In Pursuit of Nothingness

  A singularity is a point of universality where the point itself ceases to exist. It is the mathematical infinity, that which can be conceptualized yet never actualized. Its primordial force of being carries an almost divine transcendence of uninhibited scope. What can be real versus what is real. 

Before they became an integral foundation for studies of black holes and general relativity, singularities were facets of the arts. The artist Piet Mondrian, famous for his painstaking simplicity of form, as in Composition with Red, Blue, and Yellow, saw the world through the rigid lens of geometric shapes. His strict adherence to vertical and horizontal lines and a limited palette of primary colors evoked universal truths by deconstructing reality to its most basic, essential structures. While critics may ridicule Mondrian’s work as childlike, his simplicity is highly intentional. Though a child’s experience with the world may be limited to their building blocks, their optimism and imagination enable them to meld that world in their own image. Children, or those who remain unburdened by the weight of what they cannot do, are our singularities.

Rei Kawakubo’s Comme des Garçons, then, is a modern-day Prometheus: a torchbearer of singularity in its novel understanding of form and construction. Like Mondrian, the designer’s label’s origins lie in simplicity, with an almost militant conformity to the color black for the first 25 years of Kawakubo’s career. But this rigid aesthetic placed an onus on Commes des Garçons’s avant-garde approach to silhouette and material. Her equally acclaimed and notorious 1997 collection, entitled “Dress Meets Body, Body Meets Dress,” debuted body contouring pieces heavily misshapen by pads on the back or the belly that critics compared to cancerous tumors. Yet Kawakubo’s pioneering aesthetic is not borne of irreverence to the chic establishment. In Kawakubo’s eyes, “I only came to Paris with the intention of showing what I thought was strong and beautiful. It just so happened that my notion was different from everybody else’s.” Her authenticity is not so much a resistance to traditional beauty norms as it is a reimagining of ideal femininity.

Comme des Garçons has thus set forth a commandment for the abstract, in the vein of artists like Mondrian. To call it a protest is dismissive; conceptual art is not merely reactionary and anti-establishment. These reductive labels deny the essential fact that abstract art, like all art, exists unto itself. It is how Kawakubo has built her lasting imprint on the fashion world. Her 1988 collection demarcated a stark transition for the label, bringing forth a stunning red never seen before from the strictly monochromatic brand. The byline: “Red is black.” It is a concept most immediately reminiscent of Lois Lowry’s 1993 novel The Giver, which imagines a dystopian society purged of all the sensations and experiences humanity is accustomed to. Most notably, color. The reader follows the protagonist’s reawakening as he tentatively begins to embrace a more vibrant world beyond his sterile existence of mere white and black. The first color that he sees is that stunning red.

As Comme des Garçons assuredly embraced a vivid rainbow color palette in the following decades, it became clear that Kawakubo’s use of black is not merely an exercise in rigidity. Rather, it is a testament to universality. In The Giver, as the protagonist’s worldview expands, his black and white becomes reds, blues, and yellows. In Kawakubo’s overarching simplicity, the depth was always there.

That willingness to understand has always presented a barrier to interpreting abstract art. While realism lends itself to the viewer’s existing frame of reference by relying on established forms, abstract art forces its audience to deconstruct and rearrange their own worldview. It is why Mondrian’s art was considered a pioneering force of the Neoplasticism movement, a term that directly translates to a new molding or formation, specifically of the mind. But abstraction and realism are not diametric opposites: they work in unison, depicting the innate paradox of a singularity. Art portrays both what can be real as well what is real. 

Yet pioneers like Kawakubo and Mondrian would not consider themselves artists as much as creators. This mentality manifests in their unique approach to abstraction as a form of optimism and life. Kawakubo has said that she “works in the void, in the abstract, and yet [she] imagine[s] the total existence of the end product.” Mondrian treated his work as a lifestyle, designing architecture and furniture that aligned with his artistic standards. Both are the product of an ardent, often painstaking, commitment to creation. Their optimism is hard-earned, as Kawakubo and Mondrian undertake a borderline obsessive approach to their deceptively simplistic designs. It is not art, so as much work. It is creation.

Perhaps that is why they both gravitate towards abstraction. While existing structures can act as a framework for the audience, realism can also pressure creators to abide by what the audience knows, as opposed to what a creator feels. In truth, the transcendence of abstraction is not a novel concept. From religion to philosophical concepts such as truth and beauty, humanity has long debated the merits of universal ideas that are not entirely rooted in scientific evidence. From preachers to philosophers, individuals have dedicated their lives to understanding the human condition. Even scientists have prodded at the boundaries of the unknown, theorizing and speculating how they may further quantify what was once unquantifiable. Kawakubo and Mondrian are no different. Their strict aesthetics speak to an unwavering confidence in what they believe. Though what they believe is not always discernible, that may be the key to abstraction. Its meaning is borne of individual interpretation, and individuality is perhaps the most undeniably universal constant.

If that inspires cynicism or disbelief, it may be a matter of intellectual framework. A singularity is ultimately a choice: to believe.


Written by Athul Mohanram, Photography: Atithi Shrestha, Social Media: Matthews Naranjo

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