Of course, you know of the perfume called Chanel No. 5. Did you know that Coco Chanel created the fragrance at the start of the Roaring ’20s and did you know that it is the top-selling fragrance in the world? (Aren’t you glad you read this column? Look at all the important information you learn!) Something I never thought I’d see at the austere Metropolitan Museum of Art – a Chanel exhibition. I’m not sure it belongs there, but then again I’m not a curator.
The Chanel show includes no biographical references about the orphan girl whose life was an embroidery of lies. She created herself in the same way that she created her amazingly contemporary costumes, jewelry, makeup, etc. The Chanel show at the Met is a show for the fashion maven. My granddaughter, Melissa, would love it.
I do have a small, disorienting problem with the wonderful Met. Getting a little bit lost seems inevitable to me. I’m always overwhelmed by its size and scope. Here’s a scoop if you decide to see the Chanel exhibition: To get a peek into Coco’s closet you don’t have to go to the customary, claustrophobic confines of the ground-level Costume Institute. The Chanel show is mounted in the Met’s first-floor gallery. It’s a lively, fawning, presentation, although the labels are far too low to the ground for any adult to read without straining – then again, you might be more agile than I am.
This is not a chronological retrospective. For example, it features 63 outfits grouped together by iconic looks. Her signature suits are presented – one with a skirt that hits below the knee, one at the knee, and a micro-mini skirt. She had the ability to create clothes that women feel good about wearing regardless of age, season or trend. Chanel’s work resonates in the present. Just the name conveys prestige, quality, impeccable taste and unmistakable style. Her fashion lives on even though she’s not here.
By the way, when you exit the Met exhibition, you are forced to pass a Chanel-related gift shop that will tempt your pocket. Resist!
P.S. Chanel couldn’t have bought better publicity.
The festival’s size is intimidating: 250 films. With such abundance, what is a poor movie-lover to do! I read through the printed program and picked two. Frequently being an escapist, both were feel-good choices – and both are now enjoying a well-earned wide distribution.
If you’re an Anglophile you’ll adore “Ladies in Lavender.” Even if you’re not, you’ll enjoy the impeccable acting by two dames: Dame Judi Dench and Dame Maggie Smith. The film’s story is charming and sweetly melancholic (is that an oxymoron?). “Ladies in Lavender” involves pent-up feelings of motherly affection, jealousy, and, yes, erotic passion. The two great actresses are an acting tour de force. The story is far-fetched: A handsome stranger is washed up on their shore and he turns out to be – you’ll never guess – a violin virtuoso! My musical mom would have adored both the two dames and the romantic score played magnificently by Joshua Bell. I certainly did.
My second lucky choice was screened at Stuyvesant High School (in a beautiful auditorium). It’s a documentary and you’ll be surprised at its theme: a ballroom dancing (yes, ballroom – not rap) competition by New York City school children. The public schools have mandated ballroom dance classes for some fourth and fifth grade classes. “Mad Hot Ballroom” follows three elementary schools as they compete with mounting interest, panic and excitement for a ballroom dance trophy. It was great fun watching a new generation learning to swing as they rumbaed and merengued their way at a citywide ballroom dance competition – filmed at the Winter Garden in the World Financial Center. I hope the dance classes continue. All in favor say “Aye.” Right on – not rock on! I’m in favor of “Mad Hot Ballroom.”
The artist (1796-1872) appeared to have a mission – to record American Indian life and culture before it was obliterated by our country’s territorial expansion. Completed, Catlin’s project was an amazing feat. On display are masterly portraits of Indians, fine landscapes and scenes of tribal life. There’s a complicated story attempting to explain why Catlin, born in Pennsylvania and trained as a lawyer, fixated on Indians. He regarded his picture making as documentary in nature, painting with speed to capture what he considered a dying Indian culture. And his paintings do contribute to our understanding of the American culture and the culture of the Native American.
“George Catlin and his Indian Gallery” is on view through Sept. 5 and admission is free. If you go and have kiddies to take, you all will enjoy seeing this exciting, colorful, artistic record of American Indian life. It will be a remarkable experience for you and for them too.
June Sturz can be reached at intunejune@optonline.net