Crystal Castles

MANILA, Philippines - Clothing, without nuance, can seem like mere surface. A dress is a dress is a dress, after all — until context begins, and the folds start to take over. Then, It becomes more than “just a dress”; suddenly, it’s fashion.

The mode of the times, the zeitgeist of an epoch, its history and its people — garments, at their most potent — can define an era.

Clothes that capture layer upon layer of a specific reality — that capacity, be it a political comment or a reflection of society, is what we celebrate when we talk about what fashion can be, what fashion can do.

It’s an idea visual artist Liv Vinluan explores in her most recent work “Ang Cabilógan ng Isang Cuadránggúlo,” a piece featured in the group exhibition “Exposition” at the Lopez Museum and Library. “This piece is pivotal for me,” shares Liv, “a turning point for my art practice.” Having built her oeuvre on mostly 2D work, the artist departs from her usual medium of canvas and paper, taking a page from the realm of soft sculpture. “Ang Cabilógan ng Isang Cuadránggúlo” takes the shape of a dress, a silhouette from the 1880s (hand-sewn and machine finished by the artist herself) lit from beneath, set atop a pedestal.

Inspired by the Flora de Filipinas and the structure and colonial history of the Palacio de Cristal, “Cabilógan” is a blusa Filipina in cheesecloth, trimmed with guipure lace, paired with an undulating crinoline, ruffled with gauze.

On the surface, the fabrication is reminiscent of piña with a fluted Filipiniana silhouette — an outward homage to the mode of the 19th-century Filipina. But upon closer inspection, the blusa is cinched together with the Western underpinnings of lacing and grommets; the skirt appears to balloon away from the body in swoops and curves, but the waist is caged within an underbelly of ribbing and bone. 

“That’s why the title is ‘Ang Cabilógan ng Isang Cuadránggúlo,’ because you are essentially shaping the body when you wear these pieces, you are coercing the body into something that it is not,” shares Liv. “I looked at what was the style of the 1880s, what was in vogue — a tiny, tiny waist that sweeps outward like a bell with a crinoline, I looked at that from the angle of colonial policy. When you are shaping another country to become like you, what they are not in the first place — this is what this whole piece is about.”

Outside of the neat colonial metaphor it makes, one more thing stands out from Liv Vinluan’s latest piece: given her inexperience with this specific medium (citing four failed prototypes and an impossible number of ripped seams), a poignant sense of craft is still heavily apparent in the work. The pieces are simply —and exquisitely — well done.  

The attention to detail is impeccable, taking great care in “the finish” as we like to call it in the business of fashion —with crisp seams that are at par with the most hallowed of couturiers. “I’ve always been very meticulous kasi, coming from watercolor — and that medium is very demanding,” said the artist. “You make one mistake, and it shows up. After this whole undertaking, I feel very rewarded and very fulfilled with the output.”

To find out her inspiration, what motivated her to deviate from the usual medium, and the realities (both then and now) that exist within her work, YStyle sat down to talk shop with young artist Liv Vinluan.

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“Ang Cabilógan ng Isang Cuadránggúlo” by Liv Vinluan is a featured piece from “Exposition,” a group exhibition at the Lopez Museum and Library. Featured artists also include Cian Dayrit and Lightning Projects: CTCCCs. The exhibit runs from until Dec. 23, 2016 at the GF Benpres Building, Exchange Road, cor. Meralco Ave. Ortigas Center, Pasig City. For more information, call 631-5417 or e-mail lmmpasig@gmail.com.

YSTYLE: Can you give us a bit of background regarding this specific piece? 

LIV VINLUAN: The title of the show, of course, is “Exposition” and it basically centers around the Philippine Pavilion, so to speak, that was brought over to Madrid in the 1880s. I was commissioned to do a piece based on botanicals — the Flora de Filipinas, which is basically a record of Philippine flora and fauna. And as a second task, I was asked to react to the whole idea of the Palacio de Cristal (Editor’s Note: a glass and metal structure built in 1887 in Madrid, to exhibit endemic flora and fauna from the Philippines), a glass house, an arboretum — a huge magnificent thing built in Madrid.

Which direction did you end up choosing?

As you may have seen, there’s not much material in the Flora de Filipinas — a lot of paintings, watercolor plates, botanical plates, really beautiful stuff — but as for the Palacio de Cristal, there were some letters written by Jose Rizal, describing the pavilion to his family and friends. And that led me to think, if I was going to make this project work, I needed to somehow get a solid grasp of the life and times of 1887 — the spirit of it all.

I looked at the books written then, what they were talking about, what they were thinking. I noticed a trickle-down from the French Revolution, the Napoleonic Wars, and so on and so forth, up until I got to the emancipation of Mexico from Spain — the whole back and forth of history, what people were doing, what was the spirit of the time; somewhere, somehow, it led me to doing this piece.

Would you say this particular medium was a departure for you, as an artist?

To me, it’s such a huge deal. If you’ve been painting all your life like myself, most of my work is 2D watercolor, drawing, and also oil on canvas. To me it’s such a huge departure. But I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time, I just put it at the back of my mind because ayoko naman mag-madali — I didn’t know when, where, how and why I could ever sew an art piece by hand, by myself.

I’ve always just sewed for myself, as a hobby, mostly. It’s a nice experience. I’ve always been fascinated with the process — diba it starts out as a flat fabric, then you cut and sew the pieces together. Overnight, it’s 3D. That’s what fascinates me. Malakas ‘yung anticipation.

Suddenly, I was invited to do this show here for the Lopez Museum and it was just a perfect fit. Making something 3D, especially making clothes, it’s been a dream project for my art practice.

Were there specific garments that inspired you for this?

I was really looking into particular pieces from the 1880s that were reflective of the specific style of the times. I looked up original patterns from then, and diagrams from the Internet — I just tried to use that, and tried to be as authentic as possible. All of it was handmade and hand-sewn; I used a sewing machine for some of the seams.

Would you say clothing, or costuming, or the simple drape of fabric, have always been points of reference for you as an artist?

Yes. It always has been. I’ve always found folds and drapery mysterious, especially in oil paintings. It’s very suggestive also, because it’s covering something — you don’t know what’s underneath, you don’t know what it’s covering. Cloth, fabric — all of it is connected for me.  

For you as an artist, what specific reality are you trying to show with this piece? Is it now, or is it purely a reflection of then?

It’s a reflection of then that still persists now.

Can you explain?

The main image of this piece is really Filipino dress with Western underpinnings, cloth and gauze steeled and supported underneath by Western wear. It says a lot about colonial policy and (the effects of) an invader coming into another man’s land.

It’s still happening now?

It’s still happening. It still reflects — these are the same problems we have now. That’s what Cabilógan is all about. That’s why it’s lit from beneath — it’s illuminating all the details you otherwise wouldn’t see. The piece is about exposing also. And the title, of course: an exposition.

Photos by JL JAVIER