Schiaparelli: the rebel surrealist still stuns at the v&a
Elsa Schiaparelli was never one for the expected. And the Victoria & Albert Museum’s new exhibition, Schiaparelli: Fashion Becomes Art, makes that abundantly clear. Forget the demure silhouettes and predictable elegance of her contemporaries; Schiaparelli, bolstered by a remarkable show curated by Sonnet Stanfill, presented a world of playful provocation, surrealist whimsy, and a modernity that continues to resonate today. The exhibition isn’t merely a retrospective; it’s a revelation.
A salon recreated, a vision revealed
The experience begins with a striking recreation of Schiaparelli’s 21 Place Vendôme salon. Newspaper clippings from 1935, showcasing her groundbreaking designs, adorn the walls, a testament to her relentless innovation. A trio of hand-knitted sweaters by Armenian women, featuring trompe l’oeil scarves, instantly evoke the designer’s early triumphs and her knack for subverting expectations. It’s a masterfully designed space, unfolding like a series of carefully orchestrated reveals, guiding the viewer through a dazzling array of jackets, hats, perfumes, and, of course, dresses.
But the true showstopper—and a piece that many thought we’d never see displayed again—is a black jersey sheath dress, conceived for actress Ruth Ford. This isn’t just a dress; it’s an architectural marvel. The arms and neck are encased, then dramatically padded with sculpted bone formations, a direct echo of sketches by her friend, Salvador Dalí. Dalí’s handwritten note, “Dear Elsa, I like this idea of ‘bones on the outside’ enormously,” underscores the collaborative spirit that fueled some of Schiaparelli’s most iconic creations. To see the back of the dress, padded with the same skeletal forms, is a moment of pure visual delight. Andrew Bolton, curator of the Metropolitan Museum’s Schiaparelli and Prada: Impossible Conversations, desperately sought this piece, but its fragility prevented its travel. Its presence here feels both precious and fleeting.
Dalí, james, and a whirlwind of inspiration
Ruth Ford, a striking figure herself—a sister to surrealist writer Charles Henri Ford—became a muse, procuring numerous pieces for her own wardrobe thanks to the generous patronage of Edward James, the collector of Surrealist art and her lover. The “Tears” dress, with its ripped fabric mimicking falling tears, and the Lobster dress of 1937 (the lobster itself a painted masterpiece by silk designer Paul Sache), are testaments to this fertile collaboration. Even Wallis Simpson, the Duchess of Windsor, famously donned the Lobster dress, captured by Cecil Beaton in a photograph that, while attempting to romanticize her, ultimately reveals her “hard and brittle” allure—the quintessential Schiaparelli client.
The exhibition doesn't shy away from the eccentricity of Schiaparelli's vision. Edward James’s influence extends to his mother, represented by a Shocking Pink fitted jacket woven with prancing circus horses and ostrich plumes, paired with a plum brown dress that can be transformed into an exotic trouser suit. A jacket adorned with tumbling sequins and mirrors, resembling a performer at the circus, exemplifies the Lesage embroidery that elevated Schiaparelli’s designs to an art form. The sheer volume of exquisitely detailed jackets—from those reminiscent of 18th-century waistcoats to a 1947 black jacket exploding with Shocking Pink taffeta—is breathtaking.
Picasso, hats, and a legacy reclaimed
Beyond the garments, the exhibition celebrates Schiaparelli’s broader artistic circle. A stunning oil portrait by Pablo Picasso of Nusch Éluard, showcasing a Schiaparelli jacket with distinctive lapel details and buttons, deserves particular recognition. For years, curators worldwide have dismissed similar portraits, failing to identify Schiaparelli’s influence. Finally, her contribution is acknowledged, a long-overdue recognition of her impact on the art world. An aviary of extraordinarily designed hats, including the iconic black “shoe” hat with a Shocking Pink heel, clamored for by Gala Dalí and Helena Rubinstein, further underscores her avant-garde sensibility.
The exhibition concludes with a trio of masterpieces: a black wool coat embellished with gold thread roses and crushed buttons, an asymmetrically draped brown dress with an emerald green ribbon, and a coq feather cape—a riot of color and texture that leaves a lasting impression. It's not merely an exhibition to view; it’s an experience to be devoured.