Ballgowns at the V&A

Fashion is a slightly overlooked area- although, fortunately, not at the V&A, who have just re-opened their fashion after a refurbishment.

And very pretty it is too- the vertical space slightly dwarfs the displays but makes it a fine space, with some impressive hanging ceiling domes.

The starting temporary exhibition in this space is Ballgowns- British Glamour from the 1950s. The title, frankly, says it all- it is a selection of ballgowns, and some accessories. The usual suspects are represented- Norman Hartnell, Hardy Amies, Vivienne Westwood, John Galliano (only one, as I suppose he isn’t correct at the moment), Alexander McQueen, the house of Worth, as well as many others.

So this is, at heart, an unabashed study of the aesthetic. There is some context shown as to why these items got made and for whom, and how this has changed- but only little cultural consideration. If I was to criticise, it would be this aspect which is underplayed- how do these items and ideas trickle down to other fashion? Has an awareness of glamorous gowns to sexualise women changed their use? Not much of this is discussed, neither is the technical craft- we know who designed them, and often who for, but not often how.

I found the most telling comment on this (and one of the finest items) is Cindy Beadman’s fairly tale dress- I read this as a savage satire, a ballgown promising a saccharine happy ending.

The other shame is that these items are living textiles- so seeing them on mannequins and not moving on the human body is an inevitable pity- it is partly like reading the score rather than listening to Beethoven (thanks for that one, Mr Barthes).

However, reading these garments as purely aesthetic makes for a focussed exhibition. It is also organised by colour, which neatly sidesteps the chronological/typographical issues- with historical periods mixed on the inside, and contemporary up top on the massive balcony space, displayed somewhat less conventionally.

The other massive regret on this one is Alexander McQueen- he has two items here, and both are awesome. It’s a sad loss, framed by the stone angels of his 2010 collection dress.

The Body Adorned at the Horniman Museum

This is a classic of doing too much or too little- an exhibition that promises but doesn’t deliver. The Body Adorned is about the dressing of Londoners (and others)- but if you didn’t know the theme, you’d be hard pressed to guess.

It has several parts- a selection of the Horniman’s anthropological objects, a multimedia show, and a collection of modern photographs and clothing. Neither of these are uninteresting-they just aren’t joined up, and the display so light on challenge that nothing comes from it.

Victorian and colonial anthropology has a bad rap- and rightly so- and this does little to address it. The figures greeting you whilst you come in are examples of this- preserved by Empire from people around the world- but how do they link with the modern slideshow of Londoners and teens? Why are they below the slides? Are they less important? More importantly, why are they here, and how are we meant to read them?

This remains throughout the exhibition- are these anthropological artifacts? If so, then why so little context? This makes them little better than the Victorian displays- a cabinet of curios for your delectation.

And if they have aesthetic values- why not display them as such? Can we not appreciate them as voyeurs- must they be studied?

The modern slideshows and photos are voyeurism of the highest kind- and interesting as such- although they have a self-selection problem, the films choosing those deemed film-worthy and edited. The photographs and ‘modern’ wardrobes are also representative of those willing to take part in such a survey. Why these people?

The answers, unfortunately, are political- they represent the London modern capitalism wants to see- and the Olympics want to represent. A London not of communities, but of individuals making their own way and doing their own thing, entitled and buying. Everyone together and bought in to the status quo. Even the homeless man is edited and portrayed like it is a lifestyle choice. No communities were named, harmed or even challenged in this exhibition.

The Horniman is better than this exhibition- if you want to see modern Londoners and what influences them, you’d be better off in the cafe.

Damien Hirst: For the Love of God

For anyone who thinks that setting is unimportant, Hirst's gap-toothed skull has the last laugh. In its dark strongroom on the Tate Turbine floor, the ritual is as much part as the artifact. There is a queue, timed entry, security guards and the room is pitch black- reminiscent of the crown jewels.

These precursors set the mood nicely- in a glowing box in the middle of the strongroom, the diamond-encrusted skull sits like a holy relic. Even here, the presentation is crucial- the polished glass of the box reflect the image, so the sparkle seems to go on infinitely in mirrors.

And the piece itself? An awesome memento mori. The skull itself is surprisingly small, and beautifully asymmetric. The diamonds sparkle wonderfully, especially the third-eyes pieces on the forehead- it looks like the skull of a god, meditating, looking back at itself.

The combination of exquisite wealth and vanitas make this hugely richer in many senses in death.