#nidoblog

[nidothings]

How I feel when adults say “YoU nEeD tO mEmOrIzE yOuR sOcIaL sEcUrItY nUmBeR tO pRoVe YoUr IdEnTiTy” when literally zero people mentioned this (or even what an SSN is exactly) in elementary, middle, and high school:

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Why can’t I have my ice-cream cone in my back-pocket?

Who wouldn't want to make love to an automobile? Who wouldn't be angry if (s)he was stopped from licking the head of a toad? Wouldn't it be crazy to be told by the police to carry your coins in your pockets, instead of your ears? Who wouldn't be driven mad if (s)he had to pay a fine for spitting on a seagull? And I mean.. who wouldn't feel offended for being prosecuted for carrying their violin in a paper bag? But is the punishment of the action or the action per se that is mostly weird?

This kind of questioning may sound paranoid. What is most paranoid though, is that what was just mentioned, among other statements of similar oddity, constitutes actual incentives of the American penal code. Olivia Locher, the 27 year-old sarcastic-conceptual photographer initiated some research on unusual laws and bizarre regulations across all 50 states of America. Without necessarily distinguishing between fact and myth, due to the ambiguity which is nevertheless embedded into the particular (leftovers of earlier times’) need to regulate and constrain offensive action, Locher brought together her Warholian Pop Art aesthetics and her Jodorowskian-inspired fictitious story telling, to pictorially enact these odd laws. 

After going through law books, tracking the archaic background of fantastical rumours and cross-examining her various sources, Locher investigated laws like: In Kansas it is illegal to serve wine in teacups, In Nevada it is illegal to put an American flag on a bar of soap, In Texas it is illegal for children to have unusual haircuts, In South Dakota it is illegal to cause static, In Washington it is illegal to paint polka dots on the American flag, In Oregon it is illegal to test your physical endurance while driving a car on the highway, In Maine it is Unlawful to tickle women under the chin with a feather duster. Although all the laws she tracked down might now be outdated and so detached from the needs that justify their emergence (if these can ever be justified) and despite the fact that these are, most of the times, even hard to be enforced in the current context, still some of them are registered in the law books. That does not necessarily bear direct consequences for the rights of the people who might find themselves committed into activities addressed by the odd laws, but it signals quite an arbitrary yet delightfully outlandish character of the legal system -even if that is only in a discursive plan-. 

What followed Olivia Locher’s investigation of the twists and transformations of the particular laws and her research on which of them are factual or fictional -yet actualised and reaffirmed by the widespread paranoia-, is her project called “I Fought the Law”. That includes 50 (on of each American state) pictorial enactments of the addressed prohibitions, through her blithe, candy-coloured photographic style. Her cutting-edge irony, her whimsical framing and the cheery  insanity that characterises her series, may not only count as a critical commentary on the American penal system but it may even be considered as an iconic tale, aiming to bring attention to the blurred line between actual and believed truths.

The 10 pictures that are presented, are named according to order as following:

In Alabama it is illegal to have an ice-cream cone in your back pocket In Ohio it is illegal to disrobe in front of a man’s portrait In Pennsylvania it is illegal to tie a dollar bill to a string and pull it away when someone tries to pick it up In California it is illegal to ride a bicycle in a swimming pool In Michigan it is illegal to paint sparrows to sell them as parakeets In Missouri it is illegal to deface a milk carton In Delaware it is illegal to serve perfume as liquor In Kentucky it is illegal to paint your lawn red In Hawaii it is illegal to place coins in your ear In Florida it is illegal to appear in public clothed in liquid latex

All pictures are taken from Olivia Locher’s book “I Fought the Law”. No right infringement intended.

Written and curated by Marianna Serveta

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Silence A Silent-Screen Overview: Part 2.

Completing this journey across the period when the images were strong and meaningful enough to leave no space for the need of auditory input, the overview will start from 1916 and will continue up to 1929, although the last pieces that are mentioned regard 1936. Following the highlights of the years mentioned and gradually observing the replacement of the purity in emotion with the exaggeration in its portrayal, the swan song of the cinematographic naivety will be discreetly mentioned as well.

1916: D.W. Griffith’s second large scale production after “the Birth of a Nation”, is “Intolerance” with the out-of-space Lillian Gish and the rare persona of Douglas Fairbanks, which undoubtedly made 1916 an essential cinematographic year. What contributed to this, is the ongoing success of Mary Pickford, whose pictures were even distributed by the Artcraft Picture Corporation. Moreover, it is now that Charles Chaplin is considered the highest priced film star in the industry, after having signed with the Mutual Film Corporation. “Sherlock Holmes” with William Gillette is signed by Essanay this year, Norma Talmadge stars in “Going Straight” and Triangle releases the Fine art production of the Shakespearean “Macbeth”.

1917: Important contributions to the history of the silent screen were made in 1917, including the first all-colour feature film “A Tale of Two Nations” and the Williamson Brothers’ “The Submarine Eye”  due to its underwater scenes. The charismatic director and storyteller Herbert Brenon made his exceptional “The Fall of the Romanoffs” this year and the Mack Sennett “Keystone Comedies” were released, including the “Bathing Beauties” as a means to cheer up the World War soldiers. Despite the cinematographic quality of the following films, what is also a contribution of this year, is the alluring costume creation, all evident on Theda Bara, throughout all her performances, as for instance in “Cleopatra”, “Camille”, “Du Barry”, “Cigarette”, as well as on Valeska Surratt and Virginia Pearson. Although the serial days were almost over, the “Seven Deadly Sins”, “Patria” with the astonishing Irene Castle and the “Mystery Ship” were created this year.

1918-1919: The war was gradually having greater influence on the film production. 1918 may be called the year of Propaganda, which is obvious through “Lafayette, We Come”, “To Hell with the Kaiser”, “The Beast of Berlin”, even Griffith’s “Hearts of the World”. What basically relates these two years when it comes to the practical matters of film production, is the combination of firstly the downturn that important colosseums of production were taking (like Vitagraph and Pathe) and secondly, the meaningful handling of Adolph Zukor. Zukor, whose philosophy was that important actors should reinforce through their fame the success of the film, did his best to keep in the game the corporations he participated into. During that, important movies were released like “Les Miserables” with William Farnum, “The Danger Game”, “Captain Kidd Junior”, “The Sheriff’s Son”. Moreover, essential Griffith creations were “The Girl Who Stayed at Home” and the unforgettable “Broken Blossoms” where Lillian Gish, an abused by her father daughter, is taken care by a Chinese immigrant, (the unbelievably expressive and eloquent Richard Barthelmess) something which ended up having even worse social effects on her. Many actors were given contracts from the newly established corporations, among them was the talented Nazimova (who stars in “The Red Latern”, “Out of the Fog” and “The Brat” this year), Gloria Swanson (staring in “For Better for Worse”, “Male and Female”) who were to considerably affect the world scenes.

1920-1921: The United Artists Corporation was now created, by the four most important names in the pictures: Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, D.W. Griffith and Charles Chaplin. Another highlight of the year, was the random discovery of Jackie Coogan by Chaplin, who played “The Kid” and became a star immediately. 1920 may be called the year of the great talent discoveries, because apart from Coogan, the actress Pola Negri and the director Ernst Lubitsch were bought into attention after Griffith’s “Way Down East” and “Passion”. Similarly, an outstanding talent discovery of the next year is that of Rudolph Valentino who gets the full attention of the audiences through his performance in “The Four Horsemen of Apocalypse”, “The Conquering Power” and “the Sheik”. Two radically different productions of 1921 that worth mentioning, are the ultra sensual “Camille” with Nazimova and Valentino and the purely naive “Coincidence” with June Walker and Robert Harron. Other than that, after the success of “Passion”, there were plenty German productions that managed to hit the box office, among them my personal favourites are “The Cabinet of Dr.Caligari” and “Deception”.

1922: If it can be stated that there has been a year where experiments took place before the silent screen, then 1922 is undoubtedly that. The charismatic Mexican dancer Ramon Samanyagos who changed his name to Ramon Navarro, performed outstandingly for “The Prisoner of Zenda” and Robert J. Flaherty’s “Nanook of the North” is categorised among the very first documentaries of all times. That indicates how even history can be narrated by the simplicity yet mastery of the bodily movement. Moreover, Nazimova’s “Salome” whose sets were based on the drawings of Beardsley can be evaluated as an artistic orgasm, although it was not a box-office success. Since theatricality was boosted even further through Salome, Marion Davies continued to create her extravagant elaborate costume pictures and D.W. Griffith did a remake of the “Two Orphans” as “Orphans of the Storm” which was even more expressive and complete than before, and where Lillian and Dorothy Gish’s stills can be easily mixed up with black and white paintings.

1923: Greta Gustafsson or Greta Garbo: The name that was to shake and reshape the film history, firstly appeared this year, and this is probably enough to mention. Her performance in “The Atonement of Gösta Berling” was followed the same year by “The Hunchback of Notre Dam”, where it is made clear that the weird make-ups and genres are what fit her fine. Other than that, the heartrending Pola Negri, after her feature in “Bella Donna” justifiably becomes the only honest rival of Gloria Swanson. Despite the wide film production of the year, what may count as an essential contribution to the film evolution, is Fritz Lang’s “Siegfried”, due to its flawless photography which although inspired and was referred to in movies some decades later, had a direct effect on Chaplin’s “A Woman of Paris”, in the same year.

1924-1925: The public demand for big pictures made only the large-scale efforts of these two years to be appreciated by the audience. This indicated that it was all about the survival of the “bigger”. On 1924 such syllogism is proven right through the success of Fairbanks’ “The Thief of Bagdad”, Pickford’s “Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall”, Davies’ “Yolanda” and “Janice Meredith”, Griffith’s “America” and First National’s “The Sea Hawk”. Similarly, on 1925 it was basically “The Phantom of the Opera” with the brilliant oddity of Lon Chaney, Chaplin’s “The Gold Rush”, “Stella Dallas” and the astonishing “Last Laugh” by F.W. Murnau which is considered as the most complete and perfect film ever made, as it didn't even have descriptive subtitles.

1926 and the gradual death of silence: The beginning of the end of the silent screen was signalled by the creation of the Vitaphone, bought by the Warner Brothers, to reproduce sound after being synchronised with the film projector. The first trial of the Vitaphone was through “Don Juan” with Barrymore, followed by the “Jazz Singer” with Al Jolson the year after. Apart from that, with the colour process called technicolour Fairbanks created his film “The Black Pirate”, slowly bringing about another indicator of the end of the silent screen as it was known. “Ben Hur” and “Variety” were the aesthetically highlights of this year, together with the sealed stardom of Gary Cooper and Greta Garbo.

1927-1929: During 1927 and probably due to the increasing technical support, the standards of success were reshaped. Yet, a reminder of the straightforward mastery of the silent screen is “It” with Clara Bow, when “It” became synonymous with sex appeal and for a short time the constructed needs for technical evolution, were forgotten. Step by step, the “talkies” came to replace the silent pieces: dialogues were more often added and musical backgrounds were more and more synchronised to the motion. “Abie’s Irish Rose” was a “part-talkie” movie, followed by “Our Modern Maidens”, “The Kiss”, even “Wild Orchids”. Silent screen actors started taking voice lessons and by the end of 1929 the majority of the theatres and production companies were “wired for sound”. The farewell to the art through which everything was fully expressed even without the help of words, were given by Charles Chaplin through his “City Lights” and “Modern Times”, as the last silent but dignified cry for the simplicity of communication.

This overview was not to glorify the characteristics of the film-period mentioned, as if those could apply to the needs of the present. Instead, by observing the gradual evolution of the cinematographic genres, the themes that were more common, and the standards that were set through the specific types of performance, it was made clear that, back then, when the technical means of impression-making were lacking, the strength that the actual feeling was having, stripped down to its simplest form and expressed by the abilities of the body, was what really mattered. It is probably a massive collection of films to watch, but in case any of the readers decides to give some a try, then the question that can be thought over is: If the technical means that are now used for the impression- and atmosphere making, affect the complexity of the feeling portrayed, what is sacrificed so that for that feeling to still seem the same?

By Marianna Serveta Photos taken from the British Film Institute Gallery, no rights infringement intended.

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Spirits of Aeriform

I lost myself on a cool damp night I gave myself in that misty light Was hypnotised by a strange delight Under a lilac tree

I made wine from the lilac tree Put my heart in its recipe It makes me see what I want to see And be what I want to be

When I think more than I want to think I do things I never should do I drink much more that I ought to drink Because it brings me back you

Lilac wine is sweet and heady, like my love Lilac wine, I feel unsteady, like my love Listen to me, I cannot see clearly Isn't that she, coming to me nearly here?

Lilac wine is sweet and heady where's my love? Lilac wine, I feel unsteady, where's my love? Listen to me, why is everything so hazy? Isn't that she, or am I just going crazy, dear?

Lilac wine, I feel unready for my love Feel unready for my love

James H. Shelton, the lyricist of “Lilac Wine|, this spellbinding love- and grief prayer, goes back to 1925, referring to the author Ronald Firbank and the French fin-de-siècle style in his “Sorrow in Sunlight” storyline. Although many artists have included this song in their covers, among them Eartha Kitt and Elkie Brooks, even contemporary ones like John Legend and the Cinematic Orchestra, the two covers that are beyond comparison are those of Nina Simone and Jeff Buckley. This is because apart from the spiritual restlessness, what also characterises airiness is that it signifies delusion, insignificance, even madness. And that can be detected in the superficially similar, yet radically different way Simone and Buckley emotionally -and vocally- embraced the struggle of self-imposed oblivion, the reality which hides behind the lyrics’ meaning. 

What Jeff Buckley succeeded, due to his rock ’n roll-soaked, sorrow-sentenced, anarchy-structured voice attributes, was to find a form which accommodated the mess included in the struggle for resisting memories. Although trying not to be biased by his lifestyle specialties which are displayed in his musical violence, -typical example of which, is the mysticism which characterises his striking single “Tongue”-, when it comes to Lilac Wine, he seems to stress more the parts that indicate delusion and hallucinating detachment. That refers to his tension when mentioning the atmospheric misty light of detachment from reality, the hypnotic delight of selective memory and the aggressive practices which compel the body to the spirit of relieflessness. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5PC68rEfF-o And then, Nina Simone. With her hoarse, gloomy, rasping voice, which bears all the meaning of the song in the very tremble of her pitch. With her violently mournful yearning in the lyric “Where’s my love?”. With the “black-classic music” features rousingly emphasising the vocal acrobatics of the lyric “Listen to me, I cannot see clearly”. With the existential dimension of the meaning which is merely focused, due to her mastery in letting emotion dictate what the arrangement should be. With the notorious aeriform of her vocal attributes that, as felicitously illustrated by Daphne Brooks in her book “Grace”: “would go belly deep or off key because the melody can’t carry all of her feeling. Her voice vibrates like a “motor running,” moving with a “rich, deep thrumming under the cracked surface.” It can be unpleasant at times, but it’s these “cracks” that allow the raw vulnerability within her voice to shine through.” The woman who has all her life sung injustice, stripping whichever orchestral arrangement down to her voice and the soft piano sound, emphasises the inequality which underlies every romantic relationship. Every violently emotional erotic subject, whose madness for sentimental tension rips apart any possibility of power-balance within his love stories. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LT38CIgRse4  

With that said, Simone and Buckley’s covers cannot be compared to any other before or after, simply because the feeling of war that their stories and voices bear, is embodied in a way that necessitates its self-destructiveness; leaving no clues of the recipe of escape for the musical descendants. 

To all the melodies that explain nothing, but thanks to them our feelings become explicable, and K., because if anyone, she can do better than Simone.

Written and Curated by Marianna Serveta Lensed by Elen Aivali Special thanks to Diana Kavalieri for the graphic designs of the blog

Featuring “Meadow” Lace Manteau

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You that in far-off countries of the sky can dwell secure, look back upon me here; for I am weary of this frail world's decay •

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Radiance

“What’s most beautiful, is what disappears before your eyes”

That was the leading directive of Naomi Kawase’s latest film, Radiance (2017), a thoughtful study and meditation on senses and cinema. In the storyline, we are following a writer of audio versions of films for the visually impaired audience, during the processing of the descriptions of her latest movie with a focus-group of blind or partially sighted individuals. Among the individuals of the focus-group is a photographer, who is gradually losing his sight, yet desperately struggling to hang on to the fragments of the visual world. While the plot unravels itself, we are following various layers of narrative and story-telling  in forms of synecdoche (interrelated levels of analysis), quite untypical for the Japanese style of film-making.

The dimensions that mostly touched me though, are the multifarious narrative of the relationship between the photographer and his camera and the essentiality of “visual silence” so that to trust the other senses with a similar devotion. The first dimension, is gradually explored through the observation of the character’s drama: while watching and, in cooperation with the writer, processing “Radiance” (a film within the film) the photographer who is slowly losing his sight, gives the mostly harsh criticism to the writer’s work. That brings about the mistake that is often made, when people give overly detailed analyses to blind individuals and by that underestimating the rest of their senses, that are actually working overtime. But most importantly, it gives rise to the fear of a person who has built his life on the power of his vision and gradually feels it fading away. Despite the various compelling scenes where the actions of fatalism he is progressively driven to, are explored, there is one line wherein his camera is metaphorically parallelised with his heart and he simply yet disarmingly states: ““I still carry it with me, although I cannot use it anymore”.

The second dimension and the “visual silence” which was mentioned, falls better in place with the Japanese life- and film-making style. That entails the tight connection of the Japanese people with nature and the realisation of their bodily functions as coordinated with those of the Earth, in consonance with the spiritual and cultural specialities of Japan. Both technically in the film-making process: where the natural autumnal light and the forest sounds were used, and theoretically, in the attributes of the story: where the completeness of the characters is determined by a wide array of elements that lie outside the limitations of the visual reality, what is created as a need for each respective subject is to just pause whatever they are doing for a while, close their eyes and “listen” to all the other forms/parts of reality that are spinning around them. In order for that understanding to be enabled, silence is both a prerequisite and a consequence. However, silence is not conceptualised as an empty space of stillness, but as the most inclusive form of meaning, where there is no need for it to be explicitly displayed. Thus, the use of it for making full use of our senses, was gracefully summarised in one of the characters’ statements, an old man (otherwise the iconic Japanese actor Tatsuya Fujiwho) who is acting in the film within the film and whose silence is tried to be understood by the writer in order to be better described for the blind audience: “I will be deeply touched if a young woman like you can appreciate the poetic nature of the view of an old  man’s silhouette walking away”.

Naomi Kawase’s film will be criticised in various ways by film-critics due to its multilevel  structure and wide thematic outreach, including the view of it as a “manual” of how to watch cinema, of how to incorporate handicapped people in artistic narratives, of how to view the self as a result of, or as emerging from complex realities. Yet, my appreciation of it lies mainly with the complementary function of the quote lastly presented with the one initially used: “What’s most beautiful, is what disappears before your eyes”. By the parallel reading of these two, it becomes clear that it is not the self-destructive element of the material substance which was to be focused, but the evanescent character of existence, and due to that, the need of it to be grasped by the activation of all the body’s senses.

Photographed by Vahe Hovhannisyan Written and curated by Marianna Serveta Feat. “Compass” embroidered faux fur coat and “Elio” velvet embroidered top/dress.

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Where did the sound go?

I was slowly walking on the wooden floor of the Hallwyl hall, staring around mesmerised at the medieval Renaissancian elements of the architectural design. Letting the touch of the thick light on the colourful ceiling, narrate through iridescent haze the scent of the stories of the people who similarly walked down this halls, since the medieval times. Yet, the melancholic hues inside me were not fuelled by the realisation of the passage of time, nor by the typical longing of eras and elements of these eras, which although are past feel much more real and actual than the present. My melancholy was mainly aroused by the realisation of sounds, that die away and die out because in one way or the other, nobody needs them anymore. 

  All this was initiated by the stable creaking sound, made by my heels on the aged floor, coupled with the sporadic soft tinkling sound the metal objects decorating the heavy furniture in the rooms were making, as I shook the floor under them. It was the sound that enabled me realising my own slight, basically unimportant imprint on the room or the time: there and then. I reckoned that otherwise, I cause that sound only when I am at an old person’s house, as if the creak-tinkle sound combination is age or era specific. As if our modern time, in order to lighten up its luggage of inherited properties for the sake of functionality, decided to gradually leave behind sounds that do nothing more that sealing the moment with signs of physical consciousness. 

Thus, I allowed myself to embrace that kind of melancholy by reckoning similar sounds. Probably due to the atmosphere of the Hall, what came to my mind straight was that plopping, hiss-like sound caused when a bottle of wine is opened. The shortest sound of celebration, which aims to control the escaping airflow, while what the ear grasps is a sound similar to a liquid exploding behind someone’s lips. Then, I thought about the rustle sound of sheets of paper when they move because of the air coming in from an open window, or because you sit too close to someone at the library. Someone who is not maniacally typing on a computer, but gently turns the pages of his notebook. A sound that is as soft as the landing of his breathe on you would have felt, if you sat even closer to him

A less material-related sound that came to me straight after, is the crunchy, crackling squelch sound of winter boots walking on fresh snow on a sunny day, when everything is still and glittery quiet. Or my personal favourite, that of the fizzing, bubble-bursting, crawling sound of the waves licking the shore of the beach. Even the chirping, short-whooping sound of sudden surprise when unexpectedly stumbling across a loved one from the past and feel freed-from-social-conventions enough, to out-loud cheer about it. A sound that I hardly ever hear or notice anymore and probably dies out, along with the principles of spontaneity. All of these sounds, and others that are probably more meaningful to each and every one of us, may not be era-specific in the same terms, but their gradual disappearance may be warning for the transition to the minimalistic or reductive tendencies of functionality. It might not necessarily be that the modern-age needs will gradually eliminate them, but still by detecting them within our pleasure-basket, by addressing and specifying them and locating them in time and space, so that for their detection -even in gradually less occasions- to be facilitated, their maintenance, at least within our consciousness, can be safeguarded.

Featuring “Alba” embroidered lace dress Written and curated by Marianna Serveta Photographed by Emma Sundkvist. Special thanks to the warm and worried heart of L., to whom this is dedicated.

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Wrapped but unbuttoned

Ronald Barthes, the French pioneer literary theorist, philosopher and linguist whose work had a paramount impact on the history of structuralism, semiotics and anthropology, asks in his book The Language of Fashion the following rhetoric question: “Are not couturiers the poets who, from year to year, from strophe to strophe, write the anthem of the feminine body?”

What was succeeded with that inquiry, is for the semiology, or the symbolic capacity of clothing per se and the normative character of such a capacity, to be given the appropriate attention. That is because despite the so far tendency to first view the body and after the garment, Barthes, managed to summarise in his statement some decades ago, the reality of our age: that in order for the body to be realised, the garment becomes the precondition of attention. Every season that fashion changes, new types of bodies and womanhood are generated, and so the body becomes a canvas, a systematic space of alternating signs. The way that is proposed in order for that to be understood, is to observe some classic examples of the big screen. That is because since Barthes addresses the semiotics of symbolic representation, then the symbolic construction of standards of beauty through an important vehicle of mass culture, which is cinema, is found most relevant.

Layers as statements: 10 coats that are hard to be forgotten The examples are countless, but the collection chosen hereafter does not aim to solely reflect stylistically strong pieces, which would necessitate for Fransoice Hardy’s famous mod-touched trench or Sean Connery’s landmark-for-costume-design Victorian coat in the “first great train robbery”, even  Gene Hackman’s seemingly rudimentary raincoat in Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Conversation”, or Rita Hayworth’s lavish couture in “Cover Girl” to be mentioned, in order for the influence on the fashion design to be merely emphasised. Instead, some examples that are evaluated as highly influential both for a quick fashion-history of the big screen overview and for the actual film-plot unravelling and furtherance, are the following:

1.Tippi Hedren’s green hip-length, Chanel-like coat at Alfred Hitchcock’s “Birds”, which aesthetically connects it to the dateless simplicity of Grace Kelly’s celadon-green suit in “Rear Window”. In the Birds, the shade of green, which matches the love-birds’ colour that the protagonist buys for her sister, ironically signify the character identification of the protagonist with the birds: as reckless and playful, yet of mysterious and noxious nature.

2. Julie Christie’s breathtaking light-brown fur coat in David Lean’s “Dr Zhivago”, which was used to semiotically illustrate social change in Russia, after the ideological upheaval following from war and revolution.

3. Anne Bancroft’s heavy and glorious Cheetah coat in Mike Nichol’s “The Graduate”, which is the stylistic embodiment of temptation and allurement, while it brilliantly signals the maturation it will lead to, when it comes to the plot.

4.Louise Brook’s white, see-through light kimono-coat in Georg Wilhelm Pabst’s silent “Pandora’s Box”, depict in the most suitable way, the protagonist’s insouciant, innocent yet dazzling and lustful eroticism, which does not only summarise her character but also gives incredible hints about the film’s plot.

5.Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep’s composite mix of tan and beige, cotton-weave Burberry trench coats in Robert Benton’s “Kramer vs. Kramer”, where Streep’s trench maintains the contemporary version of the classic noir silhouette and where similarly Hoffman as a symbolic victim of the “femme fatale”, has given his uniform to her. Figuratively, the straight and classic lines of the Burberrian creations, parallelise the strict coats with control mechanisms, while at the same time the gradual colour shifts of Streep’s coats signal a discreet pro-feminist gradual message of the chosen couture, as reflected on the plot.

6.Catherine Deneuve’s effortless, Parisian-chic light grey trench coat in Jacques Demy’s “Umbrellas of Cherbourg”, which epitomised the simplicity yet strength of the representational narrative.

7.Sigourney Weaver’s big buttoned, oversized, wide check, dramatically dark blue cape coat in Ivan Reitman’s “Ghostbusters”, felicitously illustrating the frosty yet eventually melted character of the protagonist, within the storyline.

8.Angelina Jolie’s plush-fur trimmed coat in Clint Eastwood’s “Changeling” which seems to be allegorically wrapping and muzzling in a conservative 1920’s-inspired way, the frail and exhausted body of a driven-to-paranoia mother, in search of her son. 

9. Gwyneth Paltrow’s toffee coloured, Fendi, fur coat in Wes Anderson’s “The Royal Tenenbaums”, beautifully summarising the difficulty of the estranged characters to meaningfully interact with each other.

10. Sharon Stone’s white shawl neck wrap-over coat in Paul Verhoeven’s “Basic Instinct” with its obvious stylistic reference to the Hitchcockian “Vertigo”, which exposed in the most representative way the protagonist’s core element: that her intelligence can be hidden in plain sight.

The discussion regarding the effects of such a semiology of representation on the shared view of aesthetics within a culture, in consonance with Barthes theorisation, could be extended and of great interest. Yet, for now, I may conclude that the powerful element of a coat contra a photograph, is that the former necessitate touch and scent to evoke memories and create impression, while the impression-ability of the later, rests on its pure dynamic of representation.

Written and curated by Marianna Serveta Photographed by Emma Sundkvist

Featuring “Pascal” white wool lace light coat.