Loie Fuller’s “Serpentine Dance,” first performed in the 1890s, was so avant-garde that it continues to ripple across time as an ongoing reference. Today, Iris van Herpen began her show with a reenactment by dancer Madoka Kariya, who moved within a field of quivering laser light beams as though she was harnessing the tides with all her force and grace. What followed were a series of wondrous and elaborate creations that articulated van Herpen’s attachment to the oceans—not simply because they are an infinite source of inspiration, but because the planet’s largest ecosystem is a resource that remains mysterious and precious in equal measure.
“[The oceans] are what keep us alive, and we still know so little about them,” she said. “We need to be conscious about taking care of everything that takes care of us. It’s that symbiotic relationship that is always part of my work, but it’s becoming more and more urgent.”
Van Herpen hasn’t staged a show in a year, and she said this “ultimate freedom and luxury” allowed her to develop ideas and engage in collaborations that pushed her designs. The lineup began with a “living look” that contained some 125 million bioluminescent algae. Before the show, collaborator Chris Bellamy described them as “very happy” ahead of their runway debut. When model Stella Maxwell emerged from a watery light tunnel (another projection by artist Nick Verstand), it appeared as though the Pyrocystis lunula microorganisms decided to keep their cool, the dress and leggings emitting a softer shade of cyan than the vivid blue they showed off in their light- and humidity-controlled box in van Herpen’s studio.
Whether or not this animate ensemble or the intricately crafted bridal dresses in Spiber Brewed Protein (a biomaterial made from fermented sugarcane) make it to the red carpet or a wedding ceremony, van Herpen has managed proof of concept with this collection. She named it Sympoiesis, which can refer to collaboration across species, and she did indeed imagine pieces that fluttered and swayed like hybrid creatures. There were lattice-like structures in weightless “air fabric” from Japan, filmy printed pleated wings, and cascading gills. There was a fantastic dress that would have impressed the marble sculptors of the Renaissance; in resin-coated silk, it gave the impression of defying gravity, as though a crest of water was spiraling around the model’s torso and shooting upward into the air. And there were two dresses constructed in clouds of fine metal mesh that were meant to look like worn coral.
Van Herpen, who collaborated with Rombaut on heel-less shoes encircled by metal rings that nodded to sonar rays, said she wasn’t trying to imitate nature. “This collection is not replicating, because that would be senseless. It’s really about creating deeper relationships and therefore a consciousness.” The models embodied this—their movements measured and deliberate as they walked close enough to the audience that we could absorb the intricate patterns. Time moved slowly, yet she had invited us on some kind of mesmerizing and thought-provoking scuba dive.
