My early encounter with Japanese garments was while flipping through vivid Sailor Moon art books, generously brought by my father from abroad. Tall, slim girls appeared in long robe-like dresses, with oversized sleeves and lavish ornaments particularly capturing my attention: pale pink sakura flowers on striking ultramarine fabric, or calla lilies on sumptuous moss green satin. Wide obi belts both highlighted the wearer’s waist, while also appearing as a strict corset of a warrior woman, tightly secured as a belt one wears on an aeroplane, lending it a utilitarian function. Thus, this particular exhibition proved a special treat for me.
However, another and one of the many reasons to attend the spectacular touring exhibition Kimono: Kyoto to Catwalk is because has been capturing the imagination of audiences from Northern and Western Europe over the past four years, touring Switzerland, Sweden, Paris, London and finally, Dundee. This final venue renders it particularly special as has been designed by the V&A building’s Japanese architect too, Kengo Kuma (and in a poetic sense, acts as its coda, too).
According to the V&A Dundee curator, Kirsty Hassard, the museum worked closely with the designers of two London-based studios, namely PLAID Studio for overall exhibition design (Lauren Scully and Brian Studak), and Mentsen Studio for the graphic component. Hassard elaborates that eighty per cent of the structural objects in the Kimono exhibit consists of material recycled, incidentally, from their previous blockbuster show Tartan, reflecting the sustainable nature of the Japanese garment – a point that the curators of the show have aimed to make.
Apart from the ecologically-positive impact of the kimono, the designer Risa Sano (Mentsen Studio), who focused on the graphic component for the exhibition, aimed to flesh-out the materiality of the attire through graphic displays, by showcasing the assembly of the kimono and allowing the viewer to appreciate the structural complexity and fluidity of the iconic garment. Hassard comments that all elements of the show came into ‘perfect alignment’.
As one enters the exhibition space, a sense of quiet sets in: you are entering a calm and reverent space that invites you to slow down and appreciate the craftsmanship before your eyes. The entire display is a homage to a traditional Japanese way of building, composed entirely of blonde wooden stands, wafer-thin rice paper screens (shoji) and dim lighting, right out of Jun’ichir? Tanizaki’s In Praise of Shadows; the exhibits appear as if floating mid-air; perhaps it’s the low-voltage lighting, or light-coloured props that lend them such ‘hovering’ effect. The atmosphere is such that one almost wants to lie down on a tatami mat and observe the environment, typically encountered in places like UNESCO-protected Kyoto, that go to great lengths to preserve traditional, craft-oriented architecture. In fact, all of the digital installations are limited to a bare minimum, with only informational and interactive displays featuring a video of kimono assembly and another one that invites you to construct your own bespoke Japanese garment.
The Kimono was originally called kosode or ‘small sleeves’ and it is interesting that this specific part of the gown has its origin story. Considering how it played into Japanese poetry and kimono sleeves used convey an image of amorous feelings through tears on kimono sleeves. The romantic aspect is translated through various designs, such as the one beneath boasting pine tree needles and red and white flowers creating a wonderful backdrop of a Japanese landscape. It could be argued that kimonos serve as canvases, depicting dramatic and poignant landscapes, evoking the sense of the sublime – whether with what appears almost willow-green pine needle branches stretching out across a kimono intermingled with ruby red maple leaves, or an aubergine-coloured denoting a journey through a landscape interspersed with white flower trees, each kimono is rendered with reverence and grace, lending its wearer or owner the same qualities.
Kimonos are deeply integrated within Japanese culture, and part and parcel of various ceremonies. Prints were instrumental in articulating the kimono’s prominent role in Japan’s cultural context: as the curator Anna Jackson says, it acted to proliferate ‘information, inspiration and fashion’. Prints would also show the social aspects and occasions how the kimono would be utilised within its cultural context. Utagawa Kuniyoshi’s The Wedding Alteration Ceremony print gives an account of a pre-wedding ritual ironashi or ‘colour alteration’ ceremony. This entails a change of dress – from a pristine white gown in which the bride will be betrothed to her spouse, to a lavishly-colourful one (often more than one) for the banquet, marking a passage into marriage.
In addition, printed pattern books, called hinagata-bon, were part and parcel of designing and provided guidelines to which styles of ornament are à la mode; both creators of the kimonos and their sellers would flip through the books as if they were fashion magazines. Thus, prints are aptly juxtaposed with kimonos in the exhibit, expanding the viewer’s appreciation of their uses in the cultural context, as well as everyday life in Japan.
One of my favourite pieces is the katabira — a summer kimono worn by Samurai women. Its translucent ramie or linen-like fabric (eggshell with a lilac or pale pink sheen) flows quite rigidly, appearing reticent; however it glides seamlessly onto the floor, giving way to wonderful folds. The fabric is meant to complement the humid Japanese climate, and its decoration begins below the waist, as the lines or threads describing a zig-zag pathway gradually begin to appear. The only decoration above the waist is the crests (mon) of one of the prominent families that ruled in Japan – Tokugawa.
Apart from gowns, the curators went to great lengths to secure such items as combs and hair accessories (tortoiseshell was particularly in demand), as well as the more elusive male kimono.
The male kimono is rarer than a female one that at first glance might appear lacklustre compared to its opulent female counterpart, yet upon closer inspection features the utility valued among Samurais – resilient fabric and structural integrity. The curators represented kimonos of both sexes well: one can fully appreciate the difference of ornament and general composition between the two.
However, the male gowns were not entirely devoid of ornament and decoration. At the beginning of twentieth century or the Meiji period (a return to the imperial rule from the military, and onset of modernisation in Japan); male kimonos began featuring images or ‘postcards’ of historic events, such as the inauguration of Shimbashi station, the terminus of Japan’s first railway, the commemoration of transfer of the imperial capital (Heian-ky?, or modern-day Kyoto) to Tokyo. However, the most striking ones featured images of Japanese aeroplanes and warring battleships that have the distinctive temple-style structures on their hulls.
The ultimate room resembles more of a showroom where one would instantly be drawn to try something on. It also features posters by such well-known artists as Björk, David Bowie and George Lucas (creator of Star Wars), underscoring the ubiquity of the kimono in modern-day pop culture.
However, it also marks the kimono’s transformation through time and shows how much ‘Kimono 2.0’ came into its own in the new era by shedding the rituals and conventions of past centuries. Moreover, it shows that the kimono is essentially what it used to be referred to: ‘the thing to wear’, characterised by creativity and fluidity.
The aim of the exhibition was to showcase the kimono’s journey through history from the traditional Japanese garment, to its becoming a cult item of sartorial design for fashion designers and winning the hearts and minds of the public across the globe. At the same time, it shows how modern and creatively fluid the item can be – from a funky mantle-robe mixed with sportswear in Milligan Beaumont’s interpretation, to a chic and provocative lingerie ensemble by John Galliano.
It is clear that the kimono is here to stay. While the topic of fashion design might be a ‘crowd-pleaser’, as Hassard suggests, it takes quite a lot of effort to present such an iconic and popular sartorial element of fashion’s history as the kimono in a new light, while remaining reverent and showcasing its traditional aspect in full glory; to marry the traditional and foundational history of kimono garment with its striking and resplendent contemporary, is quite a feat. Moreover, it shows how the female kimono outgrew its conservative confines of womanhood and matrimony and embraced its independence and freedom.
With thanks to Anna Shevetovska for this review.
