On Monday, I found this amazing vintage dress. It was homemade in the 1950s. But look at that textile print! It reminded me of sound waves. If you’ve been to my blog before, you’ll know my interest in synesthesia. Anything that visually references sound fascinates me.
Delighted with the fit, I purchased it right away. When I got home, I realized that it had been altered slightly. The neckline was now straight across, while originally it was a sweetheart neckline. The hem had originally been scalloped to mimic the print, too. Now the hem is straight across. (It is a printed cotton piqué)
I couldn’t help but think of Lucienne Day (1917-2010), a British textile designer known for her Post-War abstract designs.
Magnetic Fabric by Lucienne Day. Printed linen union fabric. Image courtesy of pallantbookshop.com
Day used lots of abstract and geometric patterns in her textile designs, reminiscent of Wassily Kandinsky and Joan Miro. (And Kandinsky had synesthesia!)
Day was interested in pragmatic design. An artist in her own right, she always considered herself a textile designer. She explained:
“I’m very interested in modern painting although I didn’t want to be a painter. I put my inspiration from painting into my textiles, partly, because I suppose I was very practical. I still am. I wanted the work I was doing to be seen by people and be used by people. They had been starved of interesting things for their homes in the war years, either textiles or furniture.“
Interestingly enough, I also came across artist Louisa Bufardeci. A contemporary artist that works with needlepoint, Bufardeci has a series of work that explores taped phone conversations.
1 of 13 Captured Telephone Conversations by Louisa Bufardeci. Image courtesy of the artist.
The series are machine embroideries of the sound waves over the phone. Bufardeci’s artist statement sheds some light on her source of inspiration:
Warrantless, wireless, telephone tapping – how does it affect the sanctity of the domestic space? 13 captured telephone conversations – all one minute long captures the sense of paranoia generated by the idea that anyone could be listening in, anytime. These particular thirteen conversations are sourced from a mixture of conversations from history known to have been tapped, conversations from my private home, and conversations between abstract people.
13 Captured Telephone Conversations by Louisa Bufardeci. Image courtesy of the artist.
Obviously, I’m not the only person interested in the visual quality of sound waves. But I think it’s time to make a Dressing Room Confession: Great clothes do all the talking for you.
Synesthesia has been on my mind a lot lately. The first time I was introduced to the concept, I was reading A Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. The novel is deliciously written, exploring colors, shapes and the theme of art for art’s sake. A particular passage always stuck with me:
One should absorb the colors of life, but one should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar.
And that, in part, is what synesthesia is. Synesthesia is a neurologically-based condition in which stimulation of one sensory pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory pathway. Synesthetes, those that have synesthesia, will see colors when they hear sound or touch objects.
Sveral Circles by synethete Wassily Kandinsky, 1926.
Every case of synesthesia is different. Some people see colors while tasting food. Others hear sounds from the smell of fragrances. Some can taste sounds and images. The most commonly reported phenomenon is people hearing and seeing letters and numbers in colors. Each color has a specific color. No synesthete sees the same color for letters.
When thinking about this, I imagine listening to my favorite music and watching a myriad of brilliant, color-saturated shapes and lines performing before my eyes. What a beautiful way to experience life! It is difficult to say how many people have synesthesia. First of all, they experience this blending of the senses since birth. They do not see it as a “condition”, but as a regular way of living. Secondly, while research has been conducted on synesthesia since the 1880s, findings have not been widely distributed. Today, it’s estimated that as many as 1 per every 100 person possesses this magical gift.
This video, An Eyeful of Sound, tries to show you the experience of synesthesia:
There is good news. To a certain degree, we all experience synesthesia. Stoop interference tests illustrate this. These tests use the word green written in a a different color of ink. You are asked to identify the word, and ignore the color – tricky, eh?
Example of a Stoop Test
The early researchers were Heinrich Kluver (1897-1979) and Georg Anschutz (1886-1953), both of which worked independently. Frustrated by romanticized, poetic, and vague descriptions of what synethetes were seeing, they conduced rigorous studies with the collaboration of synesthetes to peer inside their minds, and produce a classification of the experience. These studies included the synethetes creating artwork. Here are images produced from the studies:
Original drawings by Max Gehlsen, reproduced in Georg Anschutz Farbe-Ton-Forschungen, Vol. 1. 1927.
Original drawing by Heinrich Hein as reproduced in Georg Anschutz Farbe-Ton-Forschungen, Vol. 1. 1927.
My interest in synesthesia led me to an exhibition catalog for the show Synesthesia: Art and the Mind, a show produced by McMaster Museum of Art in Ontario, Canada. (I highly recommend this catalog!) Much to my delight, the catalog explained synesthesia in crystal clear detail, while divulging that many of my favorite artists and musicians were in fact synethetes. The list includes: Vincent Van Gogh, Wassily Kandinsky, Charles Burchfield, Joan Mitchell, and Duke Ellington. Wow, this explains a lot. . .
Charles Burchfield (1893-1967) was an American watercolor painter. Based in Ohio, his main works explored nature and the effects of Industrialism on small towns. His work includes unusual color combinations, rhythmic use of lines and shapes, as well as ordinate objects enveloped in auras of color. These are typical signatures of a synesthetic artist.
September Wind and Rain, by Charles Burchfield 1949 Watercolor on paper mounted on board, 22 x 48"
Charles Burchfield Road and Sky, 1917 watercolor and gouache on paper 17-1/2 x 21-1/2 inches
Moon and Thunder by Charles Curchfield, 1960.
Afterglow, July 8, 1916, watercolor and graphite on paper, 44 x 20 inches
Sunlight in Forest by Charles Burchfirld, 1916
The Luminous Tree by Charles Burchfield 1917
Sunset 1917 Charles Burchfield (1893-1967/American)
Joan Mitchell (1925-1992), also American, was an Abstract Expressionist Her paintings are expansive, often covering two separate panels. Mitchell was also primarily influenced by landscapes, and drawn to works by Van Gogh and Kandinsky. (Makes me wonder if synethetes are are drawn to each other like magnets.) Her paintings contain scribbles, scratches, and drips of paint that have a sense of movement. Some of the paintings seem like they will drip off of the canvas and disappear. Others look like the hues would blow away with a gust of wind, like crisp autumn leaves.
Lucky Seven by Joan Mitchell
Joan Mitchell in Her Studio
Garden Party by Joan Mitchell
Work by Joan Mitchell
Work by Joan Mitchell
Work by Joan Mitchell
Wassily Kandinsky (1866-1944) was Russian, and is credited as having been the first real abstract artist. His earlier works echo in the vein of synesthesia: bold, unusual color combinations, dashes of color, and soft lines.
Schwabing with the Church of St. Ursula by Kandinsky, 1908.
As he began to experiment with his work, he claimed to have discovered abstraction by accident: he looked at one of his paintings upside-down. His abstract work has unexpected and unique rhythms, and are mostly named after musical compositions.
Composition W by Kandinsky, 1939.
We are lucky to even read a little of Kandinsky’s synesthetic experience. He described a trip back to Moscow below:
The sun melts all of Moscow down to a single spot that, like a mad tuba, starts all of the heart and all of the soul vibrating. But no, this uniformity of red is not the most beautiful hour. It is only the final chord of a symphony that takes every colour to the zenith of life that, like the fortissimo of a great orchestra, is both compelled and allowed by Moscow to ring out. – Kandinsky
Composition VII by Kandinsky, 1912
Looking at all these synethetic artists, I can’t help but wonder if artist and fashion designer Sonia Delaunay (1885-1979) had synesthesia, too. Sonia, along with her husband Robert, developed a color theory called simultaneity – the sensation of movement when contrasting colors are placed side by side. She also referred to her garments from the 1920s as robe poemes, or dress poems. I’ll let you be the judge:
(FYI: Tissu is french for fabric)
Sketches by Sonia Delaunay, c. 1915.
Sonia Delaunay in her own design,
Robe Simultanee by Sonia Delaunay, 1913
Garments by Delaunay.
Abstract Diagonal Composition # 1733 by Sonia Delaunay. Gouache on paper.
Tissu simultane, 1928. Block-printed silk crepe de chine.
Model wearing a Delaunay coat, c. 1926
Bathing suit, c. 1924. Silk embroidery on wool jersey.
Model wearing a Delaunay swimsuit, 1929.
Models wearing Delaunay beachwear, 1928.
Tissu Simultane #193 by Sonia Delaunay, c. 1927 Block-printed cotton.
Sonia Delaunay, please visit the on-line exhibition of Color Moves: Art and Fashion by Sonia Delaunay. It can also be seen in person at the Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum in New York until June 5th, 2011. You can also watch this video: