With this
work I have recreated and inserted myself into the pictorial space and
psychological setting of Isidor Kaufmann's The Friday Night,
a painting from the early 1900's now in the permanent collection of
the Jewish Museum (New York). Wearing a paper dress sewn from a dressmaker's
paper pattern in the style of fancy evening wear, I engaged in the process
of un-stitching and re sewing the pattern pieces to form a blanket in
which I then wrapped myself. One of the questions central to this work
is "How is it that we endlessly continue to conduct our lives in the
patterns, even despite the patterns, of our heritage - individual and
collective?"
The
original painted image Friday Evening "depicts a lone woman seated
beside a table prepared for the inauguration of the Sabbath. The two
lit candles flickering on the heavily starched table linen indicate
that she has already invoked the blessing which begins the Sabbath.
One assumes that the sitter awaits the return of her husband from synagogue.
The isolation of the sitter in Friday Evening is typical of Kaufmann's
treatment of the religiously devout. These individuals at first seem
rapt in their ritual observance. Yet their eyes are diverted from their
spiritual mission and from the viewer. They are lost in a reverie which
turns away from the material world toward the inner world of mysterious,
often unresolved emotions."
"The model
for the interior of this painting was the Sabbath Room designed by Kaufmann
for the Old Jewish Museum of Vienna. On the wall in the background,
we see the very typical mirror also shown at the Jewish Museum which
reflects the Sabbath still life. Kaufmann's painting remained unfinished."
Clothing's
role is "to display a unified identity while in reality holding together
an always fragmented self. This is the self, or a self at least, that
is exposed as coverings are removed... exposing what is constructed
and perceived to be (the dress) as what really is; an envelope, an empty
fragile shell with its covering function nevertheless intact. I don't
want to know how it would be like to wear this dress. I take that back.
I had forgotten that I knew, from endless childhood afternoons of tissue
paper pattern battles. Fitting a paper dress means pinning against the
skin, risking the occasional pricking, a manoeuvre taken with great
care, for the pattern must go back into it's envelope ensuing the least
of all possible damage, to be sewn again, as if for the first time.
Depending on the fabric chosen, and the manipulation of the cut, you
can make a very different dress, for a very different occasion, for
a very different self, from the same pattern. And, consequently, another
tale."
1
From a descriptive text by Norman Kleeblatt, Curator of Collections
at the Jewish Museum,New York, 1985.
2
From the catalogue Isidor Kaufmann 1853-/ 1921 edited by G. Tobias
Natter. JudischesMuseum de Stadt Wien, 1995.
3
From an essay entitled A Dwelling Place by Colette Sparkes, (unpublished,
Montreal), 1997.