German-born
designer Johannes Boehl Cranau’s studio is in the basement of a converted
warehouse close to London’s Dalston Junction station. In an unseasonably hot
summer – temperatures tipping over 30 degrees – the subterranean space, and its
subsequent shortage of windows, has one advantage, Boehl Cronau says: it is
cool. Besides, for now it’s temporary – the designer will be moving to Paris
later in the year, the French capital becoming permanent home to his young,
almost-eponymous label ioannes.
Boehl
Cronau graduated Central Saint Martins almost a year ago; since, he has been
invited to show his work at Paris’ eminent contemporary art museum, Palais de
Tokyo, on two occasions, for one of which he not only put on a fashion show,
but invited the public to see the process behind it. “Hair, make-up, fittings,
lookbook shoot… the pre, the after, everything into a public space,” Boehl
Cronau says. It was testament to a growing interest around the fledging brand,
but the production of such a spectacle proved a little overwhelming. For his
next collection, shown in September, the project will be considerably smaller –
Boehl Cronau will host an intimate presentation, also in Paris. “I want a bit
of a calmer start to the season.”
The
city, where the designer studied an art history foundation course before
beginning at Saint Martins, has long felt like home. “For me, it was very clear
early on that I wanted to be a Paris-based brand,” he says. “There’s a lot
happening in Paris right now; it’s opening up a lot. The London scene is very
much focused on the individual, the graduate, the new, whereas Paris is very
much about heritage; it’s about meeting people, making connections.” That said,
he will continue to return often to London, where he has already built up a
tight-knit web of collaborators and friends. “It’s nice to have that dialogue
between the cities.”
In
his clothes too, with collections defined by a certain generosity of cloth – in
his most recent, amply sized brocade puffa jackets wrapped elegantly around the
body like giant scarves; long opera gloves, deemed “puff-sleeved”, evoked 1980s
abundance – he finds an affinity with the excessive spirit of Parisian couture.
Fabric itself remains at the crux of his process – an obsession since
childhood, first learnt from a dressing up box which contained discarded pieces
of his mother and grandmother’s clothing.
“Fashion
always had an aspect of play, of dressing up,” he says, of an early realisation
of the creative potential of clothing. “I loved the idea that a blanket could
become – I don't know – a tent, a cave, a gown, a king’s robe. It’s this aspect
of fantasy that material can have – I think that’s my continuous story with the
medium of cloth.” In these terms, Boehl Cronau deems himself a modern
dressmaker, fascinated with what he calls the “gestures” of clothing. He seems
to continually ask himself the question: what happens when fabric meets the
body?
Entitled
Orlando, Boehl Cronau’s A/W18 collection began with a singular garment: the
suit his mother wore for her wedding in 1994. Described emphatically by the
designer as “mega, mega nice,” he says it is an item of clothing he has carried
in his mind since he began studying design. It was only this season, though,
that it appeared, if obliquely, in one of his collections. “It all started with
the idea of having a dissection through a woman’s wardrobe – of a lifetime –
this idea that the objects or garments there are a continuation of the life we
live.”
The
other garment was a 1980s puff-sleeved jacket with a sweetheart neckline, owned
by a friend originally from Australia. “She was like ‘I’m never going to wear
this’, but she kept it anyway,” Boehl Cronau says. “It was this precious object
she just couldn’t get rid of.” From there, he also found a number of puff-sleeved
garments in his own mother’s wardrobe from the 1980s, the various references
becoming the opera gloves shown in the final collection (“when I was done with
it only the sleeves were left,” he says). Then, a printed nightgown from the
1930s, owned by his grandmother, was woven in. “Each of these pieces had really
emotional, sometimes nostalgic meanings to the person,” he explains. “They are
these items we live through.” Boehl Cronau is fascinated by the way clothes can
hold meaning long after they stop being worn. “Like the kimono,” he explains.
“It’s an object in its own right, appreciated simply by hanging on the wall.
But it is also an object of adornment – it’s clothing.”
The
Modern Dressmaker Fascinated by the Gestures of Cloth. By Jack Moss. Another Magazine , August 23, 2018
"All
woman in my life are masculine with unquestioned femininity. That is, a woman
who oscillates between different identities without taking either too serious.
Orlando the collection came to us because we had pieces of a women wardrobe she
maybe collects her entire life, all those different identities we live, a cast
of characters, without no hierarchy."
Who’s
afraid of Virginia Woolf? Office Magazine , March 1, 2018.
More
:
In den Kreationen
des Jungdesigners ioannes steckt viel Unvollkommenheit, Charakter und Schweiß
Text Juule Kay. i –D Vice , November 8, 2017
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