Interview with Pascale Gatzen: Fashion + Sustainability—Lines of Research Series

by Mae Colburn

A student's response to Jean Luc Nancy's Being Singular Plural from Pascale Gatzen's class of the same name, Fall 2010.

Pascale Gatzen: Sustainability has to do with awareness, with love, with wellbeing, with the realization that we are creating this world together.  It’s about exploring what we can be and who we can be, about connecting to a sense of play, pleasure, love, care, to a place where we value each other, where we see and are seen by others, and where we are willing to share, to be vulnerable, to be courageous.  

Pascale Gatzen describes her position at Parsons' School of Design Strategies as that of a facilitator, nourishing “a productive flow of energy” between students.  She isn’t interested in perpetuating disciplinary distinctions, social constructions, or the capitalist paradigm.  She’s motivated by love, which for her involves movement, exchange, and relationships. Her logic stems from the realization, after years working in fashion and art, that creative production is too often motivated by insecurity and the need to prove oneself.  Her focus now lies on the relational aspects of fashion, on alternative models of exchange.  She describes student projects that include gifting, bartering, trading – models that explicitly forge a sense of proximity, immediacy, mutuality between people, between materials.  For Gatzen, sustainable fashion is about nourishing a productive flow, motivated by love, of clothes, ideas, and identities.

Mae Colburn: You, and others, often use the words ‘love’ ‘play’ and ‘beauty’ to describe your practice.  How did you develop this relationship to fashion?

PG: Growing up, I was interested in the idea of clothing, and fashion eventually became the focus of my education.  I didn’t understand the notion of fashion practiced at that time.  I didn’t see any real progress, or any movement.  I didn’t see the difference between a shirt that was produced in one kind of cloth one season, and in another kind of cloth the second season.  For me, they were the same shirt.  I can’t say that my work was necessarily playful at that time, but I did at that time become aware that love was very important to me, that it brought me the most life energy, and that the closer I stayed to myself and to my own fascinations, the more vibrant my work would be.

Later, when I started teaching at Arnhem [ArtEZ, Hogeschool voor de Kunsten, Arnhem], I discovered that with the introduction of H&M and Zara, students had stopped touching their own clothes.  There was this illusion that because they had access to fashionable clothes (which they could buy, because they were cheap), they were participating in fashion.  So I started doing assignments with students that were very much about dressing.  They had to dress themselves; they had to dress each other.  They had to experiment with the notion of clothing, the power of dressing, which is a very vulnerable process.  We have a lot of investment in how we dress and how we see ourselves, but something beautiful happens when we move beyond our comfort zones and everybody starts to feel vulnerable at the same time.  Things become less absolute, less fixed, and people begin to feel a sense of play with their clothes and identities.

MC: On the Parsons' website, you're quoted as saying that you want students to “test the intersection between fashion and reality.”  What do you mean by this?

PG: If I said ‘reality,’ I was probably referring to habituated reality.  We live in this seemingly fixed reality, or at least we think we can trust certain things around us.  With clothes, most people identify with a certain style, and they gain confidence from what they think they are and how they present themselves to the world.  I did a workshop once where I compared the work of Coco Chanel to the work of Yves St. Laurent.  If you really look at the work of Coco Chanel and see how it’s made – her attention to the make and finishing of the garment was amazing; how the lining was quilted into the jacket, the small metal chain against the back hem to weigh the jacket down, ever so lightly, the lack of interlining and shoulder pads, the way the sleeves fit into the body of the jacket allowing for movement and comfort – it’s very much about the person wearing the piece of clothing rather than the clothing as image, which is what I see on the catwalk and what Yves St. Laurent never escaped.  Even if it’s an image of comfortable clothing, his clothing remains mostly image.  Catherine Deneuve is quoted as saying that that you can wear Yves St. Laurent under any social situation because you’re protected, but I think Coco Chanel would say that clothing shouldn’t take up all the attention, that it should allow a woman to emerge as herself.

How do you engage the world?  Do you engage in the world from a position of curiosity or do you engage in the world from a sense of fixed reality in which you have to protect yourself from everything that can happen?  For me, of course, the first is more interesting and has a lot more potential for growth.

MC: Could you describe a workshop or project that you’ve done that encompasses these notions of curiosity, play, love – one that you’re particularly proud of?

I’ve done many projects and I always feel they’re very special.  For instance, I worked one summer, as part of the Parsons' DEED project, in Guatemala, with five students and two artisan women’s cooperatives, Ajkem’a Loy’a and Barco in San Lucas Toliman.  The beauty of that was being together for a month and seeing those students for who they are, completely.  There was so much love between all of us.  They were so focused – taking care of each other and taking care of me – and very responsible towards the work we were doing.  There was a fullness of experience, of exchange.

That’s something that I also felt when I did an intensive program in DasArts, a post-graduate program in The Netherlands for theater and performing arts.  They don’t have a fixed program; they have a sequence of different artists come in and do three-month intensive workshops with twelve students.  We spent whole days together.  We cooked together, ate together, and were living and learning together.  I structured our days so that we did yoga together in the morning and had singing lessons three times a week.  There was a real exchange of knowledge, of experiencing together, of going through rough moments and very amazing moments.  I love the notion of life becoming part of teaching, teaching becoming part of life.

I also created a sequence of core classes, what is now known as the Fashion Area of Study in the Integrated Design program in Parsons, and the third core class, Love, is really about this, about students recognizing that fashion is not an isolated practice.  It’s about integrating that practice in your everyday life, where they live, how they eat, and in exchanges with friends.  That’s the most important thing I can imagine teaching to my students, and teaching with my students, because a lot of them just naturally understand these things.  […] The traditional notion of learning involves a hierarchy between the teacher (who has the knowledge) and the student (who doesn’t have the knowledge).  I think that’s the first assumption that we have to abolish if we want to grow a different type of world.  Everybody possesses knowledge, which is of value to us all.  I know knitting, I know sewing, I know patternmaking, but I’m much more interested in seeing students teach each other how to knit.  If the students are teaching, then they understand that they have the ability to teach and grow and that’s what will support them when they’re out in the world.  I think that’s the most important lesson: that they can always learn, always grow.  And teaching and learning, growing are definitely not confined to the classroom.

A "singing blanket" that student Daniel Anesiadou made for a public event at DasArts in Amsterdam in spring 2005.

MC: What kind of theoretical background do you share with your students?

My teaching is very much about experience, but I do include some theory in class.  Last semester I wanted my students to understand the capitalist paradigm, so we read Marx and Being Singular Plural by Jean Luc Nancy, and now we’re looking at Hannah Arendt.  We read Erich Fromm, The Art of Loving, and we read The Gift by Lewis Hyde.  We also read and look at the work of Sister Corita.  Those are a few texts that I definitely use, but I don’t overwhelm them with theory.  What I’ve learned in the past is that theory is more easily understood when there’s an experience to accompany the theory.  The most successful theorists speak from a deep engagement with the world around them, and I think that’s very important.

Other people that are very influential to me – the way I think, teach, and practice – are people that I invite to teach. Susan Ciancolio is a very big inspiration for me.  She has been teaching in the Fashion Area of Study for four years.  I also have a very lively connection and exchange with Caroline Woolard, who teaches the barter class [at Parsons], and I’m very happy that Otto von Busch has joined our team.  I’m very inspired by the people that I’m surrounded by.

MC: What do you hope to see your students to achieve in coming years, in fashion and beyond?

PG: At the moment, I think it’s about creating hybrid types of practices, hybrid types of life.  Some of my students who graduated last year formed a business and living cooperative, building a business and growing their own food in a community garden nearby.  If you support students in what they’re strong in, in what they want to do, they become more confident, more capable, more able to master their lives and make informed decisions.

I know from working, and many of my students know from working, that if you are really immersed in a dynamic relationship with your work, you will come up with unexpected insights that will result in unexpected outcomes.  For me, it’s important that we constantly re-invent the forms that we engage with and relate to in order to give other possibilities for life.  That’s what practice is about – constantly advancing the forms, because the forms are only ever temporary, limited, never sufficient for our ever-changing nature.  We are always changing and always in a state of flux so we need to re-invent and continuously open up new possibilities for life to continue.

MC: What do you enjoy most about teaching?

PG: I love the exchange of collaboration, of growing together.  I just think that cooperation is a much more natural way to live than practicing individually.  It’s about care, and love, appreciating and respecting the things that we live with: the people, the objects, everything.

Pascale Gatzen is Associate Professor of the Body Garment Track at the School of Design Strategies at Parsons the New School for Design.

Mae Colburn is an independent textile researcher based in New York City.

Titania Inglis: Fade From Green

By Sarah Scaturro

A favorite look from Titania Inglis' F/W 2012 collection.  Photographer: Dan Lecca

Fashion Projects has been a fan of Titania Inglis ever since she launched her eponymous label a few years ago, so it was such great news to hear that she had won the 2012 Ecco Domani Fashion Foundation Award for Sustainable Design.  While I initially thought of Inglis as an "eco" designer, it quickly became apparent that the term "eco" was simply too reductive for her design philosophy. For her, sustainability is not a gimmick, or just about sourcing yet another ecotextile. Rather, she is moving towards a concept of sustainability that emphasizes longevity, quality, and thoughtfulness.  We are very pleased to present this interview with Inglis, coming on the heels of her recent F/W 2012 fashion presentation at Eyebeam.

Fashion Projects: Congratulations on your recent Ecco Domani Fashion Foundation Award for Sustainable Design.  How has winning the award affected your business?

Titania Inglis: Thank you! Receiving the Ecco Domani award is such a dream come true — I didn’t believe it at first when I received the email telling me I’d won. It’s opened a lot of doors for me already within the fashion industry, and I was able to put together an incredible team for my show this season, including stylist Christian Stroble, makeup artist Lisa Aharon and hairstylist Ramona Eschbach, photographer Aliya Naumoff, set designer Ryan Crozier of Forgotten City — and collaborating on a series of leather body accessories with Bliss Lau, a designer whose innovative work I’ve admired for years.

Inglis making adjustments before her F/W 2012 presentation begins. Photographer: Georgina Southen

Your F/W 2012 collection presented a very cohesive vision, with a strong design vocabulary.  Having followed your work ever since you began designing, I’ve noticed that you’ve developed signature elements. Your garments exhibit a strong affinity for geometry, asymmetry, and minimalism and you also create an unexpected sense of architectural space through your precise pattern-cutting and juxtaposition of rigid and supple fabrics. Can you explain a little bit about your inspirations, techniques and processes? Where did you hone your skills?

My father is an architect, so I grew up steeped in his lessons about architectural movements and polyhedra. As a math major in college, I was fascinated by topology, which studies surfaces and transformations — and I see fashion in much the same way: a transformation of two-dimensional fabric into three-dimensional forms, but forms that interact with the wearer’s body and personal style, and at the same time reference fashion history. Or to put it in less-nerdy terms, I find it magical to be able to go from a flat piece of fabric and a flat paper pattern, to an empty garment on a hanger, to a dress absolutely coming to life when its owner puts it on and imbues it with her personality.

I studied industrial design at California College of the Arts in San Francisco; conceptual design at Design Academy Eindhoven in the Netherlands; and fashion design at FIT. I learned my patternmaking skills from Prof. Evan Blackman, the outstanding menswear department head there, and through internships at Jean Yu and Threeasfour, both designers I loved for their ingenious and endlessly creative patternmaking.

One of Inglis' amazing coats from her F/W 2012 collection.  Photographer: Dan Lecca

You continue to revisit designs, like your circle skirt, from previous seasons.  Is there a reason for this? I personally think that by doing so you are reinforcing the well-designed, thoughtful process behind your clothing – they are so well-made, and “beyond” fashion that they don’t seem to go out of style.

I find that the most stylish women are those who sharply define their personal look and keep it over time, perhaps evolving gradually to stay current, but not changing constantly with the trends. I see my collection in the same light: adding interest from season to season in the form of new colors, patterns, and fabrications, while always retaining its underlying character. And part of that consistency lies in creating signature pieces that carry over from season to season.

Another advantage of bringing designs back is that it allows me the chance to refine them a little each season, as well as to experiment with different fabrications over time. I’ve discovered that my architectural silhouettes tend to work quite well in rigid as well as soft, drapey fabrics, and I love to discover them anew each time I source new fabrics.

Backstage at Titania Inglis' F/W 2012 presentation.  Photographer: Aliya Naumoff

A look from Titania Inglis' F/W 2012 collection.  Photographer: Aliya Naumoff

We often talk about the state of the eco-fashion movement in NYC.  One minute we’re exhilarated about all the new things that are happening, and the next minute we bemoan the fact that it seems like such a small world, where everyone knows everyone and we’re all preaching to the same choir.  Do you think the fact that you are considered an “eco” designer actually helps or hinders you?  Do you ever feel marginalized or misunderstood due to having the “eco” tag attached to you?

To be honest, at this point, the word “eco” really makes me shudder. It’s been so overused that it’s come to represent a marketing gimmick rather than a serious philosophy of doing business, and I wish we could just retire it. I prefer to describe my work as thoughtful design, taking into consideration all the cradle-to-grave implications of each design decision, from the origins of the fabric I’m using to the future use and care of the garment. Ultimately, I believe that a beautifully designed and manufactured garment is the most sustainable thing to make: a piece striking enough to stand out in the here and now, yet classically proportioned and so well-made that its owner will want to wear it for a lifetime.

The most difficult challenge in designing sustainably is finding low-impact fabrics that are high quality and that fit with my clean, androgynous aesthetic. I’ve already traveled to London and Tokyo to source gorgeous organic fabrics, and scoured the New York garment district for dead stock options. And I’ve found some beautiful ones, but the more I search, the more I realize that the production process of the fabric is less important than beautiful craftsmanship and quality that will wear well over time. Taking the long view, production is only one part of the garment’s life cycle. If a fabric is made from organic wool, but pills and wears out almost instantly, then the fact that the farmer polluted less in raising the sheep is completely outweighed by the fact that the end product is quickly headed for the dumpster.

Another difficulty with sustainable design is people’s narrow interpretation of what that means. It’s not possible to design anything to be 100% perfectly sustainable; we all have to choose our battles. Some designers choose to use local production, others organic fabrics, others yet use zero-waste cutting techniques. I’ve had people question my use of leather; but as a lifelong meat eater, I’m happy that the skin from the animals we slaughter is used to make something beautiful. Leather exists mainly as a byproduct of the meat industry, and it’s a beautiful, supple, and long-lasting material that perfectly showcases my simple, architectural designs.

Set design for F/W 2012 presentation. Photographer: Georgina Southen

You've been collaborating quite a bit lately, with people like Bliss Lau and Christian Stroble, and organizations like the Textile Arts Center.  Do you have any other dream collaborators you'd like to work with?

Working with Bliss and Christian this season was an absolute dream; in addition to having very strong fashion visions, they’re both incredibly smart and resourceful and really mentored me through the whole process of organizing a show and creating a larger collection. I’d never worked with a stylist before and was a bit hesitant to let somebody else impose their vision on my work, but Christian’s input really helped take the collection to the next level.

One of my favorite parts of running this line is collaborating with performers in other creative fields. My first season I choreographed a video with three Merce Cunningham dancers, and for last fall’s video I worked with a trapeze artist. Next up, I’d love to collaborate with a musician: There are so many dynamic, inspiring women in rock these days, from Alison Mosshart to Lykke Li to the Dum Dum Girls, and it’d be amazing to see them wearing my clothes!

What is next in store for you?

After all the excitement of the award and last week’s show, I’m taking it easy and waiting to see how sales go before I decide what to do next. Of course, taking it easy is relative; I’m also getting ready for sales, ramping up spring production, and in the back of my mind, starting to plan out the Spring 2013 collection and how I’d like to present it. I already have a couple of favorite new fabrics squirreled away that I’m dying to see made up in some nice architectural shapes. And I’d love to do a shoe collaboration next season...

Photographer: Georgina Southen

Imprint (NYC): The Evolution of Motifs in Fashion

Red Babydoll dress. Jeremy Scott, fall 2009, Photo courtesy of the Jeremy Scott Studio.

I am happy to announce that students at NYU Steinhardt's Visual Culture: Costume Studies Program (some of whom I have taught in the past), in collaboration with Shannon Bell-Price (Associate Research Curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute), have curated an exhibition of contemporary fashion designs. Titled "Imprint (NYC): The Evolution of Motifs in Fashion," it opens January 12.

"Polka-dots, stripes, camouflage, novelty/conversational prints, houndstooth, plaid, animal prints, and “digital rococo” will all be represented in Imprint (NYC) by current and emerging designers from the New York metropolitan area including Thom Browne, Norma Kamali, Diane von Furstenberg, Marc Jacobs, Proenza Schouler, Jeremy Scott, Anna Sui, and Jason Wu."

The exhibition, which runs through February 4 at NYU Rosenberg Gallery, explores the critical history, potent symbolism, and iconic contemporary use of popular motifs in fashion. Imprint (NYC) will have an opening reception Thursday, January 12 from 6 to 8pm. An exhibition symposium will be held Wednesday, January 25 from 6 to 8pm. (preceded by a reception at 5pm). The Rosenberg Gallery is located in NYU’s Barney Building, 34 Stuyvesant St. (between Second and Third Avenues). The exhibition is free and open to the public. Gallery hours: Wednesday through Saturday, 2 to 8pm; Sunday noon to 6pm.

Francesca Granata

Source4Style Simplifies Sourcing, Naturally

Summer Rayne Oakes and Benita Singh launched Source4Style, an online marketplace for independent fashion designers, in October 2010 (see Kimberly Burgas’ August 2010 post). They launched version 2.0 this past week. If the original website proved that sustainable sourcing is possible, the new version does so with style and ease. It’s slick and sumptuous and features an expanded selection of materials (fabric, yarn, buttons, zippers, lace, and trim), ample editorial content, and a robust trends section.

Oakes and Singh founded the website in response to what they saw as the “acute issue” of sourcing sustainable materials. Sustainable sourcing means weighing particulars like color, hand, and drape against social and environmental considerations like wealth distribution and the carbon footprint. These broad considerations require careful vetting and substantial investment, especially when designers source globally, as most do. It’s a rewarding process, but it’s also high risk, meaning that costs are high and returns aren’t guaranteed. Often, sustainability comes at a price.

“For too long,” Singh explained, “designers have had the limited and arduous option of trade shows for sourcing.” Trade shows are multi-day events that take place in cities around the world. Las Vegas. Paris. Tashkent. They’re intense and exciting, but require huge investments of time and money for everyone involved. Oakes cites the statistics: designers spend on average 84% of their time sourcing, and suppliers spend 43% of their marketing budgets on trade shows. These costs trickle down and subtract from resources invested in other aspects of building a collection, like design.

For Oakes and Singh, technology is the obvious solution. On Source4Style, users browse materials and order swatches without spending a cent and members connect directly to suppliers around the world. The site isn’t angling to replace the trade show experience. It simply provides an opportunity for designers and suppliers to re-allocate their time and money, investing in sustainability rather than the status quo.

Sustainability is what counts for Oakes and Singh. “We feel that’s where the industry is trending, and quite personally, that’s what matters to us,” explained Oakes. The pair has been careful to tailor the site accordingly. Designers can perform what Oakes calls “meaningful searches,” based on color, fiber, fabric type, and worldview. One designer might focus on vertical integration. Another might promote women’s cooperatives. A third might advocate for craft preservation, and a forth might champion fair trade. As Oakes explains, the site allows designers to “decide which aspect of sustainability is important to them and what kind of story they’re going to share with their consumer.”

Source4Style doesn’t cheapen sustainability. It simply cuts costs associated with sourcing sustainable material. It supports a production process in which materials and information flow hand-in-hand. It advances a transparent system in which tangible products are imbued with intangible values. And most importantly, it inspires a climate in which fashion becomes an expression of ‘we’ rather than an ‘I.’

“Trends happen every season,” Oakes explained, “but movements are something more systemic.” As the first trends-driven platform for sustainable sourcing, Source4Style ensures that sustainability will remain relevant with every changing season.  It strikes a balance between seasonal and systemic change, and achieves both, naturally.

Summer Rayne Oakes and Benita Singh have been close friends and collaborators since 2004.  They launched Source4Style in 2010 and have remained invested in the project ever since.

Mae Colburn is a freelance textile researcher based in New York City.

A reflection on Absence: Thanos Kyriakides

by Francesca Granata 

Blind Adam, Photos by Yiorgos Mavropoulos

Thanos Kyriakides started Blind Adam in 2007, with the intent of exploring the more poetic and artistic qualities of fashion. His work consists, for the most part, of creating ghostly exoskeleton of garments. Rendered in black wool acrylic thread, his pieces are reminiscent of photographic negatives, thus reading as a meditation on absence and loss. They also speak to the forgotten craft of clothes-making, as they carefully follow the place where the seams would have been, thus reading as a reference to garment construction and pattern-making. Previously to his work with Blind Adam, Thanos worked predominantly as a stylist for magazine editorial, where the careful construction of a perfect vision is paramount. Thus, his current work, in its very quiet and tactile quality—the thread used to construct the ghostly garment refer to the Braille system for the blind—seems an obvious departure from such work.

I met Thanos while in Greece this summer to give a talk about the grotesque in contemporary fashion, in conjunction with Vassilis Zidanakis’s exhibition “Arghhh Monsters in Fashion” at the Benaki Museum in Athens. I was so intrigued by his work that I later checked in with the artist via e-mail….

You started Blind Adam in 2007. What prompted your transition from working in editorial and magazines to doing this more experimental work?

After 17 years in fashion, it was about time for me to find a way to express more esoteric feelings and go beyond the limits of fashion, in order to orient myself towards a more artistic direction.

Your work now has as much more to do with a tactile quality than it does with a visual one, as well as being very time consuming. Could you describe your process, and the way in which you construct your pieces?

Yes, that's true. The process has two stages: it starts by taking double acrylic wool thread, which is the material I always use, and making knots along its length. The result is something that is reminiscent of a chaplet or a "connect the dots" game. After having made miles of this, I pass onto the construction of a piece by assembling the hand-knotted threads.

If I understand your work correctly, you use wool thread to create an exoskeleton of a garment, as the thread follows the lines of where the garment’s seams would have been. In some ways, your work reads like the ghost of a garment, where all the cloth has left and only the silhouette of seams remains. As a result, your work suggests, at least to me, an absence—the absence of the body, but also of the cloth, which is meant to represent that body. Would you agree? This certain feeling of melancholia, past and memory is perhaps most obvious in your pieces that make references to historical pieces, such as the jacket with epaulettes.

Exactly! One could say that it is the bare of the bare minimum or a metaphor, but of course the structural form of the clothes is present in a ghostly way. This is especially true of the pieces that represent the garment’s skeletons. There is a strong reference to the "Emperor's New Clothes" tale.

I was also wondering why you chose such a limited palette (of black and white)? Again, perhaps I am projecting, but your pieces also remind me of shadows.

Yes indeed, a shadowy, ghostly effect was intended. Aside from that, black on white gives the desirable graphic contrast, reminding of a sketch with black pen on white paper, that becomes 3D.

I was wondering if you could speak about your recent string installations. Did you mean to create a map of the room? I know your work often has to do with measuring distance through the use of equidistant knot on the thread you use. Is the installation a continuation of this?

The installation is called "Incommunicado" and my intention was to create a symbolic tower of Babel. The piece was adjusted according to the room's dimensions as I intended for the installation to have a claustrophobic spider-web effect. What I forgot to mention earlier is that the knotted thread that I use, also refers to the Braille system for the blind so you could say that it represents a form of language. The meaning of this piece is that human conversation has a minimum point of contact and then spreads to undetermined directions until it meets again for a split second and so on, creating thus a communicating maze.

Finally, I was wondering if a shift from a medium that is more closely related to image/distance and vision, such as fashion photography, to one that involves tactility, making and a more intimate/close connection to the object, is something that came about as a result in your change in vision? And if so, how?

Yes, it certainly affected this transition but not in a compelling way. With this project I wanted to combine various influences, references, ideas, esoteric needs and of course to set questions on fundamental issues that have been always puzzling humanity.