Martino Gamper’s travelling show, 100 Chairs in 100 Days, has made its way to Melbourne. Wandering through the carpet of chairs assembled from a multitude of objects, a dialogue emerges that speaks of consumption, waste and creative design process. I for one left the exhibition space wanting to discover more. Fortunately I was able to pick the brain of Nella Themelios, the Creative Producer at the RMIT Design Hub, to explore these themes further.

Nella, tell us about your involvement in 100 Chairs in relation to your role as Creative Producer at the RMIT Design Hub.
My role as producer is to work across the curatorial and technical teams to deliver the show. The curatorial elements that are significant in this iteration of Gamper’s show are more about the things that happen around the show because the project itself began in 2007. It’s a collection of 99 chairs that Martino made at a moment very early on in his career. It’s gone to a whole host of other cities before it arrived to us […] the idea being that the 99 chairs travel and in each city, Martino Gamper makes the 100th chair. In one sense the show is static but in a way it is alive because he is constantly re-making the chair in the context of the city he is in at the time.

Was there anything that made the Melbourne version of Gamper’s show different?
The added layer that we have contributed to the Melbourne version of the show is a workshop that we ran alongside the project called ‘Post Forma’. The workshop aimed to engage the research community at RMIT and was lead by Martino himself alongside Melbourne-based graphic designer, Paul Fuog. One of the really unique things about Design Hub is that our remit is really about showcasing design research; focusing on unravelling the process and the research that underlies design practice in all of its forms. Gamper’s entire project wasn’t about meeting a commission, it was a self-directed project about him trying to define what his own voice is as a designer. We try to find ways to find paths into the show that allow for new research connections to happen; this was the idea with the three-day intensive workshop. The participants were designers from Melbourne and interstate who were already practicing but perhaps wanted an opportunity to go back to the more abstract elements of what they do and have an opportunity to experiment because you don’t really get that when you’re practicing. There was a series of constraints and the participants were only able to use a set of materials already at hand to produce a material outcome in three days. There is an exhibition on Level 3 at the moment, which shows all of the outcomes from that workshop.

The exhibition space within the Design Hub is extremely expansive, how did you go about utilising this space? Did it influence how you chose to present the work?
One of the interesting things about the show in terms of the curatorial process was that very early on we spoke to Martino about an exhibition environment. We discussed different modes to display the objects that would take advantage of the space. We talked about elevating the chairs or suspending them or raising them above eye height or even creating an undulating environment. He was not interested in any of it! But, it makes a lot of sense because the project is anathema to that. It’s about thinking and exploring the hierarchy of value inherent in a chair and not monumentalising a designed object but bringing it back down to a very human, everyday level. The show works in the space because the chairs are on the same plane as the visitor, they share the same space and although you can’t touch them you can get very close. In a way the show resisted any kind of curatorial input because of the very nature of it and the kind of ideas Gamper is trying to get across.

The scattered layout of the chairs seems like a curator’s dream! Was there method to the madness?
Originally he [Gamper] did a paper layout, putting images of chairs in groups. So, we laid out the chairs based on that layout but then he came in towards the end of the installation period and just redid everything. That was very much intuitive, he wants to respond to the space and so the groupings are very much based on his own intuition.

Martino Gamper is arguably the Marcel Duchamp of interior design, providing ‘ready-made’ found and unwanted items with new stories in the form of chairs. What is your opinion of this reinterpretation of found objects as a method of communication?
When I’m required to do the floor talks, I have this little spiel. I like to think of him as the Margiela of industrial design. He is not just taking found objects, he is taking quite iconic found objects, cutting them up and reconstituting them into a new whole in a very specific way. A lot of the chairs he has used are not random, everyday chairs but are really quite famous. There’s a chair in which he’s spliced together a Jasper Morrison chair with a Thonet Bentwood chair. Jasper Morrison is a very well known British designer who exploits new technology in his work and so that particular chair was made using a very new technology. On the other side, Thonet was well known for pioneering new production methods and he pioneered a new way to mass-produce chairs out of bent wood. And so, in very deliberate and specific ways, Gamper is putting different designs or histories together within a chair so that a new conversation can take place. For me, it’s the process that’s revealed within the construction that is the most interesting part.

From your vantage point as Creative Producer at the Design Hub, what was your experience of the creation of the 100th chair?
We are very lucky here at RMIT and have some great workshop spaces full of materials that are amazing for making chairs particularly out of wood. Gamper had free reign of our workshops and was able to use a whole range of other materials that people had donated and materials we had set aside from around the Design Hub. He started by pulling apart some of the chairs we had given him and putting them back together before settling on using a broken white desk chair as the spine. It took 12 hours, and from 9am he was working non-stop on the chair, […] making design decisions very quickly and somehow still come out with a beautiful chair. I don’t know why but I was surprised by his skill. The processes of designing and making are often quite separate but in his case, he is actually a very skilled maker.

Finally, do you have a favourite chair in the show?
Yes, it’s called Black and Silver and it’s two chairs intertwined. I like it because they’re not solitary, they’re connected but they can come apart. Chairs are placeholders for people and the body and so to me they are like two little humans.

See photos from 100 Chairs in 100 Days here.

Fashion is a reflection of the current zeitgeist; this is a well-known fact. It emulates the shift in politics, changing environmental factors, and specific cultural happenings – such as music and art – of a time. I was wide-eyed as I walked into the Ian Potter Centre, the idea of this much fashion history in one space was overwhelming and 200 Years of Australian Fashion did not disappoint.The exhibition is a comprehensive presentation of Australian fashion, the first of its kind, taking place at NGV Australia and coinciding with the 20^th anniversary of VAMFF. It comprises 120 pieces from more than 90 designers who have worked over the past two centuries, from Victorian dressmakers and tailors to the saturated work of Jenny Kee and Linda Jackson, right through to the designs of contemporary artists such as Romance Was Born and Toni Maticesvski, to name but a few.

As you enter the exhibition space you are immediately cut off from the outside world by white translucent drapes propelling you into an overstimulating world of condensed fashion mastery. 200 Years of Australian Fashion’s strength was the escapism it oozed. Every room flowed on from the other with a sense of awe and surprise. Although each room was traditional in presentation in terms of the thematic and chronological order, the way the clothes were presented was entirely original. Ornate mirrors and curtains adorned the walls in the Victorian dress section alongside a suitably impressive collection of fine millinery. The mannequins were customised, personifying the era and the ideas of the time in every detail, which enriched the clothes with life. In the ‘Salon’ section the mannequins had exquisite millinery and fluid poses as though in an haute couture presentation, while the models in the obviously themed eighties room danced at random on a disco stage in designs of the time. This comprehensive thematic curation exemplified how the exhibition designers and curators really wanted to create a context for the clothing rather than display them in a static white cube. By doing this, they most certainly succeeded in setting the scene.

Antipodean fashion punches above its weight, isolated from the major fashion centres; which you can see in the designs, particularly from the second half of the 20^th century onwards. This drive for individuality, seen expressively in the work of designers such as Jenny Bannister and contemporary label Di$count Universe. The beautifully curated rooms reflected the eras with which the designers were working in, taking into consideration the environment, socio-political and cultural happenings right down to the soundtracks playing in the background. Flowers were strewn across the floor at the feet of five mannequins dressed in textured mini-dresses. Above these, stories of the Jean Shrimpton-Flemington Races scandal streamed on a screen giving a radical sixties context to the clothing. The rich displays were interspersed with archival footage of past fashion shows, photographs and interviews with members of the Fashion Design Council and other key fashion doyennes. This addition helped break up the sensory overload of designs and displays, anchoring them with cultural and historical context.

From colonial fashion through to the modern urban shopping of department stores; the influence of French haute couture to the radical sixties; 200 Years of Australian Fashion is an intensive catalogue of the chronological history of fashion in this country. It is fashion escapism at its best, as well as a crash course history lesson. Presenting costume and clothing as what it really is, a reflection of a nation’s identity and context as well as true works of sculptural art, the exhibition is a sure success. The one let down for the exhibition as a whole however, was the exclusion of indigenous fashion designers in the line-up, as the nation’s first people and with the wealth of young talent out there, the exclusion is palpable.

200 Years of Australian Fashion runs until 31 July 2016 at the Ian Potter Centre, NGV Australia at Federation Square. More details here.

Eat My Style

Various dessert boutique locations

Review by Hannah Kuhar

With the rise of social media putting dessert designers under increasing pressure to create visually appealing, Insta-worthy treats, the worlds of fashion and food have merged in VAMFF’s innovative new cultural sub-series, Eat My Style.

Pairing four of Melbourne’s favourite south of the river dessert boutiques with rising local fashion designers, Eat My Style is the perfect opportunity for fashionistas to explore their inner foodie. Running from February 13 to March 13, the sweets are available from each creator’s respective dessert boutique.

Inspired by the marbled framboise and white ‘Lovette’ print from RACHELALEX’s Efflorescent collection, Bernard Chu of LuxBite has created a simply divine dessert, aptly entitled Be My Love. Based on the best selling milk/dark chocolate cake of the same title, the white/milk chocolate version embraces the femininity of RACHELALEX’s collections, with tempered, red-coloured chocolate hearts and a freeze-dried raspberry topping the petite gâteau. A remarkably homogenous raspberry jam is the most astonishing element of the dessert; the entire morsel, however, is certainly not of lesser acclaim. Perfectly balancing flavours and their textures – sourness of dried raspberry, sweetness of raspberry jelly, smooth texture of chocolate mousse, density of chocolate cake base, sticky touch of white chocolate glaze and crunch of tempered chocolate embellishments – it is little wonder why the fine detail-driven boutiques are now each others’ new favourite loves.

LifewithBibelot, a collaboration between South Melbourne institution Bibelot and Melbourne’s monochrome specialists LIFEwithBIRD, is also a multi-layered cake, rich in white, milk, and dark chocolate notes. Without doubt, the highlight of the dessert is a an aerated layer of earl grey and lemon; keeping the dessert honest, the sharp notes cleverly cut through decadent chocolate soufflé biscuit and soft creme brûlée. In addition, notes of clove, spice and vanilla, and the fantastical meringue, reminiscent of a magical pashmak, create strong links to the Middle East-inspired LIFEwithBIRD AW16 range. Acknowledging the collection’s colour palate, the clean white exterior and chocolate garnishes (one a white and black geometric printed panel, the other a black and earthy red demisphere) demonstrate a strong connection between artists.

For those who enjoy the high life, Eat My Style is a delicious mélange of Melbourne’s finest offerings. Highlighting the powers of local design and brand association, Eat My Style is a successful exhibition of artists collaborating in previously unexplored realms. Can life get any sweeter than this?

Would you like to smell like a wet dog?

If so, you’re in luck; sensory artist David Capra, in collaboration with Jonathan Midgley of Brisbane’s Damask Perfumery, has captured the scent of David’s dachshund Teena and bottled it for all humans and dogs to enjoy.

Described by Capra as “the next best thing to Teena”, Eau de Wet Dogge was originally created for the Museum of Contemporary Art Australia’s Jackson Bella Room, an interactive space where artists create environments specifically for people with special needs. Partnering with VAMFF, the Melbourne launch was held at West Space on Tuesday, with the exhibition running from the 12th of February until the 12th of March.

An artsy crowd of 20 congregated in the Bourke Street gallery, keen to see the larger-than-life Capra and the white-collared icon that is Teena. Never out of her owner’s arms, the polite and placid pooch was seemingly unphased by the 40 degree heat and the number of hands which stroked her manicured coat. Being serenaded by a Kenny Rogers impersonator sent her a little squeamish, however – a feeling also shared by the audience members. Lines such as “my left fingers are for lingering, my right ones [are] for…” and “do teeth ejaculate?”, combined with the sight of a grown man lying seductively on the floor, while the object of his admiration attempted to escape, left visitors with hands over mouths and much stifled laughter.

This mood continued throughout the opening: the entirely genuine presentation seemed a little far-fetched for most to appreciate. A speech/series of woofs, read by Capra on behalf of Teena, may not have been entirely accessible to the audience; however the message of loyalty and cross-species love was certainly not lost.

As for the perfume itself – I thought Capra was exaggerating when he claimed that the scent stayed under his fingernails “for three weeks”. Unlike most perfumes, the peppery scent remained omnipresent well after I’d left the exhibition. With deep heady notes of spice, tinged with airy top notes of forest, the fragrance is most definitely reminiscent of a washed dog. Not completely dirty, yet not entirely agreeable, Eau de Wet Dogge is a unique scent, guaranteed to turn heads and tails. Perfect for travelling dog-owners, this scent is full of flavours of love and deep beauty.

Eau de Wet Dogge is available now for $89.95.

Dawn Chorus

Karen Woodbury Gallery

Review by Jessica Gregory

If you visit the Karen Woodbury gallery during VAMFF, I can guarantee that your opinion of stationery will change forever. Pencils are objects we buy to draw or take notes. Pencils are simple, uninteresting and practical, right? Lionel Bawden thinks otherwise and in his current exhibition titled Dawn Chorus, proves that we are all completely missing the point (pun intended).

Lionel Bawden is a multi-disciplinary artist, born and currently working in Australia. He is best known for his sculptural masterpieces that are made almost entirely from the hexagonal, Staedtler pencils we all know so well. Throughout his creative career, Bawden has expressed ideas associated with the construction of identity through themes of flux and transformation, as well as exploring the earth’s landscape as symbolic of the physical body and its complexities.

Walking into the exhibition space, a single white-walled room, Bawden’s three-dimensional forms can be seen floating amongst the flat canvas of white. A total of ten sculptures are displayed, ranging in size from the smallest piece titled And the World Opens Up to the expansive, three-piece sculpture Like a Glacier Moving Through You which is dedicated an entire wall. It is as these sculptures are closely examined that the hundreds of pencils making up each amorphous form are first noticed. In order to truly appreciate the magnificence of what Bawden has achieved, the viewer must observe the sculptures from both close up and further away, each view providing a different but equally impressive perspective. Bawden has morphed what was once so rigidly linear and practical into something incomprehensibly fluid and rhythmic. It is as though Bawden has captured shape, contours and movement in one singular, dynamic moment. It is a spectacular experience that cannot be grasped through a phone or computer screen.

The earthy tones of the sculptures reflect the exhibition’s key themes. Dawn Chorus creates a dialogue that tells of movement, territory and space. The medium of the Staedtler pencil is used to reinforce the many possibilities of the earth’s natural landscape, the forms whispering to the viewer of journeys through canyons, lakes and mountainous terrains. It is Bawden’s ability to tell these stories through his understanding of the beauty of form that makes this exhibition one not to miss.

Dawn Chorus is for everyone to enjoy and can be viewed in under half an hour, located right in the CBD. Be sharp (once again intended), do yourself a favour, and head to the Karen Woodbury Gallery to experience the genius that is Lionel Bawden.

Dawn Chorus runs until 9 April 2016 at the Karen Woodbury Gallery. More details here.

Interview by Vanessa Gerrie

Alison Kubler is the ultimate multi-tasker; admirably balancing being a curator, writer, art consultant and Board Director of the Museum of Brisbane as well as co-author of the Thames & Hudson published Art/Fashion in the 21^st Century amongst a multitude of other roles. In the midst of Virgin Australia Melbourne Fashion Festival I managed to steal a little of her time and wealth of information to chat about the collision of art and fashion and the beautiful work by artist Chantal Fraser she curated for video space PLAY, as part of the VAMFF Cultural Program [read Vanessa’s review of the PLAY exhibition here].

Alison, you are a writer and curator amongst many other things! How did your interest and focus on fashion come about in this context?
I have a degree in art history and I have always worked as a freelance writer about art. I have always had a strong interest in fashion too, and did some fashion studies as part of my art history degree, but I have increasingly been working across the disciplines more actively. I am very interested in how art and fashion are closely aligned – commercially and intellectually. I have been writing about this for some time, and then in 2013 Mitchell Oakley Smith and I published a book entitled Art/Fashion in the 21st Century through Thames and Hudson UK that has since been published in several languages. It was a solid two year project and involved a great deal of research but I have been collating this information for about 15 years so I was ready to write!

You curated PLAY, which is exhibiting a video work by multimedia artist Chantal Fraser, for the VAMFF Cultural Program, how did this collaboration come about?
PLAY is a great initiative to shine a light on one of Australia’s best ARI (Artist Run Initiatives). It is really wonderful that VAMFF has a willingness to make their cultural program reach out to the broader artistic community. It also recognises that art and fashion are regular collaborators and that they share a significant audience.

It Hangs with Rattlesnakes and Rubbish looks at identity through clothing and subverts cultural stereotypes and makes us question why we have these assumptions, it is a really powerful piece. Can you discuss this intersection of cultural identity and clothing/costume and how it is referenced in the film?
It seems obvious, but we do forget the potency of the clothing we wear. Most of us make arbitrary decisions about warmth, coolness, comfort, or what we feel is acceptable. Fashion as a definition does not factor for many people, in that they don’t wake up and think I must wear something that is in ‘fashion’. This too is a loose concept as one person’s fashion is another’s out of fashion. I think Chantal’s work makes interesting analogies with costume and artistic identity – she uses clothing and costume to analyse perceptions of race and colour and gender, all things we make snap judgments about, but also she does this is in a particularly poetic way. The work is beautifully fluid, very elegant. It contains ideas that are gently embedded.

This work shows what a powerful tool clothing really is within our culture and how it can connote a lot about one’s personality, cultural identity and situation in time. This is what I love about fashion, as well as the frivolous side of course! What do you love about fashion?
I love being able to express something about myself through fashion. I think you make a good point – fashion can be very fun but it can also be serious and intellectual and make us question ideas of identity and our humanity as well. This seems like a lot to ask of fashion! But fashion is so deeply connected to history and the history of the world that it would be incorrect to dismiss it as frivolous because if we look at the passage of time, clothing can tell us so much. In this era of fast fashion I often wonder what will endure and which labels we will value.

Art and fashion are so inextricably linked, however often people make the assumption that art gives validation to fashion, what is your take on this? And do you think fashion’s fast pace and commerciality contribute to this thought?
I think the relationship between art and fashion is mutually beneficial. Because fashion is so fast and changing and cyclical the engagement with art affords it a longevity and legacy that it might not otherwise enjoy. In this regard art lends fashion a gravity it has been perceived to be lacking. Art benefits from fashion by virtue of the exposure the relationship garners. There is no doubt that fashion’s love of art has exposed the careers of some artists in a manner they would never have anticipated.

It Hangs with Rattlesnakes and Rubbish is showing at PLAY until 27 March 2016 at BLINDSIDE. More details here.

It Hangs with Rattlesnakes and Rubbish

PLAY, BLINDSIDE

Review by Vanessa Gerrie

PLAY is BLINDSIDE gallery’s in-house and online video space, which dedicates itself to exhibiting experimental video art from local and international artists. For Virgin Australia Melbourne Fashion Festival, Alison Kubler guest-curates the space exhibiting multimedia artist Chantal Fraser’s 2013 work It Hangs with Rattlesnakes and Rubbish. The fusion of art and fashion come together in a work that comments on clothing and costume’s innate power and influence in how we look at identity and theories around women and dress.

One piece of clothing is used in the work as an object of costume that challenges cultural stereotypes in reference to traditional adornment. We as humans tend to project an identity and a narrative upon people based on their dress, and Chantal adventures to challenge this status quo. The ambiguously patterned scarf is draped around a female figure that stands stoically in a sublime landscape. It is a seemingly surreal setting that is entirely real; tall wind turbines stretch in the barren background below mountainous rock. This juxtaposed setting subverts our first expectation by surprising us and gaining our curiosity before we take a deeper look at the ramifications of our own projections.

The film is diced into silent segments. Each segment shoots the central figure from a different angle, the bit of cloth or scarf draped differently and dramatically around her body with every shift. The segments build up to a crescendo that involves the addition of sound, we hear the wind whipping at the women’s scarf making it cling and shift around her body. The image evokes the sublime however it also creates a mystery. Who is she? We never see her face fully; her identity is literally tied up in her dress. We make presumptions about what her cultural and racial background might be. We associate scarves with Middle Eastern women and their concealment, is this her identity? It could also be a brightly coloured lavalava, commonly worn by both men and women alike in the pacific islands. The fact is, we don’t know: there is no cultural specificity and that is the exact point. In manipulating this form of dress, Chantal dismantles traditional stereotypes we frequently and unconsciously try and place on people, particularly women.

The manipulation of dress to subvert the viewer’s expectation in Chantal’s piece reminds me of the way artist Shigeyuki Kihara often uses clothing in her work to rebuff audiences’ stereotypes of her gender and cultural identity.

It Hangs with Rattlesnakes and Rubbish alludes to this concept and is a poetic analysis of the viewer’s perception of race and gender through clothing and costume. It challenges us to think about why we are so judgemental when it comes to these everyday adornments and how clothing is so wrapped up in identity, whether that be cultural, racial or gender based. As Alison Kubler states, “It contains ideas that are gently embedded”, and it is up to us to unravel these and let them sit on our consciousness and question our everyday judgments and assumptions surrounding identity and clothing.

Check out Chantal’s beautiful work here or stop by BLINDSIDE gallery to see it in person in the curated space until 27 March 2016.

Body/Hair

Neon Parlour

Review by Jessica Gregory

If you thought VAMFF was over, it is time to reconsider. There are plenty more events to visit if you know where to look. For instance, you’ve still got until the 19th of March to check out Body/Hair at the Neon Parlour in Thornbury – and boy, you’ll be glad you did.

The show is a collaborative effort by a talented group of eight multi-disciplinary makers. At the head of the group is local artist John Gosper, who describes Body/Hair and its aims to: “Explore perspectives of the body through various artistic mediums.”

Body/Hair officially launched on Saturday night, March 12, with viewers invited to enjoy a glass of bubbly and wander through the intimate exhibition space at Neon Parlour. All eight artists were present, chatting with fellow creatives and visitors alike, discussing the work on display. It is perhaps prudent to provide a warning before the content of this show is discussed further. Body/Hair uses a particularly blunt and often confronting form of communication featuring graphic material that may not be for everyone.

The works on display are as diverse as their makers. Viewers walk past Jasmine Moston’s A3-sized pink tapestry that simply reads, “Tuff Titties” that’s followed by a room dedicated to a sculptural mirror form and wall mirrors by Sarah Hopper. A pedestal showcasing the work of Aislin McTavish stands alone on one side of the space, upon which an excessive amount of hair sits beneath casts of vaginas, a lemon, salt and a fork in an almost shrine-like manner. This piece contrasts again against Lish Barraud’s elegant, flowing form hanging from the roof, made entirely from beige elastic bands. As a viewer, the curation makes for a rather unusual experience and I, for one, walked out with feelings of uncertainty. Body/Hair stands out in its presentation and content and it is by evaluating the reasons for this that the viewer can then appreciate its beauty. Why aren’t we exposed to such physically graphic and unapologetic art regularly?

Gosper’s team make strong statements critiquing our society. By using the body as a platform, Body/Hair is able to express the artists’ opinions on social hierarchies and how this affects self-expression, the beautiful versus the grotesque and the desire to be rid of antiquated views on gender binaries. When asked about his cultural commentary, Gosper describes it as “soft activism”, with a stronger focus on beginning a conversation rather than actively opposing social norms. Gosper acknowledges that his work is not always universally adored but states that the drive to create more art keeps him going. “Sometimes the feedback is good, sometimes it’s bad, but it always makes you strive to make more and get better”, he says.

Although the show may not be everyone’s cup of tea, its themes are relevant to every single human on this earth. Gosper and his fellow artists raise essential issues surrounding gender and restriction within our society and attempt to normalise what is stigmatised. For many, Body/Hair will be the start of the conversation but with any luck, it will not be the end.

Body/Hair runs until 19 March 2016 at Neon Parlour. More details here.

In the heart of the Melbourne CBD at the RMIT Design Hub, there is a spectacle to behold in the form of Martino Gamper’s culturally reflective exhibition. The multi-disciplinary designer hailing from Italy has brought with him his internationally acclaimed travelling project, 100 Chairs in 100 Days. The title explains the basic premise of the project; Gamper has indeed made 100 chairs within the restricted time of 100 days. However, there are many more fascinating details to uncover about Gamper’s ethics and design practice than the title facilitates.

The exhibition space at the RMIT Design Hub is open and high-ceilinged. At first, it seems as though a Wizard-of-Oz-esque tornado has whizzed through the vast floor space, scattering objects in its wake; a guitar and a bike seat here, a floating apparatus over there. In truth, these ‘found objects’ are what make up the bodies of Gamper’s vastly different chairs. The chairs are so completely unique that they are only united in the fact that they can all function as a chair (although visitors are carefully instructed not to test this out). Viewers are free to navigate their own way through the maze of chairs, marvelling at the sensational imagination of the artist behind them. Gamper makes all original pre-conceptions of what constitutes a chair fly quickly out of the window.

Why chairs? A chair seems like something practical, with its primary feature lying not in aesthetics or ornamentation but in its functionality as a seat. Gamper, however, considers the chair differently. In the event program, the exhibition curator Fleur Watson interviews Gamper who elaborates on the meaning of the chair; “It holds our weight and responds to our bodies, it can become symbolic of who we are, […] our style, age and preferences.” Gamper’s chairs contain even more hidden meaning due to the fact that they are completely made up of found, disregarded objects, including old chairs.

This brings up the next theme engrained so eloquently within Gamper’s work: the importance of the process. By using thrown-out old chairs, Gamper is able to deconstruct the chair or object, discover its initial construction and purpose and then re-contextualise this information within his own parameters. His work consequently becomes traceable, making the process equal in importance to the final product. This idea is reflected within the exhibition space where, above the sea of chairs, hangs a screen showing footage of Gamper during the creation process.

It is interesting to consider Gamper’s show under the umbrella of VAMFF. In using found objects and providing them with new life, Gamper is exploring the significance of the cyclical opposites of old and new and making and un-making. In discussing these dualities he references the entire concept of fashion (not simply clothing) and in particular, the issue of fast-fashion and consumerism. Gamper touches upon this aspect of his work, stating; “As consumers, we buy, use and then – when we find something we like better – we release objects for new ones. Chairs seem to go through this evolution very quickly.”

Prior to its display in Melbourne, 100 Chairs in 100 Days has travelled through countries including England, Japan, Greece and France and at each stop Gamper gifted his final personalised flourish; the 100^th chair. Each 100th chair is influenced by the city in which it is created and now Melbourne has one of its own. Sticking with his ‘found object’ approach, Gamper called upon the local community to hand over their pre-loved objects to be re-interpreted and immortalised within the chair. Melbourne’s own 100^th chair consists of a timber and steel spine (courtesy of a Presbyterian parish in Williamstown), legs and a back from a damaged plywood chair (thanks to local architect, Sean Godsell) and a wooden seat sourced from offcuts found at RMIT University.

Gamper has woven an incredible tale within his 100 chairs that needs to be told. Tomorrow as you go to throw out your old newspaper or disregard your worn-out t-shirt, think about Martino Gamper and make a ‘chair’ (or a hundred) for yourself.

100 Chairs in 100 Days runs until 9 April 2016 at the RMIT Design Hub. More details here.

After an informative seminar at ACMI about Fashion Narratives on Film [read Maria’s review of the Masterclass: Fashion Narratives on Film here] I spoke to Kristy Barber and Tim White about working together and their experiences in fashion and beyond.

So Kristy, Why do you think your main focus is fashion?
Kristy Barber: I don’t really have an answer for that, there was never a light bulb moment where I was like, “fashion is what I was meant to be doing”, and I wasn’t one who was three and knew I wanted to be a fashion designer. I kinda came to it because I was always creative and I always wanted to build things or make things. Not to build a house, but to actually create things physically. I went to try to study Psychology, so I was completely on the wrong track after High School. I just started making clothes for myself and I just really loved it, and I loved it so much I felt like I could make it into my life, and yeah I went on to study then continue it. I’m not really drawn to fashion for fashion’s sake at all. I’m drawn to it for the craft and I’m really interested in the politics and the emotion behind it. In terms of the fashion industry I’m not really interested in that at all. I think that is why Kuwaii is such a different brand, I have such a different perspective on it than most other fashion-type brands.
Tim White: Someone told me the other day that you got into fashion for the champagne.
Kristy: [Laughs] Now and then it doesn’t hurt.

Is there any reason you think you chose to establish your brand in Brunswick?
Kristy: It’s so intrinsically linked to me as a person, but also born out of necessity because we weren’t a business that had a massive amount of money so that’s what we could afford. That’s why we are on a weird side street because that’s what we can afford. But that shop in Brunswick is our spiritual home and it’s so successful.
Tim: I remember meeting in the Brunswick store many years ago and the people, this was before the city store opened, would drive from all the way down from the south side to just see the store.
Kristy: Yeah it became a destination-al retail space which is really hard to do and we did it by accident.

Did the two of you ever clash with ideas especially at the start?
Kristy: No we never clashed at the start.
Tim: We are both pretty chill.
Kristy: There was one time in the last film we did where the music became really stressful, the guy didn’t deliver.
Tim: We both wanted different things out of the music as well. I wanted one pretty weird idea and Kristy thought it was a bit too far so I had to try and pull it back.
Kristy: And then we had the guy actually not delivering so it became a bit of a difficult situation.
Tim: But we have never fought.
Kristy: Although Tim’s sometimes strong willed so I have to try to stand up to him [laughs] […] we both get along so well and I think that why we keep making these.
Tim: […] We have a really nice back and forth and a really nice relationship

What is your favourite film out of the ACMI Fashion Film Series this year?
Tim: The one that is in the swimming pool [Strangers in a Moment, Radioactive Gigantism Films]. My friends Andrew and Ramona and some of my other friends were in the crew. I think that it is a great film and they did a great job and hearing some of the challenges they faced reminded me of the challenges we faced in shooting Near the Light so they were shooting on a hot day in this empty swimming pool but they had a huge cap [cover] on top to block out the direct sunlight but inside the pool it would have been about 55 degrees so they had to shoot for two minutes at a time before the camera would overheat.
Kristy: Oh my god, why do we do it? But I also liked the other winning one [Shadow / Self, Laura Scrivano] so there was three winning ones. There was ours, CHORUS [designers of Strangers in a Moment] and […] Spender that incorporated dance. It reminded me about Near the Light just because it was very experimental movement and quite weird movement.