Michael Clark is the incipit. The beginning, a blank page, the agitator who challenged the system,
who threw a pair of shiny fingers in the face of populist culture and gave birth to another. Michael Clark is the point of reference that prompted others to do the same. As such, he is embedded deep, somewhere, in the foundations of JW Anderson’s essence and value and now drives the urgency of a blank slate.
A new beginning, in contrast with the dominant culture.
Notoriety matters, senseless novelty not so much. From this assumption arises the comparison with the idea of what has been done. History and the long term: as a perspective, not as a burden. Overcoming rejection in the name of lucidity.
Fifteen years of JW Anderson are condensed here and now, all redone and revised,
mixed with Michael Clark imagery, memorabilia, even just the name and what it represents. A cathartic reduction to the essence, which relates to the tropes and the principle. Claiming the sense of possession: of geometries, of padding, of drapes, of frankness.
Of the crooked cuts and refinements, of the panels and lapels.
Architectural coats, sculptural collars, even Breton anchors and stripes.
A constant exchange: before and now. Reduce, compress, condense.
And then again, again.
I’m curious, orange.
Show credits
Creative Director: Jonathan Anderson Styling: Benjamin Bruno
Music: Pascal Moscheni
Live performance: Brìghde Chaimbeul Casting: Ashley Brokaw
Hair: Anthony Turner
Makeup: Lynsey Alexander
Production: Holmes Production
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