Night Vision: Muriel Spark vs Prada Fall 2018

For her Fall 2018 collection, Miuccia Prada sent a riot of eye-popping neon and candy-coloured pastels across the Milanese night skyline. “My dream is for women to be able to go out in the street late at night and not be afraid,” said the designer, whose latest vision fits her feminist outlook. Famous for creating clothes with a dual purpose – clothes that are both powerful and feminine, serious and playful – Prada produced a collection that offers protection and charm, one that focuses on making women visible. Industrial chic meets after-party, these are clothes for an all-night bender.

The setting couldn’t have been more perfect for this glow-in-the-dark collection. The show was held in the new extension to the Prada Foundation in Milan, a former distillery turned art space. Simply called ‘Torre’, this striking white tower designed by OMA offers fabulous views of Milan whilst providing a welcome landmark for the area. Yet to be opened to the public so still in a sense a building site, the fourth floor had a nightclub feel, merging with the city’s nightscape by way of neon signs, a black mirrored floor and electronic music, complete with a drone filming proceedings.

Despite the feel-good colours on display, the show didn’t garner the best reviews. It could well be that the 15-minute wait for the lift that never came (surely a metaphor for something) made the fashion pack somewhat less receptive to the wares on display. Whilst not the most overtly sexy of shows, the juxtaposition of colours and fabrics has a charm of its own; these are clothes that grab your attention. There’s a certain modesty to them too; although the longer you look, the more they reveal.

I thought about Muriel Spark, in particular the Italophile/Mussolini enthusiast Jean Brodie, when visiting the Post Zang Tumb Tuuum. Art Life Politics: Italia 1918–1943 exhibition, currently running at the Prada Foundation. It’s an extensive exhibition that charts the role of art and culture between the wars in a country dominated by fascism (with interesting timing given the recent shift in Italian politics towards populism and the far-right). The exhibition puts the art into context by recreating original exhibitions and offering a detailed timeline of events, as well as documenting the extent to which artists collaborated with the regime. It is particularly strong on the Futurists and their art of explosive colour.

It was only when I saw the images from the Prada Fall show however that the Muriel Spark centenary editions immediately sprung to mind (all 22 of her novels are being reprinted by Polygon this year to mark the centenary of Spark’s birth). The eye-catching book jackets designed by Teresa Monachino come in a variety of mouth-watering candy pastels and bright neons. Much like the latest Prada collection, it is hard to avert your gaze.

And so, beset by the flu, I set about matching book covers with outfits (a surprisingly soothing activity, much like doing a jigsaw puzzle) with uncanny results.

Whilst the matchmaking worked wonderfully with the Polygon editions, the New Directions edition of The Driver’s Seat (below left) also has its counterpart.

New Directions Edition

Prada Fall 2018

The model (above right) looks like she could be the main character in The Driver’s Seat – Lise: a woman on a mission who could well have a knife in her handbag. The 1974 film adaptation starring Elizabeth Taylor is overdue for a remake and Miuccia Prada would be the perfect collaborator.

Muriel Spark loved clothes and accessories. I don’t know of her relationship with the fashion house, if any, however I like to imagine that Miuccia Prada and Muriel Spark would have got on well: both strong, independent, commercially successful female artists with a clear vision; both productive and experimental, playing with form whilst exploring opposites and extremes; artists whose work offers a much deeper commentary behind the glossy facade.

French Letter: Sex and Freedom

Who would have thought that the #MeToo backlash would be led by a group of French women, including the doyenne of French cinema Catherine Deneuve?

No sooner had feminism triumphed at the Golden Globes with the all-black dress code (a display of solidarity against abuse and in support of equality) than Catherine Deneuve and about 100 other French professionals – mostly academics of some kind – signed an open letter in Le Monde criticising the #MeToo movement, comparing it to a witchhunt and advocating men’s freedom to hit on women.

Activist Rosa Clemente, actors Susan Sarandon and Michelle Williams and activist Tarana Burke  in all-black at the Golden Globes 2018 (Getty Images)

“Rape is a crime, but trying to seduce (lit: “bother”) someone in a persistent or clumsy way is not a crime. Nor is gentlemanly behaviour a macho attack,” the letter begins.

It’s an extraordinary letter. Militant in tone, it makes a passionate case against what it sees as puritanical and totalitarian elements of the feminist movement.

The letter makes some valid points, particularly with regards to a lack of tolerance within the “Me Too” movement for diversity of opinion and the shutting down of people who get it wrong. “Freedom of speech has become its opposite,” say the authors.

The letter calls out a lack of due process in denouncing men, puritanical attitudes to censorship in art and a culture that encourages women to see themselves as “eternal victims”. (One could argue that the “Me Too” movement has by and large empowered women, but still, these are all points for debate.)

The big problem with this letter is that it undermines its own arguments by blurring the lines of what constitutes sexual harassment, putting the onus on women for the behaviour of men, suggesting how they should respond (or not) to unwanted attention. Astonishingly, this is argued in the name of sexual freedom.

We defend a freedom to seduce, which is essential for sexual freedom.”

Acts such as a man persistently coming on to a woman, being forced into a kiss by a colleague or being groped on the metro are minimised. Women are encouraged not to overreact: women “shouldn’t feel traumatised for ever by a grope on the metro, even if it’s considered a crime,” says the letter. It’s dodgy territory because, not only does it fail to recognise the distress of such unwanted attention (the “Me Too” movement will attest to the enormity of that collective wound) the letter risks making excuses for this kind of behaviour.

Catherine Deneuve  (Shutterstock)

Women have agency, as this letter seeks to remind us, but it’s an odd kind of agency that it’s promoting. Take this quote, for example, “A woman can, in the same day, lead a professional team and enjoy being the sexual object of a man, without being called a slut or vile accomplice of the patriarchy.” It presents a rather limited view of women, one that is indicative of the authors’ social class.

What comes across in this letter is the authors’ fierce attachment to the(ir) idea of sexual liberation above all else. Could it be that the authors see this threat to sexual freedom as a threat to their own identities as members of the liberal bourgeoisie? (Even if the kind of sexual freedom they advocate, this “freedom to bother”, is not freedom for the many victims of harassment.)

Mixed messages: French Vogue (May 2011)

Despite the authors’ intellectual credentials, there seems to be a reluctance to let go of certain cultural stereotypes that arguably reduce women to the objects of male desire and a reinforcement of the idea that it should always be men who do the chasing.

Deneuve is very much a French not a Hollywood film star. It makes me wonder if there might also be an element of protectionism in the letter with regards to French culture. I refer to the long-standing culture war between France and America with on France’s part, a general resistance to change. (Last year at Cannes the big debate was about whether films funded by Amazon and Netflix should be eligible for competition bearing in mind they weren’t released in cinemas. The year before, women were banned from screenings because they weren’t wearing heels.)

Isabelle Huppert, star of Elle (Rex)

That’s not to say French cinema isn’t progressive. Far from it. The French have a wonderful talent for matching style with substance and producing ground-breaking, challenging work. Take Elle, for example, the recent psychological thriller starring Isabelle Huppert as a businesswoman who engages in a cat-and-mouse game with her rapist. It’s strong stuff but brilliant and I would argue feminist because it gives Huppert’s character agency whilst refusing to dictate how a woman should feel or react.

And I love the French film director Agnès Varda who is finally gaining the recognition she deserves. Her 1962 film Cléo from 5 to 7 charts the journey of a beautiful young singer who moves from a preoccupation with how she looks to seeing the world through her own eyes: from object to autonomous human being.

Any movement for equality isn’t without its ironies and French feminism is no different. The playwright Olympe de Gouges penned The Declaration of the Rights of Women back in 1791, mocking the famous Declaration of the Rights of Man and demanding equal rights for women.”Women have the right to mount the scaffold, they must also have the right to debate,” she declared. She got the the chop in 1793. Simone De Beauvoir, the famous pioneer of feminist thought and author of The Second Sex (1949) groomed young women as part of her open marriage with Sartre. And whilst women in France won the right to vote in 1945, it was technically illegal for women to wear trousers in Paris until 2013.

Deneuve et al’s letter is some ways a missed opportunity. Ironically its attempt to empower women has had the opposite effect: it wants women to be strong but only within the patriarchal mode – one where women remain objects and harassment is par for the course.

The “Me Too” movement does need to let people air their views in order to promote discussion (see my previous post on why the “MeToo” movement needs to allow for debate).  The authors of the letter have been widely criticised for blurring the lines of an issue that requires more clarity, not less. Letters like this keep the conversation moving, even if, or because, they are wide of the mark.

Dorothée Blanck (L) and Corinne Marchand (R) in Cleo from 5 to 7 (Agnes Varda, 1962)

Army of #MeToo: Why Feminism Needs to Allow for Debate

It is perhaps no surprise that both TIME magazine and the Financial Times have chosen the women who have spoken out against sexual harassment as their people of the year. From snowball effect to avalanche, 2017 has been the year in which women have individually and collectively spoken out on the abuse that has become so ingrained, and worse, accepted in our society for so long.

Whereas the UK’s Financial Times focuses on Susan Fowler, “the software engineer who lifted the lid on sexual harassment at Uber” back in February and “inspired women to speak out” (long before the Weinstein allegations came to the fore), TIME magazine in the US collectively nominates all the women who have spoken out against harassment and abuse – from Hollywood actresses to farm workers. Both articles offer comprehensive coverage of the “Me Too” movement and how it has created a cultural shift.

The “Me Too” movement has gained extraordinary momentum this year however it was founded a decade ago by activist Tarana Burke. As with any political movement, real change takes time. It’s a movement that has (forgive the pun) touched everybody. There are few, if any adult women who haven’t experienced some form of sexual harassment. What is so shocking is not just the scale of the abuse but the way in which it has been become so normalised and how women have frequently been implicated as somehow responsible for the actions of abusive men.

2017 has been a massive wake-up call. Perhaps the greatest impact of the “Me Too” movement has been to highlight the hypocrisies in all of us. We have been encouraged to consider, not just what constitutes sexual harassment or abuse and how we should confront it, but also how we view and treat each other; and, even more uncomfortably, our complicity in perpetuating a culture in which harassment has in many cases gone unchecked.

It is important and necessary that women come together to speak out. Women’s voices need to be heard, not just as catharsis for long-suppressed pain and anger, but also to help create long-lasting social change. While women are rightly taking the lead, harassment is a collective issue which is why everyone needs to be on board.

The actor Matt Damon recently came under fire for his arguably unwise comments regarding sexual harassment with actress Minnie Driver speaking out to correct him in the Guardian. “Men simply cannot understand what abuse is like on a daily level,” she says “and should not therefore attempt to differentiate or explain sexual misconduct against women.” It’s a valid point and Driver goes on to explain the nuances of sexual harassment. But she then goes on to say, “The time right now is for men just to listen and not have an opinion about it for once.” Given the context, I can understand Driver’s frustration and I agree that men (moreover everyone) needs to listen, however denying men an opinion is simply another form of oppression.

Journalists have lined up to tell Matt Damon to shut up and go away because they disagree with what he is saying, rather than seeing it as a golden opportunity to enlighten all genders on the reality of abuse. Damon’s somewhat banal comments have shown a lack of understanding but at least he is engaging with the subject; it seems more that he is trying to make sense of an unprecedented situation (as we all are).  Like it or not, his misguided comments have helped to further the debate.

Opinion within the “Me Too” movement is moving so fast that it can feel both overwhelming and hard to know what is the right way to respond. Take, for example, the Royal Court theatre’s recent decision to cancel its production of Rita, Sue and Bob Too (due to sexual abuse claims surrounding its director) only to reinstate it as a result of public outcry: the theatre was accused of suppressing a working-class female voice and by the same token, punishing women for the acts of men.  It could be seen as hypocritical and cowardly for a so-called avant-garde theatre to drop a play the minute it gets too close for comfort, suddenly desperate not to offend.  But perhaps the Royal Court deserves some credit for listening to the public and subsequently reversing its decision. Rita, Sue and Bob Too couldn’t be more timely in its subject matter, and whilst the circumstances may be uncomfortable, it is nonetheless an opportunity to further the conversation.

I don’t agree that everybody should have the same opinion. As the writer Nell Zink said at Edinburgh International Book Festival earlier this year (her latest novel Nicotine is about protest), “Oppression brings people together where otherwise they would have nothing else in common.”

Nor do I think people shouldn’t be allowed to make mistakes, especially so given the complexity of the subject. Labelling other women as bad feminists or shunning men with questionable opinions is not particularly helpful. People like Lena Dunham don’t deserve to be vilified for their seemingly hypocritical actions when they are prepared to acknowledge their fallibility. Ironically, perhaps Dunham’s greatest achievement has been to show women as imperfect beings in the drama series Girls, to make it OK for women to make mistakes.

The “Me Too” movement has opened our eyes and forced us to confront some uncomfortable truths. I’m glad TIME magazine chose to put a group of women on the cover as it emphasises the collective spirit of the movement – one that spans all classes and backgrounds. If the “Me Too” movement is going to continue to flourish, it needs to be inclusive and to allow space for debate.

Pussy power: Missoni’s Women’s March dolls

Scotland and the Slave Trade

Tired of walking past the ridiculously high statue of Henry Dundas – the man who delayed the abolition of slavery by 15 years – in Edinburgh’s St Andrew Square every day, I attended the Black History Month 2017 event at the Scottish Parliament’s Festival of Politics in order to find out a little more about Dundas and Scotland’s role in the slave trade.

It was both enlightening and disturbing to learn about Scotland’s intrinsic involvement and that the slave trade provided a key incentive for Scotland’s union with England in 1707.  Take a look at article IV of the Act of Union:

Scotland first started trading tobacco with Virginia, then sugar and coffee with Jamaica which became a major stronghold. By 1800 in Jamaica there were 10,000 Scots, 10,000 English and 300,000 slaves. The slave trade was a major boost to Scotland’s economy and its legacy remains in buildings such as Glasgow’s Gallery of Modern Art (a former slave master’s house) and street names such as Jamaica Street. There’s even a window in Glasgow Cathedral dedicated to a tobacco lord.

There is evidence to suggest that there were up to 30 Scottish slave ships, sailing out from Greenock and Glasgow and even newly trained surgeons played a role. Scotland being famous for producing surgeons, many joined slave ships  – getting a bonus for the delivery of slaves in good condition – or worked on plantations where they conducted experiments on the slave population.

After the British Slavery Abolition Act of 1833, slave owners were heavily compensated. The Edinburgh Slavery Map details those New Town profiteers and how much they received – part of a £20 million compensation package, some 40% of the British government’s annual budget.

Slavery was such a profitable enterprise that even Scotland’s national hero Robbie Burns planned to go out to Jamaica to become a “book keeper” in 1786. Fortunately he was saved by the success of his poetry and changed his tune to pen his anti-slavery poem The Slave’s Lament in 1792.

Black Burns by Douglas Gordon

Two current exhibits at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery – Graham Fagan’s The Slave’s Lament and Douglas Gordon’s Black Burns – commemorate this history and pay tribute to the trafficked and enslaved.

It is ironic that such exhibits are to be found just metres from the Dundas statue in St Andrew Square. At nearly 150ft high, the statue (known as the Melville monument) is Edinburgh’s tallest, so far away you can’t see Dundas’ face. This is the man responsible for the adding the wording “gradually abolished” to William Wilberforce’s bill for the abolition of the slave trade in 1792 thus perpetuating the trade for another 15 years at least.

The Dundas Statue in St Andrew Square, Edinburgh

With many titles including Lord Advocate and Governor of the Bank of Scotland, Home and War Secretary, Lord of the Admiralty and Treasurer of the Royal Navy, Dundas was not only the most powerful man in the country, he was arguably the most powerful man in the world and played a key role in the expansion of the British Empire. A crook, he siphoned off public money for which he was later impeached and divorced his wife (whom he married when she was just 14), stealing her fortune and ensuring that she never saw her children again. He is also known for mobilising troops to suppress protesters against the Highland Clearances. All in all, not a nice guy. And yet he towers above Edinburgh residents going about their day-to-day business.

There is a campaign to change the wording on the plaque of the Melville monument to better educate the public on Henry Dundas. Professor Geoff Palmer, expert on Scotland’s slave trade history and Chair of the event, recently made this YouTube video on the subject.

Many people, myself included, would like to see Edinburgh Council go further by removing the statue of Dundas and replacing it with a more worthy figure. There is an argument that Sir Geoff Palmer espouses that if you remove the evidence, you remove the history. That said, I would argue that there are better ways to commemorate such a dark history: a statue of an abolitionist, a specially commissioned sculpture, or a monument that commemorates Scotland and Jamaica’s shared history perhaps.

Even a simple gesture such as flying both the Jamaican and Scottish flags above the plinth would be a welcome display of solidarity. It is no coincidence that the two flags are so similar in design. There is in fact a new lottery-funded project called Flag Up Scotland Jamaica set up to promote links between the two nations.

Geoff Palmer hopes that an increased awareness of this uncomfortable past will help foster a greater sense of belonging among descendants of the slave trade. Perhaps also it will help the people of Scotland to address the legacy of the British Empire.