Why fashion still clings to the cult of genius – and who it benefits
How the myth of genius shapes careers, credit and creative power in fashion
Happy Tuesday! Fashion week! Still! Did you read our piece on the industry’s worst companies to work for (as per Glassdoor) from the other week yet? After it went on our Instagram last Tuesday we got quite the response. To quote one commenter:
“People working in Finance: are talking about great canteens and gyms in their work place ..
Fashion people: OUr TOileTs ArE CLean…”
This week we’ve been pondering how fashion increasingly borrows its mythologies and marketing strategies from the art world. With all the newly-appointed creative directors about to drop their first collections, writer Ane Cornelia Pade wrote us a little deep-dive into the history of singling out a lone single creative genius. But first, the news.
The Brit Gala
New York has many things that London lacks. Rent-controlled flats, six-figure salaries outside of finance, bars that stay open past 11, late-night taco trucks, $1 slices, and... the Met Gala... Well, guess which one of these is making its way across the Atlantic next month! The first iteration of a Met-inspired fundraising event – The British Museum Ball – will take place during Frieze, involving lots of luxury brands (likely place for them to be). “Think Met Gala ambition with UK uniqueness,” said Helen Brocklebank, the chief executive of Walpole, a body that represents Burberry, Fortnum, Harrods, and things of that sort. According to The Times, invitations have already been sent out “to the world’s well-heeled elites”, so if you didn’t receive yours by now, guess you’ll just have to sit and wait for the flood of content to hit your feed on the 18th of October instead. In times of crisis, we’ll always have events for the 1% and brand activations <3 and in the world’s most actively disliked museum, no less!
50 years of fast fashion
This autumn, Spanish fast fashion giant Zara are celebrating their 50th birthday. Our first thoughts on this were something to the effect of Melania Trump’s £29 parka, “I really don’t care, do u?”. Our second thoughts were, ok damn, turns out u do? Because, to mark this non-event, the labour-exploiting mega-polluter is releasing 50 items, each ‘designed’ – in the loosest sense, we assume – by a different person of note. And we mean people of note. Annie Leibovitz, Axel Vervoordt, Es Devlin, Guido Palau, Kate Moss, Luca Guadagnino, Naomi Campbell, Paolo Roversi, Pat McGrath, Pedro Almodóvar, Pier Paolo Piccioli, Rosalía, Steven Meisel, Tim Walker… we could go on. “As for how Zara was able to get all these industry stalwarts to participate in the project?” Vogue asks, “It was an easy answer for most. As supermodel Linda Evangelista put it… ‘Oh, my God, the list of the 50. And I made the cut. What an honor’.” Does anyone say no to a check these days?
Copenhagen greenwashing victory
Earlier this year, the Danish Consumer Council filed a complaint against Copenhagen Fashion Week, claiming, among other things, that it engaged in greenwashing. But last week, the Consumer Ombudsman investigating the case announced that no basis exists for pursuing the case. Cecilie Thorsmark, CEO of CPHFW, welcomed the outcome. We’re big fans of the smaller, more conscientious fashion week at 1 Granary, and will be publishing candid lessons we learnt from an industry roundtable last time we were there later this week.
Job and work opportunities
If you’re a music fan based in London who loves to produce content at a senior level then we have spotted the perfect job for you. NTS are hiring a full-time, 12-month-contracted Senior Content Producer. More info here
Feeling lost and in search of a mentor in the fashion industry? The next round of Mentoring Matters is open until 17 October for mentee applications. Fill out the form here
Designer Rene Scheibenbauer is looking for a studio intern with sewing and pattern-cutting skills in London. Send your CV and portfolio to info@renescheibenbauer.net
By Ane Cornelia Pade
Jonathan Anderson was appointed all-mighty creative director of Dior in April; in a consolidation of power the house has not seen since the days of Christian Dior himself.
Since founding JW Anderson in 2008, Anderson has become a cult figure, with a devoted following and a reputation for pushing boundaries. Like Alessandro Michele, Hedi Slimane, and Phoebe Philo, Anderson is part of a rarefied circle of creative directors who, in recent years, have come to shape not just heritage brands but the direction of fashion. Hailed as a visionary, an icon, and the designer of a generation, there appears to be no limit to what Anderson can achieve. No wonder the word genius tends to follow him around (Donatella Versace already proclaimed it back in 2013). However, despite his many talents, there is good reason to be sceptical of the fashion world’s commercial worship at the altar of genius.
Fashion increasingly borrows its mythologies and marketing strategies from the art world, and the concept of genius is no exception. By doing so, it risks inheriting its problems, and particularly those of the art market. Although statements such as iconic, timeless, and masterpiece appear set in stone, ideas of creativity and creative genius have never been static. Instead, they are cultural notions rich with history, which helps to portray today’s creative directors less as brand custodians and more akin to the old Renaissance masters. Examining the history of Western art’s fascination with genius, we see how old, and often outdated, ideas continue to shape our world today.
From anonymous artisan to creative genius
In antiquity, artists were not believed to possess genius in and of themselves. Rather, they were vessels for divine inspiration. For much of Western history, the individuals we now call artists worked as anonymous artisans, whose work remained unsigned. Artisanal skill, achieved through apprenticeship and regulated by the guild (the historic forerunner of today’s trade unions), formed the core of their profession.
The idea of the artist as a unique genius figure began to emerge during the Italian Renaissance. Giorgio Vasari, the founding father of Western art history, canonised Raphael and Michelangelo in his Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects (1550), elevating them well beyond the anonymous ranks of craftsmen and lesser artists of the era to a quasi-divine realm. As creative geniuses, their ability to create formed an earthly parallel to the powers of the Christian God, who had created heaven and earth. Genius, from its Renaissance origin, was imbued with an aura of transcendence; the afterglow of which has endured to this day.
As many have noted, the recent game of musical chairs among fashion’s creative directors has been dominated by men: Demna Gvasalia to Gucci, Pierpaolo Piccioli to Balenciaga, Glenn Martens to Maison Margiela, Michael Rider to Celine, Matthieu Blazy to Chanel, and so on. The industry continues to favour men to helm its most revered houses. Seen from a historical perspective, this is hardly surprising. From its Renaissance origins, genius has been overwhelmingly male, modelled on the Christian patriarchal creator.
In reality, Renaissance masters such as Raphael and Michelangelo did not work alone. The genius did not have the time to paint every fig leaf and finger. Instead, this work was routinely delegated to the studio. The studio artists, whose skill, labour, and creativity were subsumed under the name of the artist-genius, have, for the most part, remained anonymous. This form of anonymised creative collaboration bears a striking resemblance to the world of contemporary fashion. Though Anderson will soon be the sole creative director of Dior, he will not work alone. Hundreds of designers, artisans, and assistants will contribute their ideas, skills, and labour. Like the studio artists of the past, they will remain largely anonymous, subsumed into the myth of Anderson’s singular genius. While creative directors ascend to fame and fortune, those working under them often struggle to make ends meet, even at the most prestigious labels.
The Romantics and The Dark Side of Creativity