Wearable Art

'You'll always find people who say art is only on canvas,' says Mitch Philips, textile designer, 'however I would say that fashion is in fact one of the most beautiful and inclusive art forms out there'

We are sitting in the square on a gloriously sunny day in Carcassonne and watching the skirts and dresses float by and Mitch is showing me photos of a kimono she has designed and made.

She has given me a sample of the material; finest silk, dip-dyed and scrunch-dryed in a wide array of pinks and oranges, with a beautiful gold and red leaf pattern. 'I used real chestnut leaves to make the template,' she says, describing the process of screen printing used to make the kimono.

She then points to the arms, off which there dangle red strands of silken thread sparkling with pearl drop beads. 'They're tears,' she explains. 'I wanted to create a piece of clothing which told the story of Madame Butterfly. The delicacy of the fabric represents the heroine and the tear drops on the arms show her heartbreak.'

Looking more closely at the kimono I see that the arms of the robe hang off the model like butterfly wings. It is only the heaviness of the beads, her tears, which are stopping her taking flight, Suddenly the emotional impact of the kimono hits me and I am amazed by the garment's pathos and tragedy.

People dismiss fashion so easily as a pretty fluffy frivolity, yet like great literature, great music, great paintings and sculptures, fashion can tell stories, can express emotion, can have depths not at once apparent. As in a piece of music, the silk of the kimono becomes the soft lilting background melody while the leaf pattern is a leitmotif. At parts the motif is busy, many leaves overlap noisily and chaotically in shimmering gold and blood red, while in other parts the pattern is barely there and the gorgeous material is all that is visible, catching the light in the same way as a clear lake reflecting the trees in autumn.

'Wearable art is amazing,' continues Mitch, 'as it allows people not only to see art but also to become it.' I instantly understand what she means. As a young teenager I used to wander round galleries and flick through art books longing not only to see but also to become the art. I wanted to be Boticelli's Venus swathed in golden hair, Dali's Leda seduced by the swan or Bernini's Daphne throwing back her pale marble neck as she sprouted leaves from her fingers and roots from her toes.

When I studied Ovid's Metamorphoses at school I was fascinated by the transformations the characters underwent and wished that I too was able to morph into different shapes, to sprout wings and fly too close to the sun like Icarus or to become a glitteringly tragic constellation like the nymph Calisto. Somehow these magical transformations seemed to make the pain experienced by the characters worthwhile, desirable even. Talking to Mitch I realise that wearable art makes these adolescent fantasies realisable.

When I get home I type 'Wearable art' into Google and find the site of designer, Claire Prebble, whose wearable art work, Perelandra, is strikingly reminiscent of Daphne's metamorphosis. The model wears a skirt like the roots of a tree falling from the top of her legs to the ground, on one of her shoulders perches a large pink dragon fly and her head dress is elaborately crafted in the shape of branches and tiny leaves. The entire design is made of recycled copper, glass beads and tissue paper, and the result is magnificent. It is one of the most incredible sculptures I have ever seen and it is even more fantastic because at the centre of it stands a living woman.

Another work by Claire Prebble is entitled, Hot With Gossip, a sizzling pink creation of recycled clothing and curtains, decorated with fine beads and accesorised with an elaborate black fan. The vivacity of the costume perfectly captures the bubbly sense of excitement which comes with youth while the fan shows the yearning for adult sophistication felt by the artist who models the outfit. Remarkably Prebble created this costume when only eleven years old.

Yet even more amazingly, Prebble's first creation Peach Blossom was made out of handed down fabrics and clothes given by friends when the artist was only nine. On Prebble's website the artist says that her inspiration for the piece was, 'being a nine year old girl with a love of dressing up.' Thankfully Prebble's love of dressing up has never died, it has only become more complex, intricate and sophisticated. Her art is a way of realising childhood fantasies of remarkable transformations, of making Ovid's Metamorphoses come true.

Thanks to The World of Wearable Art, New Zealand, for permission to use the image of Claire Prebble's creation.

World of Wearable Art
Claire Prebble

Hidden Song

Hey people, here's my first post, it's an interview with singer, pianist and composer Vanessa Knight....

Vanessa Knight is as yet relatively unknown singer and songwriter,  yet she hopes this will soon change. Her Edinburgh run, two nights in the  Rat Pack, was a sell-out success and on the second night she performed  her own songs, for the first time in front of a live audience. She  admits that this was 'scary' but it added 'I've loved it, absolutely  loved it, everyone [in Edinburgh] has been so welcoming.'

I  arranged to meet her to do this interview after being blown away by her  live performance 'Hidden Song,' where she debuted such tracks as the  beautifully impassioned 'Lay Down Your Devils On Me' and the  heart-rending yet mathematically precise love song 'Circles'.  Reminiscent in style to Camille O'Sullivan she performed with a pair of  pale stiletto heels propped on top of the shiny grand piano. 'Oh that's  because I can't play the piano in high heels,' she explains 'it's so  important to be able to feel the pedals, but they're such beautiful  shoes, it feels sad not to have them on display.'

As we  sit over a table in Biblos, one of the few none crowded bars we could  find, she tells me about her life as a musician and her ambitions for  the future. She's been writing songs since she was a tiny child, and she  laughs as she tells me that she won a Blue Peter badge aged six for a  song she sent in. She is a classically trained musician, with a degree  in Music and Drama from Birmingham University, but she never really  thought she'd make it as a musician until she graduated and was offered a  job singing in nightclubs in Scandinavia- 'I never knew that singing  was a real job until that point,' she says, 'that this was something  which I could do full time and make a living from.' Since then she has  travelled round Europe playing and singing in different clubs.

I  find Vanessa surprisingly easy to talk to, possibly as we are the same  age and both recent graduates, so I know what she's getting at when she  says 'I was going to go into advertising or some other graduate job, not  because I wanted to, just because, well, you know, you think that's  what you've got to do.'

When talking about what she does,  she admits that she doesn't like to stick to one category 'Every genre  has something incredible in it, Ilike to mix it up a bit,' - hence why  she mixes bits of Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms and Radiohead in with her  own music.'Genre doesn't matter,' she says, waving a porcelain hand  dismissively over the table ' the most important thing in music is that  it's sincere'.

She's also interested in bringing  mathematics to to music 'there was a movement called serialism around  the beginning of the twentieth century, all about using mathematical  codes and sequences to generate music...it's very interesting, but it  doesn't always sounds fantastic, however one day I would love to write a  piece that is perfectly mathematical but at the same time sounds good  and means something.'

The idea of music having meaning is a  subject which Vanessa returns to again and again, 'I try to write about  things other than love...it makes for fantastic songs but it's too easy  to write oh-my-heart-is-breaking-and-I-think-I'll-die sort of things.'  This perhaps explains her wide repertoire of song which touch on s  subjects such as supporting an unstable but lovely friend (Lay Down Your  Devils On Me) to a song about the wonder of a big city (London Lights).  At present she is trying to choose which song to make the lead single  on the full length album, which she hopes to bring out early next year.  She asks my advice and I tell her that my favourite is Lay Down Your  Devils. She thanks me and then tells me that she hopes to have her music  on spotify within the next couple of months. 'It's always difficult to  finish anything as an artist though,' she says 'you know how it is, you  always think you can tweak it a little, make it that little bit  better..'

I know what she means, however I think her music is great as it is, and she certainly deserves recognition.

 And here is a link to Vanessa's website for those who wish to know more - http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/pages/Vanessa-Knight/323819526810