A Spirited Celebration Of America's 'Cocktail Culture'
As you enter Cocktail Culture, an intoxicating exhibit of
apparel, accoutrement and ephemera at the Rhode Island School of
Design's Museum of Art, it's hard not to think of Billy Strayhorn's
lyrics in his jazz standard "Lush Life": I used to visit all those very gay places those come-what-may places where one relaxes on the axis of wheel of life to get the feel of life from jazz and cocktails.
The
exhibit feels like an elegant and witty party that can be followed over
six decades, from 1920 to 1980. You can almost hear the chatter. Think
of it this way, say Kate Irvin and Laurie Brewer, both curators with
the museum's Costumes and Textile Department. Cocktails — the word
might be from the docked tail of a certain kind of show horse — are
about mixing. Which, during Prohibition, was necessary to cover up the awful taste of bathtub gin.
"There's the mixing of genders, the mixing of time periods," says Irvin. "In the 19th century, men drank alone in saloons or stashed a bottle of spirits at home. That changed with Prohibition in 1919, when men and women went indoors to drink together in elegant apartments or clandestine speakeasies. By the time Prohibition ended in 1933, women had the vote, and the modern woman emerged — cocktail in hand."
That means the masculine and the feminine have to be balanced in an exhibit about cocktail culture. The curators do this with film clips, posters and of course — barware. Matthew Bird, an industrial design teacher at RISD, discussed this in a talk for the museum in April.
Bird
pointed to an iconic set of shaker and glasses called the "Manhattan
Cocktail Service," designed in 1934 by Norman Bel Geddes — it's at the
entrance of the exhibit. "Geddes," Bird explained, "knew how to attach
the ways things looked to what they did." (In 1945, Bel Geddes would go
on to design a flying car that actually worked.) "Here he is at the
beginning of his career ... [designing] a tall cylindrical shaker and
eight cups that, when placed on the accompanying tray from Revere,
looks like a tall building." The silhouette of the shaker and cups
suggests a cityscape like Rockefeller Center. It's a handsome set of
chrome-plated brass, with one flaw, Bird says. "Everyone wanted the
shaker and tray, but no one wanted the chrome cups."
But they did want the style. Actor William Powell was a man who knew how to mix a cocktail in style, both on screen and off. In the 1934 film The Thin Man, Powell hoists a chrome shaker as three waiters in white jackets and bow ties look on.
"The
important thing is the rhythm," he drawls, in his urbane, slightly
sauced way. His tuxedo is impeccable. "Always have rhythm in your
shaking. Now, a Manhattan you shake to a foxtrot. A Bronx, to two-step
time. A dry martini you always shake to waltz time." Powell then
samples his signature drink, the dry martini. It's pure elan, pure chemistry.
Elan and chemistry fizz together in the exhibit. From the amazing cocktail bags women placed on the bar to "mark" their territory to eye-catching hats to hand-painted Mexican resort wear (designed for an era of ease in say, 1950s Acapulco), Cocktail Culture reminds us of how much Americans enjoy ritual — particularly ritual that allows us to mix fantasy and pleasure. (It's worth noting in this time of anxiety.)
A brief mention here for Joanne Dolan Ingersoll, a curator who was an originator of the show and a guiding force for the exhibit. Ingersoll is no longer with the museum, but she wrote several of the essays in the Cocktail Culture catalog. "The cocktail is not just a drink," she writes, "not just spirits combined with a mixer, but a spectacle, a symbol of American joie de vivre, prosperity, youth and unity."
The martini glass and the little black dress may anchor this exhibit, but it needs just one thing more. You. The stage is set, the lights low, the drinks poured. Shaken or stirred?
Cocktail Culture: Ritual and Invention in American Fashion, 1920–1980 will be on display at the Museum of Art at the Rhode Island School of Design in Providence, R.I., until July 31.
The show features more than 200 objects, including nearly 60 dresses owned by the museum. There are stunning dresses by French designers Givenchy, Trigere and Dior, Americans Norman Norell and Elizabeth Hawes, and a collection of whimsical '20s flapper dresses in glass bugle beads. Some of them are local creations, made by Providence-based designers (and sisters) Anna and Laura Tirocchi. There are 12 drop-dead Swarovski crystal necklaces and brooches which look like Greta Garbo just took them off. (Swarovski sponsored this exhibit.)
Lillian Bassman/Harper's Bazaar Lillian Bassman's photograph The V‐Back Evenings shows model and actress Suzy Parker having a drink (and some fun) in 1955.
"There's the mixing of genders, the mixing of time periods," says Irvin. "In the 19th century, men drank alone in saloons or stashed a bottle of spirits at home. That changed with Prohibition in 1919, when men and women went indoors to drink together in elegant apartments or clandestine speakeasies. By the time Prohibition ended in 1933, women had the vote, and the modern woman emerged — cocktail in hand."
That means the masculine and the feminine have to be balanced in an exhibit about cocktail culture. The curators do this with film clips, posters and of course — barware. Matthew Bird, an industrial design teacher at RISD, discussed this in a talk for the museum in April.
Museum Of Art/Rhode Island School of Design Norman Bel Geddes' 1934 "Manhattan Cocktail Service" evokes a tall, city skyscraper.
But they did want the style. Actor William Powell was a man who knew how to mix a cocktail in style, both on screen and off. In the 1934 film The Thin Man, Powell hoists a chrome shaker as three waiters in white jackets and bow ties look on.
Museum Of Art/Rhode Island School of Design A cocktail hat circa 1963 by Cristobal Balenciaga. Silk, tulle, feathers, plastic, satin weave.
Elan and chemistry fizz together in the exhibit. From the amazing cocktail bags women placed on the bar to "mark" their territory to eye-catching hats to hand-painted Mexican resort wear (designed for an era of ease in say, 1950s Acapulco), Cocktail Culture reminds us of how much Americans enjoy ritual — particularly ritual that allows us to mix fantasy and pleasure. (It's worth noting in this time of anxiety.)
A brief mention here for Joanne Dolan Ingersoll, a curator who was an originator of the show and a guiding force for the exhibit. Ingersoll is no longer with the museum, but she wrote several of the essays in the Cocktail Culture catalog. "The cocktail is not just a drink," she writes, "not just spirits combined with a mixer, but a spectacle, a symbol of American joie de vivre, prosperity, youth and unity."
The martini glass and the little black dress may anchor this exhibit, but it needs just one thing more. You. The stage is set, the lights low, the drinks poured. Shaken or stirred?
Cocktail Culture: Ritual and Invention in American Fashion, 1920–1980 will be on display at the Museum of Art at the Rhode Island School of Design in Providence, R.I., until July 31.
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