Additional photos:

• photographs of the original garments
• candid shots from the performance

About 3 years ago, I thought about a fashion show with books that were hidden in clothing. The idea came from a few places. One, from traditional Japanese kimono. The kimono appears to be simple, but it has a fascinating structural design. So elegant, and based on the width of a loom, it is a folded garment that is made to be taken apart and reassembled. When wearing a kimono, there are a few places that can store letters, money, small items. These hidden places include the front overlap area and the sleeves. While kimono-wearing was not an aspect of my childhood, I adore it. I love the feeling of the woven fabric, and the intrigue, history, and structure of the garment.

Another source of inspiration was an artists’ book I created entitled “Hole in My Heart” within which small books with writings from women poets of the 9th-13th century were hidden. I felt an affinity with the women authors, writing their sorrowful poems of love and loss. The sadness that they experienced led them to create writings whose evocative words endure, so many centuries later.

And in 2012, my friends, the Hamptons, created a documentary about me entitled “Hidden Books”. Though this is not a sequel to their work, I thought it was fun to invoke their title and acknowledge them in this new piece.

The costumes I designed are not strictly kimono, but they include some kimono elements. I wanted to design costumes that would be outrageous, and not wearable in the streets. The original vague idea began to take shape and grow in my imagination while I was confined to the hospital. I spent many nights and days in the hospital from last fall through February. My body had failed me, it didn’t work, but my head was active. For example, while in the hospital, I scribbled strange sleeves in my sketchbook. I kept working on the idea. 

For 20 years, I have been collecting discarded tarlatans, the loosely-woven cloth we use for wiping copper plates when creating intaglio prints. Most people throw this material away, but I always found beauty in the random marks and the ink lodged in the woven fabric. I intuited that this was the time to use my stockpile of discards, to share their beauty in an unusual way. 

I returned home and continued to gain strength. By the middle of June I was able to start sewing the first costume. The red and white colors I chose reminded me of the young women servers at Shinto shrines. I was reminded of my childhood adoration of Amaterasu Omikami, the Sun Goddess, who you met earlier today. I was so inspired by this goddess who, even in a world of men, was considered the highest of all the deities. And, she was a creator; she had her own craft, of weaving. Thus, the performance piece began taking shape, with connections to my past and memories.

Kumi Korf