a130061

Family portraits in the West in the past used to be solely for the purpose of keeping a record. It was a luxury that only very few rich people can enjoy. Exposure time used to be over a minute long. And in order for people not to move, metal props were placed behind their necks to keep the head still. Smiling was also not a common practice because taking pictures were a formal event in which only drunkards and children smiled.

There was also a period when post-mortem photography was popular. These were pictures of the dead. Family members would pose beside recently deceased family members to capture their last bit of life before the body decomposes. In the above picture, the lady in the center appears very clear, this is probably because she is dead. In comparison, the older couple beside her are blurry because they are alive and tend to be moving during the photo-taking session.

Nowadays, with the invention of the modern camera, everyone can take pictures anywhere, any time. However, due to our busy schedules, taking family photos has become rare in our current society.

The idea that our Singapore was built up by Coolies and Samsui women has been taught to our generation since the very beginning of our education. However, why do we still see the foreign workers as someone who do not deserve our respect? Because Singapore is a small nation, it cannot afford to use its manpower on “low-skill” jobs like construction workers. We are trained to aim for higher forms of career since young.We have been told that jobs like janitors, construction workers, and maids, are not “good” enough jobs. We seem to think that these are jobs only to be done by foreign workers, who are in a way “lower” in status than us. Why do we think so? Maybe, we have been developing too fast as a nation, and has become prideful. Maybe we are living too good a life. I think, Singaporeans don’t appreciate their life enough because they haven’t experienced nor seen how bad life can be. One can work for six days a week, and still not be able to pay the rent or pay for one’s children’s education. It happens in several other countries, but the ones happening in Singapore has yet to be brought to light. Maybe that is why we have yet to learn to respect these honorable workers sacrificing their time and effort to help us build “OUR” country.

The long awaited exhibition day was a blast! The other groups’ setups were so interesting and detailed. Many classmates also commented on our group’s setup. It was fascinating to see the different ways other groups exhibited their ideas.

Making the dress for Barbie was more difficult than I thought. There were a lot of layers needed to make the dress look decent. Though I tried my best to imitate the dress I chose, it didn’t exactly turn out the way I wanted. We were lucky we had Xiayin in our team. With excess to the product design studios and equipment, we were able to fix the wood pieces and acrylic together the right way. A problem we encountered while making the set, was the attachment of the two very thin pieces of acrylic. the glue we used was very strong, but it didn’t seem to be connecting the two boards together. Thus, after ,any tries, we held the two boards together and waited for it to dry, which it did. It was fun working with the rest of the team, and ensuring that the size of the tea cups and tables matched the doll.

Dress (Robe à la Française)
c. 1740s
Silk, linen, pigment
Length at central back 58in. (147.3cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1995
1995.235a,b

Fashion historian Aileen Ribeiro mentioned in her book Dress in Eighteenth-Century Europe 1715–1789 that when people think about fashion in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, many think only of Paris and the French, often forgetting those in England, Italy, and elsewhere worldwide. For the eighteenth-century Englishwoman, the Chinese lifestyle proved irresistibly captivating; imagery of the Cathay exemplified refinement, sophistication and status through the aesthetics’ delicate sensibilities. So fascinated were they with this foreign culture that they did not want to just infuse the idea of Chinoiserie into their home or their objects of everyday life. Instead, they also desired to wear it on their bodies. This garment reflects England’s obsession with Chinoiserie during that time.

An example of the robe à la française, or the sack-back gown frequently seen in the eighteenth century, the back of this dress falls in box pleats that cascade from the shoulder to the floor. The folds direct the viewers’ eye towards the ground, creating a long and slender silhouette. Emphasis on the shape and silhouette of the figure is characteristic of eighteenth-century fashion and a beautiful shape was achieved by adding panniers to prop up fabric at the hips, and corsets to reduce the size of the waist. The parted drapery opening in the front of the skirt revealed the underskirt and petticoat, adding further sophistication in layers to the dress.

Hand-painted, this gown features bold and oriental floral patterns clustered together in sections of bright colour. As seen from the garment, colour palettes of clothing were also chosen to associate the wearer with Chinese nobility, resulting in the popularity of yellow dresses during that time. Symbolic patterns such as the phoenix and dragons were also used on certain parts of the outfit, along with Chinese herb plants and flowers rarely seen in the West. The exclusivity of Chinese silk and textiles, combined with a burgeoning demand for such fabrics, resulted in attempts by European factories to replicate the patterns. Production eventually became local and reduced the cost of such fashion, increasing Chinoiserie fashion’s accessibility to the masses.

Provenance of this dress appears unclear; analysis by the Museum’s Objects Conservation Laboratories found no presence of an underpaint of silver and black lines, commonly seen with textiles made in China. Instead, four different colour pigments – Prussian blue, gamboge (a kind of mustard yellow), red and brown– were found to have been used to produce the floral patterns mentioned earlier, hinting at a European origin to the textile. This is supported by history, which shows that the Huguenots (French Protestants) first began to produce silks in Germany around the 1700s. Thus, it is possible that the textile originated in Germany or Holland. Upon examining the craftsmanship of this dress, it was theorized that it could have been made in England. It is interesting to note that the mix of origins proves the existence of a frequent exchange of culture and knowledge through trade among European countries, and that fashion was a regional production.

To be sure, gowns like this were not exclusive to England and taken on its own, could simply be written off as a freak of fashion much like tribal or hippie fashion nowadays. However, by embracing Chinoiserie fashion in conjunction with Chinoiserie interior design and the decorative arts, the English showed that they were more than just enamored with the style, and that it had to be taken holistically as a way of life.

Bibliography

Cullen, O. (2003, October). Eighteenth-Century European Dress. Retrieved November 16, 2015, from http://metmuseum.org/toah/hd/eudr/hd_eudr.htm

Dress (Robe à la française) [England; textile Dutch or German] (1995.235a,b). (2008, September). Retrieved November 16, 2015, from http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/1995.235a,b

Hart, A., & North, S. (1998). Fashion in detail: From the 17th and 18th centuries. New York, New York: V & A Publications.

Watt, M. (2003, October). Textile Production in Europe: Silk, 1600–1800. Retrieved November 16, 2015, from http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/txt_s/hd_txt_s.htm

Team 8

Xue En Ge

U1330576L

Dress (Robe à la Française)
c. 1740s
Silk, linen, pigment
Length at central back 58in. (147.3cm)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1995
1995.235a,b

This dress is an example of robe à la française, or the sack-back gown commonly seen in the eighteenth century. Known for the portion of fabric at the back arranged in box pleats that fall loose from the shoulder all the way to the floor, this sack-back gown also has removable frills on the sleeves for easier washing. A dress like this would be considered formal, and would be worn to parties and gatherings to show the status and trendiness of the owner.  Featuring bold and oriental floral patterns hand-painted in dense areas of saturated colour, Chinoiserie fashion items like this showed that the eighteenth-century woman was not only interested in reproducing Chinese patterns on their dresses. They also consciously utilised colours and materials associated with royalty in China to feed their imagined exotic Asian lifestyle. Due to the rarity of Chinese silk and textiles, factories in England, France, Holland, and Germany began to imitate the popular Chinese silk patterns. As the Chinoiserie fashion became more popular, it was no longer a luxury owned solely by the rich, but was also enjoyed by the middle-class masses.

Team 8
Xue En Ge
U1330576L

Robe à la Française

Aileen Ribeiro, a fashion historian, mentioned in her book,  “Dress in Eighteenth-Century Europe, 1715–1789”, when people think about fashion in the 17th and 18th century, most people think directly of Paris and the French, forgetting those in England, Italy, and elsewhere worldwide. This piece reflects England’s obsession in chinoiserie in the eighteenth century.

This dress is an example of robe à la française, or the “sack-back gown” commonly seen in the Eighteenth century. These gowns are known for the portion of fabric at the back, which is arranged in box pleats that fall loose from the shoulder all the way to the floor. The folds direct the viewers’ eye towards the floor, creating a long and slender image. It also has removable frills on the sleeves for easier washing. Eighteenth century dresses emphasize on the shape and silhouette of the figure. A beautiful shape was achieved by adding panniers to prop up fabric at the hips, and corsets to reduce the size of the waist. The parted drapery opening in the front of the skirt reveals the underskirt and petticoat, giving the dress more sophistication in layers. The Museum’s Objects Conservation Laboratories analyzed the textiles of this gown and found no presence of an under-paint of silver and black lines, which is commonly seen with textiles made in China. They found that four different colour pigments were used to produce the drawings, Prussian blue, red and brown lake, and Gamboge. It can thus be inferred that the gown was made in Europe.

This hand-painted gown has bold and oriental floral patterns, placed in dense areas of saturated colour. Images in the pattern include Chinese herb plants and flowers rarely seen in the West. A dress like this is considered formal, and would be worn to parties and gatherings to show the status and trendiness of the owner.  The woman of the eighteenth century in chinoiserie fashion not only fused Chinese patterns onto their dress, they also used colours and materials associated with royalties in China to feed their imagined exotic Asian lifestyle. To associate themselves with Chinese nobility, yellow colour is used in many dresses of the 18th century. Symbolic patterns such as phoenix and dragons are also used on certain parts of the outfit. Due to the rarity of Chinese silk and textiles, factories in England, Holland, France, and Germany started to imitate the popular Chinese silk patterns, producing them locally, and reducing the cost of such fashion. As the chinoiserie fashion became more popular, it was no longer a luxury owned solely by the rich, but was also enjoyed by the majority.

The Huguenots (French Protestants) began to produce silks in Germany around the 1700s, so it is possible that this textile came from Dutch and Germany. In addition, other evidence suggest that the dress was made in England. The mixture of origins proves the frequent exchange of culture and knowledge between the European countries. Thus, Chinoiserie was not just occurring in France and Gemany. This notion of exotic Chinese lifestyle was also popular in England.

Bibliography:

Aileen Ribeiro. (2002) Dress in Eighteenth-Century Europe, 1715–1789. New york. Yale University Press; Rev Sub edition

Cullen, Oriole. “Eighteenth-Century European Dress”. In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/eudr/hd_eudr.htm (October 2003)

Watt, Melinda. “Textile Production in Europe: Silk, 1600–1800”. In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/txt_s/hd_txt_s.htm (October 2003)

Hart & North, ‘Historic Dress in Detail’ (V&A: V&A Publications, 1998)