ABCDE Arts&Style sunday, july 18, 2010
FASHION Charged with
excess Former Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich’s “smoking gun”: a six-figure fashion bill. E4
BLOGS AND CHATS
washingtonpost.com/style Philip Kennicott The best site for a Latino museum may not be on the Mall at all. E3 Interview Former lawyer Richard North Patterson says he now has the “greatest job”: novelist. E9
Ask Amy, E10 Celebrations, E9 Cul de Sac, E10 Movie Guide, E7 Horoscope, E10 Lively Arts Guide, E4 ON LOVE
Hair, there and everywhere Samantha Lewis and Shawn Wright have a real rock-and-roll wedding. E8
Lucienne Day and the fabric
of foresight Textile Museum show displays abstract genius in artist’s material
by Blake Gopnik In the late 1950s, the great French art-
ist Yves Klein came up with a radical, pie-in-the-sky idea: How about an ab- stract painting without shape or size that could take over any space it was in? It was the kind of pure, improbably con- ceptual work that won him interna- tional fame. (And the fabulous show now at the Smithsonian’s Hirshhorn Museum.)
One thing: Another artist — an entire
art form, in fact — had got there before him. In 1951, on the far side of the Eng- lish Channel, a 34-year-old named Lu- cienne Day had come up with a fabulous abstract picture that could be the size of a dish towel or stretch out to cover the wall of a mansion. Her abstract art could sprawl across every object in a room, from furnishings to windows to archi- tecture — even to the bodies standing by them. It was an abstraction that knew no limits. It was also textile art — and woman’s work, which means it could never get, and still barely receives, the attention it deserves. Klein, working as a painter, properly gets kudos for grandly imagin- ing that his trademark blue pigment could encompass the entire world, but textile artists had always imagined their work spreading out that way. The only problem is that we’ve taken this for granted. Looking at Day’s fabric abstrac- tions in light of the painted ones from her own time — seeing her, that is, as Klein-before-Klein — gives us a better sense of the true power of her art, and her art form. A show at the Textile Museum, titled
“Art by the Yard: Women Design Mid- Century Britain,” helps us get there.
day continued on E2 E AX FN FS LF PW DC BD PG AA FD HO MN MS SM
Nearing 80, Paul Taylor is still as moving a figure in dance as ever
SMOKE & NO MIRRORS
by Sarah Kaufman in new york
W
e’re here to see Paul Taylor, the cleareyed and trenchant maker of dances and revered elder states- man of his art form. On Tuesday, his company unveils a world pre- miere at Wolf Trap. But the inter-
view must wait: Our visit begins with a tour of the Paul Taylor Dance Company’s sprawling new head- quarters on the Lower East Side, where we’re trudg- ing around behind a man in a pinstripe suit and tie. He’s John Tomlinson, the troupe’s executive direc- tor, and he wants to show off the business side. He pulls open coat closets, points out the archival
storage, the fundraising files, the computer server, even the bathrooms. Ooh, we say. Yawn, we think. Then Tomlinson opens the door to one of the stu- dios, where — whoops — two dancers are necking. Awkward! And lovely. Boy, does this derail the ex-
ecutive’s controlled presentation. Yet stumbling upon the unexpected tryst is like being inside a Tay- lor dance. Taylor’s greatest works put the primal forces —
fear, joy, procreation — on a pedestal. But you never see them coming. He lulls you with common hu- man movement swirled into exquisite patterns, en- trances you with reassuring displays of form and or-
REFLECTING: At top, Taylor rehearses
dancers at his company’s new headquarters. The studio has no mirrors, long a Taylor custom.
PHOTOS BY HELAYNE SEIDMAN FOR THE WASHINGTON POST
der, and then oh! A flash of love. Sex. Life. The door flies open on the human heart. The Taylor operation is inordinately successful.
The primary company of 16 dancers has lasted 56 years, a feat few single-choreographer troupes could hope to match. There’s also Taylor 2, a smaller group that travels to informal venues. Ballet compa- nies around the world, as well as modern-dance repertory troupes, want Taylor’s works. The Taylor brand has long been established as the Cadillac of dance. What’s interesting is that all the wit and freshness at its core, the passion, poignancy and flashes of naughtiness, are the product of an essen- tially unchanged, old-school artist. We’re finally face-to-face with him, in some retro dimension. It’s about 1955 in Taylor’s little nook. Your run-of-the-mill office cubicle is more spacious. But Taylor, who will turn 80 on July 29, looks at home here, sunken into a chair at a narrow desk, puffing away on a discount cigarette. Gray-haired and sporting oversize glasses, he’s in Eisenhower- era weekend attire: tan slacks, sturdy shoes and a blue work shirt, well worn. It’s a shirt with charac- ter: A pack of cigarettes and a lighter crowd the chest pocket, and on the back,Taylor embroidered a picture of his first dog, Deedee (“damn dog”). He had been reading a crumbling paperback of “Great American Short Stories”; now he pushes
taylor continued on E5
Among the works by Lucienne Day at the Textile Museum’s “Art by the Yard” exhibit: “Calyx” (1951);
“Causeway” (1967); and “Apollo,” late 1950s. All were
manufactured by Heal Fabrics of Great Britain.
COURTESY OF JILL A. WILTSE AND H. KIRK BROWN III COLLECTION OF BRITISH TEXTILES
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