Step 6) Lopping off the chin of a pre-made ethafoam head & shaving it down with sand paper – the chin was too pointy:

Step 7 & 8 ) Covering the torso and head with black cotton knit:

Voila! On view in Material World:

The armatures for the male mannequin will be removed after the exhibition closes (February 6, 2012) so the mannequin can be reused, while the mount created from ethafoam will be stored and used when the cape and crown are exhibited again.  To see all this handiwork in person, be sure to visit Material World soon!

Through Read My Pins I learned the former Secretary of State, Dr. Albright, communicates messages by carefully choosing what pin to wear: a turtle when she felt negotiations were moving slowly, a gold dove to symbolize a partnership for peace, the sun as a sign of hope in difficult situations. The pendants also add to her outfits. I was inspired by the idea of small accessories communicating messages and influencing outfits from day to day.

Like a pin, a printed silk scarf has the same potential to communicate a message and update suits.

After reading a post on a Pucci scarf in the collection, my interest grew in regard to other scarves housed at the IMA. While in storage, I discovered a charming Yves Saint Laurent design for The House of Dior, stumbled upon a Balenciaga scarf of tiny poly-loop bows, and peeked at gorgeous shawls from Turkey.

Right now, I am in a dream. As a student of design, it is such a privilege for me to study the construction and design of quality works up close.

Before moving from Austin to Indianapolis for this rare opportunity, I was eager to learn more about the projects I would be working on as a curatorial intern. Petra’s post “So…What exactly do you do?” prepared me for the hunt data clean-up initiates and Jessica’s post on “Building a Bird(man) House” got me excited for the hands-on construction I might be participating in with object storage.  As expected after reading these posts, my scarf search evolved into a storage maintenance project. Keeping up with the housing and organization system for objects – there are over 7,000 in the textile collection – is an ongoing responsibility. The task of re-housing the scarf entailed rolling it in Tyvek® around a supportive, archival tube. The new housing received a content identification label to prevent unnecessary handling, and then the roll was carefully threaded onto a rod across a large drawer suitable for flat textiles, like scarves.

While searching, a vibrant, branded Norell, silk twill scarf stood out to me, perhaps because I am patiently waiting for spring to stay here in Indianapolis.

Scarf, 1969 by Norman Norell (1988.298) Gift of Mrs. Max Fisher in memory of Norman Norell

Norell detail (1988.298).

After some research, I discovered American names in fashion were not valuable until the 1960s (from Woody Hochswender’s article in American Heritage Magazine). As a result of Anthony Traina’s retirement from Traina-Norell, both label and company became Norell’s in 1960. The scarf with 100 navy stars and the “Norell” name was featured on the June 1969 cover of Harper’s Bazaar, styled with a Norell outfit.

Norman Norell, a designer from Noblesville, Indiana and son of a haberdasher, was known for successfully converting French couture elements into well -made, American ready-to-wear. I would not have known from the outfit and scarf featured on the cover that Norell’s greatest fashion influence was the Twenties. He drew upon this period for sheath dresses with their straight up-and-down lines, sometimes belted but never seamed at the waist.

The costume illustration below shows the influence The Jazz Age had on his style. The straight-cut, dropped waist, shiny gold cloth and plunging neckline typify dress in the twenties. The sketch is signed “Norell” in the lower right corner.

Costume sketch (recto and verso), 1920s, Norman Norell “ivory velvet” “heavy gold cloth” “vermillion velvet” “parasol & edge of girdle” (center right) “Norell” (lower right) (1985.569A-B) graphite, watercolor, gold ink on paper, Gift of John Moore.

Norell’s inspiration reminded me of conversations I had with FAS members during a meeting in January. After touring Read My Pins, the Fashion Arts Society met in the Fountain Room for a social gathering.  As fashion enthusiasts, we shared our favorites from Dr. Albright’s collection and closed the evening with conversations concerning who will wear what to the IMA’s 3^rd annual fundraiser, Flappers and the Flaming Youth.

As a result, a new search began. This time I was looking for accessories to serve as design or style inspiration for the twenties themed event on Saturday, May 21^st. at the Oldfields – Lilly House and Gardens, which was designed in the 1920s –how appropriate!

Stole (and detail), 1925-1930, America; Europe, (76.113) cotton net with metal studs, Gift of Mrs. T.S. MacMurray.

This long, cotton net stole is a great example of 1920s design. The decade was all about opulence following the First World War. Shiny metallic materials, similar to the gold cloth suggested in the Norell sketch, were common. The geometric formation of metal pieces on this scarf is typical of the Art Deco movement.

Hat, 1920-1929, (76.315) silk with sequins and beads. Gift of Mr. and Mrs. F. Noble Ropkey.

IMA guests attending Flappers and The Flaming Youth are sure to have a roaring good time since the night will include, but not be limited to, stars and sequins. I look forward to seeing examples of frocks from the evening. But for now, I am grateful for the days I spent behind-the-scenes, sewing props in the conservation lab and attending to objects in storage, all the while getting to know designers like Norman Norell through their creations.

The Fashion Arts Society was founded in 2010 as well, with great response. The organization hosted their first fundraiser for the department, an after-party for the IMA fashion show Project IMA: Fashion Unbound titled Behind the Seams. The event went off without a hitch, and enjoyed by all who attended. FAS membership is growing steadily and the FAS calendar for 2011 will not disappoint.

In November the exhibition, Read My Pins, the Madeleine Albright Collection opened at the IMA with great success. The installation is beautiful and the catalogue accompanying the exhibition is a delight.
Dr. Albright visited the museum in early November, for a book signing and lecture, which was one of the most enjoyable experiences I’ve had to date. Dr. Albright is as witty as she is smart and I think I am not alone in saying that everyone left the Toby that evening smiling.

This year the department also acquired about 45 new acquisitions, two of which is a dress (1972) by Halston (now on view on the IMA’s 3rd floor just outside the entrance for the Fashion Arts Gallery) and a complete Rudi Gernreich Japanese schoolboy ensemble (1967).

ensemble; ‘Japanese schoolboy’, 1967 by Rudi Gernreich (2010.205a-f) Caroline Marmon Fesler Fund

All of the museum’s recent acquisitions are featured on the IMA’s dashboard. However, here are just a few.

dress, 1966 by Rudi Gernreich (2010.71) Mr. and Mrs. William B. Ansted, Jr. Art Fund

The dress is a companion piece for this coat acquired by the IMA in 2008. coat, 1966, by Rudi Gernreich (2008.199) Lucille Stewart Endowed Art Fund

In 1966, Gernreich created a line featuring animal patterns of which this tiger print dress and coat are examples.  It was a Coty Award winning line.

dress, 1986 by Zandra Lindsey Rhodes (2010.74A-B) Gift of Alfred Shands

The print for this dress, style number 86/6, named ‘Peacock godets’ was inspired by a trip Rhodes took to India.

quilt; ‘Morning Glory’, 1912 by Marie D. Webster (2010.79) Webster Collection, Gift of Katherine Webster Dwight

The IMA has several of Marie D. Webster‘s quilts and patterns in the collection already. Morning Glory was published in a 1912 issue of Ladies Home Journal and the pattern for this quilt is also housed in the IMA’s permanent collection (S7289.91a-e).

purse; ‘milk carton’, 1990s by Franco Moschino (2010.213) Textile Arts Fund

The image of the cow not only indicates the symbolic contents of the bag, “milk” but it was also one of the memorable faces used to launch Moschino‘s publicity campaigns. The purse includes an “ingredients list” promoting love, peace, fun and friendship, the “recipe” and an illustration instructing the wearer to not throw the bag away.

As 2010 draws to a close, we are preparing for the spring 2011 opening of Material World, an exhibition that will feature extravagant ornamentation of textiles and personal adornment from cultures around the world.

Here’s to another productive year!

After reading a previous blog about museum storage, we thought it would be fun to share the fine work of our Packing & Storage Department. John Ross, one of our Storage & Packing Technicians, created a beautifully-crafted housing to store the headdress of an African dancer’s costume. This costume is of the Poro Society – a society mainly found on the Western coast of Africa. The term Wenilegei means “bird man,” so I guess one could say that John contained the “bird man!”

If we had thought of this earlier, we would have taken images of John hard at work in the beginning stages developing the housing. What we do have are great images showing the final outcome! Like much of our collection resting in permanent storage, developing its housing required a number of considerations:

• What is needed to protect it from dust?
• How can we minimize light exposure?
• What type of housing will minimize unnecessary handling?
• Will this housing be understood by the next art handler?
• Overall: What do we need to best protect it?

In addition to those thoughts, our Storage and Packing Technicians also need to accommodate existing storage space, which is rather limited. Some considerations that affect the type of housing are:

• Where are similar objects housed and is there room for this to join them?
• When will it be accessed in the future?

For permanent storage, this headdress and cloak will be stored separately due to limited space in storage and having different storage requirements.

This headdress requires a customized base to accommodate the chin strap, so it is not forced to bend sharply – potentially causing it to break off over time. To do this, a raised circular shape was built for the headdress to “lock onto” while grooves were cut to create a smooth slope for the chin strap. After John took detailed dimension after dimension, he created the below archival base (nice, huh?).

John regularly uses Ethafoam and Volara, archival quality materials, to create tailored storage housings. The open cell Ethafoam functions as a stable base while the smooth, closed cell Volara is added to provide a smooth surface for the headdress to come into contact. The Ethafoam and Volara are somewhat pliable, which allowed him to create a snug fit without unintentionally abrading the surface of the headdress. This type of customized housing also prevents the headdress from shifting or moving while being handled.

Once the base was taken care of, we needed to address the dust and light exposure issue. John created a Foam core box for the Ethafoam base to slide in to. This will prevent dust from gathering on the feathers over time. The easily-opened front flap allows us to see the headdress without unnecessary handling or movement. The label also aids us by providing information without having to open the box at all.

Like many other pieces in storage, the mount for this headdress required a good deal of planning, designing and attention to detail – something our Storage & Packing staff are no strangers to. With the help of Jesse, Rob, and John, we are able to create unique housings for our wide range of collections. Thank you, John, for your hard work! We (and the “bird man”) appreciate it! To see this headdress with its cloak in person, be sure to visit the next Textile Arts exhibition, “Material World” in the Spring of 2011.

Depending on her mood, the explanation would range from “she does something with museums” to “something with textiles”. Fortunately, she has it down now. But in her defense, so much of what is involved in a curatorial position goes on behind the scenes; it is easy to understand why one might not exactly know.

Here’s a glimpse behind the curtain:

Data Clean-up: Every department is different and therefore what might be deemed as daily activity may also vary. One of the tasks I’ve taken on is updating our internal database system, Emu.

We house roughly 7,000 objects in the Textile and Fashion Arts collection and as you might guess, it is a long, but rewarding process to update all of the records. To keep us organized, Niloo Paydar, Curator of Textiles and Fashion Arts keeps about 50 or so binders in her office divided into categories based on different things such as techniques, cultures or artists.

Each time I dive into the binders, I embark on a hunt for information, kind of like a detective. Every piece in our collection is represented by a record, containing annotations and references, many of which were made at the time of acquisition or amended as the result of a visiting scholar.  These are my clues.

My course of action ranges from combing obituaries for donor information, referencing exhibition catalogues, researching publications on artists or movements, to investigating specific terms such as aralac which, by the way, is a term for a synthetic fiber made from the milk protein casein.

One collection I have been working on most recently is the American textile collection.

The American Textile Collection: The IMA has a collection of about 100 textiles designed in the United States, around the early to mid 20^th century. About 50 are textile fragments designed and manufactured by the Cheney Brothers.  The Cheney Brothers (Ward, Rush, Frank and Ralph) were one of the first successful silk manufacturers in the United States, establishing their first mill as the Mt. Nebo Silk Mills, South Manchester, Connecticut,  in 1838. The Cheney Brothers Silk Manufacturing Company went onto become a national leader in sericulture and the manufacturing of silk.

While researching the Cheney brothers, I discovered that Hazel Burnham Slaughter designed many late 1922, early 1923 Cheney Brothers textiles, as did the designer, Candice Wheeler in the early 1900s.

Please allow me to share with you some of my personal favorites:

Cheney Brothers, (14.74)

Cheney Brothers, (14.77)

Cheney Brothers, (14.81)

This might sound corny, but it really gives me a natural high to discover new-to-me tidbits about designers, their working relationships and processes. So, yeah, I guess my mom is right- I DO do something with textiles and with museums. And I enjoy every minute of it.

Stay tuned for a second post where I share some additional favorites from this collection, by artists such as Florence Kawa and Ruth Reeves.

I had the pleasure of taking a tour through the IMA’s conservation lab last week, for a chance to get a quick look at their space and see a sliver of all of the amazing things that go on down there. I am intrigued by conservation: it requires a high degree of patience, the hand skills of a surgeon and knowledge of a wide range of subjects like chemistry and art history. The lab is a huge space, 7000 sq. ft, and has separate rooms for painting, works on paper, sculpture and textiles.

The last room we toured, textile and fashion conservation, was the highlight for me. I have taken some Costume History classes, so I’ve had a minute amount of first hand experience handling the F.I.T. collection- and this was mostly for examining construction. I don’t really know anything about the steps that need to be taken for preservation or display. They mentioned Shared Beauty, an exhibition of Eastern rugs and Western beaded handbags, which had recently gone up in the Paul Textile Arts Gallery. So, I took a swing through the exhibit to see what it was all about. I was floored! I was hooked! Okay, no more rug puns.

I decided to learn a little more about Shared Beauty, and got a chance to meet with Kathleen Kiefer, the Senior Conservator of Textiles, and Jessica Barner, the textile conservation technician. Kathleen explained a little more about the work they did to get the bags and rugs ready for the show, and Jessica gave me a tour of the lab and the gallery space, showing me some specific examples of the work they did to prepare the objects for the show.

Most of these objects were in great condition, and the vast majority of their time and effort went into preparing the rugs for hanging. It’s a delicate process involving, first, the repair of any damage the rug might have sustained, like worn or loose areas, but mostly the careful stitching of Velcro (on a twill tape support backing and perfectly centered) onto the backs of the rugs. This matches up to Velcro that is affixed to the wall. The silk rugs get propped onto strainers, angled boards covered in ultra-suede, to remove some of the pull of gravity off their more delicate knots and weave. Kathleen also mentioned that they had to devise a safe way to get the upward facing fringe to lay flat against the strainers. She used gold thread, tacked at intervals, to combat gravity and invisibly keep the fringe upright.

For the bags, not much work was needed. However, laying flat with no armatures or mounts, the bags did need a little more body shape. Kathleen and Jessica (assisted by Petra Slinkard, Curatorial Assistant, Textile and Fashion Arts; Brose Partington, Mount Maker; and Susan Mefford, a Textile Lab volunteer) created custom pillows for each one out of specially selected materials. Because the bags are enclosed in cases, the most important aspect is the material in and around them. A lot of fabrics and materials like plastics will give off gases harmful to the objects nearby. The ultra-suede used for displays is chosen specifically for its chemical stability. It also comes in lots of colors!

I highly recommend this exhibit. The bags are breath-taking in their intricacy; they glitter in their cases, miniature representations of the motifs on the rugs. The rugs are grand, lush interpretations of millennia old traditions, but look so modern. I longed to touch everything- a feeling, I think, that is natural in a gallery of objects so deliciously tactile. When you visit, you can think about all the loving attention each object got in order to make it there for you!

• Shared Beauty is open on the second floor through March 8, 2009.
• Simply Halston, a sampling of women’s wear by (Hoosier!) fashion designer Roy Halston Frowick, is open in the gallery next door until January 4th, 2009.
• The word textile, from the Latin texere, to weave, technically means interwoven threads, while fabric can mean woven, knit, looped, knotted, or fused fibers.
• The oldest carpet in the world, the Pazyryk carpet from 500 B.C.E., was discovered frozen in a Siberian cave burial site in 1949.
• The rugs in this show come from 5 major areas: Iran, Turkey, Caucasus (modern day Azerbaijan, Armenia and Georgia), India, and Turkmenistan.
• The IMA began their textile collection in 1888 with the purchase of an Irish embroidery.