Ties that Bind
The State of Fashion 2024: Ties that Bind biennale featured designs by Jakkai Siributr (image: Eva Broekema).
With finely rolled paper garments, suits made from grapes, “holographic" folk dress, revolutionary graphic tees, uniforms for “Industrial Athletes”, intricate beading, beaten flower dyeing, outfits upcycled from waste, and an exhibition site spanning four continents, The State of Fashion 2024: Ties that Bind biennale presented an extensive collection of garments, textiles and film by designers and creatives from the Global South.
Presented within The Rembrandt Theatre, a disused cinema in Arnhem, the Netherlands, the biennale’s multifaceted, often beautiful, works explored themes of tradition, integrity, the political power of clothing, and approaches to the field that might challenge the exploitative and environmentally damaging nature of the current fashion industries. Curated by designer Louise Bennetts and V&A curator Rachel Dedman, the exhibition adopted a decentralised curatorial structure with sister sites in Nairobi, Bengaluru and São Paulo that could respond to their own individual contexts and, in turn, feed into and inform the main site in Arnhem. In practical terms, this ethos resulted in an estimated 40 per cent of the total biennale budget being allocated directly to support work in Kenya, India and Brazil.
An installation view of the biennale (image: Eva Broekema).
“That decentralisation was at the core of what we wanted to do from the beginning,” explained the curators, “and not just in a kind of token or superficial way, but in terms of channelling resources, both human and financial, away from the Netherlands towards other spaces”. A key reference for the biennale, Dedman noted, was curator Christine Tohme, whose work on the Sharjah Biennial 13 (2017) incorporated projects in Dakar, Ramallah, Istanbul and Beirut. This approach, Dedman explained, provided an inspiration to think structurally about what a large-scale art event can be “by taking Tohme’s model of decentralising the biennale away from its main site in the Netherlands, in the Global North, and looking at the ways in which we can work through meaningful collaboration with artists and curators and designers and makers from and in the Global South.” These sister sites were led by their own “interlocutor-curators”, Sunny Dolat, Kallol Datta and Hanayrá Negreiros, who were invited by Dedman and Bennetts to respond from their own perspectives to the crux of the biennale: the necessity of fundamental global change in the fashion and textiles industries to address the ongoing effects of colonialism and overconsumption, and begin to build a better world.
As a Netherlands-based organisation and a biannual fixture, The State of Fashion’s largest presence remained in Arnhem, however, exhibiting work informed by the disparate sister sites and bringing together designers and makers from around the world. As a space, the Rembrandt Theatre, posed unique challenges and opportunities for local studio MAISON the FAUX, who designed and produced the exhibition. Given the non-conventional exhibition space, innovative problem solving was required to make the cinema function for its new purpose, while the theatricality of the larger spaces was an invitation to lean into drama. As Dedman attests, “you’d better embrace the red velvet because you can't hide it”. The clearly defined audience seating, intrinsic to a cinema space, compelled the curators and MAISON the FAUX to play with the idea of spectacle while inverting the standard relationship between the stage and viewer.
The biennale was exhibited in the Rembrandt Theatre, a former cinema in Arnhem (image: Eva Broekema).
The curators also highlighted the unintended curatorial benefits provided by the cinema; the lack of natural light in the screening rooms created black box spaces that enabled more theatrical lighting for the exhibits. The curators went on to describe how they eschewed manufactured drama in other spaces by embracing natural lighting “to let the work that is more political and contemporary art driven, as opposed to originating in the fashion space, speak for itself”.
The first and largest of the exhibition spaces maximised this cinema setting, retaining a feeling of retro opulence in the plush seating, red velvet curtains and sconces. Garments were dramatically spot lit on black mannequins arranged on angled mirror podiums that appeared to float over the raked seats. The colour of exhibition mannequins has been an industry-wide topic for discussion given that the use of white as a “neutral” standard can be read as Caucasian by default. Alongside the growing prevalence of updating display information to address historical biases, museums are becoming increasingly conscious of the need to reconsider their displays themselves. The National Museum Scotland, for instance, has stated its intention to create a more inclusive approach to mannequin tones and shapes, while the V&A created custom mannequins based on Sudanese model Adhel Bol, featuring three variations of afro-hair, for its Africa Fashion exhibition. In a commercial context, Savage X Fenty also uses mannequins that are replicas of real Savage X Fenty models in a variety of realistically proportioned shapes and sizes in its retail spaces.
Mannequins on display in the biennale’s theatre space (image: Eva Broekema).
Arranged thematically, the exhibition began with ‘Dismantling Tradition’, a collection of work that explores and challenges ideas around heritage in making, particularly in regards to indigenous skills that were suppressed and devalued under colonialism. Conversely, but somewhat unsurprisingly, forward-thinking approaches to re-use, fair pay and community building also featured, with designers proposing a return to values antithetical to capitalism.
As you entered, hung on wooden rods, were the hanji paper garments of Korean textile artist Sun Lee, whose intricate process of tearing, rolling and weaving was illuminated by an accompanying short film. The labour intensive and ephemeral nature of Lee’s medium is in direct defiance of fast fashion practices and the longevity of the waste created through it. Poised on an angled mirror podium, a transparent acid-green ensemble by Argentina-based brand Nous Étudions reflects the brand's commitment to continuous education, combining new technologies with artisanal processes. At first glance, the garments appeared to be made from PVC, but were actually constructed from a bio-latex derived from grape waste. Nearby, a tan suit made from cactus presented an ethical alternative to animal leather, one that is natural, low in water usage, pesticide-free, and biodegradable – unlike many existing synthetic “vegan” leathers.
Sun Lee's paper garments (image: Eva Broekema).
In the ‘Political Bodies’ section exhibits engaged with the role of clothing as a means of oppression and resistance, all while considering how these macro functions contrast and combine with the intimate, tactile nature of garments. Amongst the work on display was the mesmeric “holographic" work of Bosnian-Austrian artist Azra Akšamija, which uses the persistence of vision optical illusion to show a sequence of AI generated images of speculative traditional dress via softly whirring LED fans. The juxtaposition of traditional folk dress, which invariably looks backwards in time, with the science-fiction future of AI and holograms is unsettling, particularly as the images generated by AI clearly lack reverence and understanding of craft and heritage. The work raises questions about what a future filled with images untethered from meaning, context, and craft could bring.
A selection of simple graphic T-shirts created by Farah Fayyad and Siwar Kraytem, though initially unassuming, is brought to life by an exceptional accompanying film also made by Fayyad. During the Lebanese uprisings of 2019, Fayyad and Kraytem, along with a group of friends, mobilised a manual screen-printing press in the streets at the heart of the protests in Beirut. Protesters would strip the shirts off their backs to have them printed with graphic slogans such as "disobedience blooms from tyranny” while they waited. This particular slogan comes from lyrics by Mashrou’ Leila, with typography designed by Kristyan Sarkis in the ruqaa calligraphic style which is the ancestor of handwriting in Lebanon. In the film, the screen-printing activity rises to a frenzy over several nights of protest, with more and more people requesting prints. Eventually, Fayyad and Kraytem begin arriving with a stock of pre-printed garments. As conventional commercialism uneasily creeps into their operation, the tone shifts, and they ultimately decide to shut down and step away. “We need fighters. We don’t need designers,” they explain in the film, underscoring the limits of garments as political tools.
Azra Aksamija's AI generated images of speculative traditional dress (image: Eva Broekema).
The ‘Designing Integrity’ section of the exhibition focused on design approaches that counteract the exploitation of human and environmental resources through the fair treatment of workers and innovative design solutions. Designer Tsang Mei Sze’s TMS.Site brand aims to improve protective clothing for Hong Kong’s construction workers, addressing the lack of respect for human safety and dignity she has identified in current workwear. Sze displays genuine empathy for the workers in her endeavour to produce the best, most functional and stylish workwear possible for these “Industrial Athletes”, collaborating with workers in a process that relies on in-depth feedback and rigorous onsite testing. Sze's accompanying short film recognises her subjects as fully-formed people as well as workers, with as much time spent discussing a passion for motorbikes as practical needs at work.
The work of Luna de Pinal, founded by Gabriela Luna and Corina Del Pinal, proudly showcases the skill of Guatemalan artisans. Techniques such as intricate beading, beaten flower dyeing, crochet and traditional backstrap loom weaving are utilised in an approach to garments that combines heritage methods with contemporary design. The brand is financially transparent and, in addition to several exquisite garments, exhibited an itemised breakdown of the cost of creating a pair of its trousers with sections including materials, in-house cut and make, pattern grading, import and export taxes, as well as the x2.7 markup for retail.
A variety of short films related to the exhibits were also screened, including Return to Sender by Nest Collective, which critiques the “charity” of second-hand clothes shipped in large volumes from Europe and North America to Kenya. Known as mitumba in Swahili, much of this clothing is unusable due, in part, to the declining quality of fast fashion and it is ultimately sent to landfill. This process allows senders in the Global North to feel altruistic, yet effectively shifts the burden of waste management to countries that do not benefit equally from the global fashion industry.
Buzigahill's Return to Sender collection (image: Eva Broekema).
Return to Sender also highlights the ways in which the psyche of mitumba-purchasing Kenyans is affected by the necessity of wearing garments discarded by powerful regions that have prospered through colonialism. While discussing garments whose stitched-in nametags make clear their former status, featured interlocutor-curator Sunny Dolat wonders “what happens to a people who are always carrying an identity of someone in the global north” while later in the film an interview with creative entrepreneur George Gachara sees him professes that clothing is “a critical component in the expression of dignity”. This sartorial power dynamic is also explored in the work of Ugandan brand Buzigahill, which demonstrates designer Bobby Kolade’s skill for upcycling second-hand clothing through a complex process of deconstruction and precise, considered reconstruction, producing unique pieces that are elevated far beyond their source material. Kolade’s work not only addresses the practical and urgent need to find ways to re-use waste to stop garments going directly to landfill, but also transforms clothing tainted with shame into garments that have dignity and are covetable in a process akin to alchemy. It is Kolade’s long-term goal to use the skills he has developed with Buzigahill to revitalise garment production in Uganda by creating factories that specialise in the repurposing of used garments.
A selection of work from the sister sites was also brought to Arnhem to re-exhibit, including beautifully decorated bolts of fabrics from Brazil, finely-crafted trad-contemporary fashion from Kenya and hand-embroidered saris from India. These exhibits represent a fraction of the integrated site-specific work created and they function as conduit objects for ideas and issues explored in more depth in Nairobi, São Paulo and Bengaluru. The site in Nairobi, titled Tradition(al), brought together work by designers, artists and makers from across the African continent, examining their role in preserving and developing indigenous skills as “custodians of heritage” explained Dolat. The exhibition celebrated the wide variety of culture from the continent as seen through fashion, often utilising materials and craft-based knowledge which has resisted oppression and systemic colonial erasure. Dolat described the importance of embracing and dismantling ideas of tradition in order to “continue their legacies and begin new life cycles”.
Garments from the sister site in Bengaluru, India (image: Eva Broekema).
Curator for India, Kallol Datta, chose the site in Bengaluru because the city has been facing an acute water crisis that impacts its residents’ clothing habits directly. This issue, along with the recent hijab ban in the surrounding state of Karnataka, highlights the ways in which “clothing is inherently political”. Datta described how artists and makers on the site integrated the political significance of garments and textiles with practices of care. This combination is illustrated in a short film by filmmaker Rusha Bose, which documents the women of the Namma Katte leisure space. The film follows the inspiring and formidable figure of Indu Antony as she zips around Bengaluru on her neon moped, discussing her creation of a space for women to radically “do nothing”. In this space, women embroidered phrases onto saris, which were later exhibited in Arnhem. The hand-sewn words reflect the women’s responses to social expectations of selflessness and the pressure to keep their clothing clean, while also openly addressing the physical difficulty of retrieving water each day.
Interlocutor Hanayrá Negreiros also highlighted the importance of water to her site in São Paulo. The exhibition, titled Through the Waters We Sew Other Brazilian Stories, was described by Negreiros as a “collective embroidery”, exploring the ancestral roots of Indigenous Brazilian people and resistance to oppression through symbols of water and crossings that are “woven as vivid metaphors, intermixed with encounters, changes of direction, prayers, leaves, fabrics, and mysteries conceived by many hands”. Each sister site presented its own unique perspective on fashion which was led by individuals integral to the communities and cultures of the site. Dedman and Bennett emphasized that the process of selecting interlocutors and sister sites was “really driven by people, not by place”.
Garments from the sister site in Sao Paolo, Brazil (image: Eva Broekema).
Towards the end of the exhibition in Arnhem, there was a small gem of a room that could easily be overlooked. ‘The Fabric of Shelter’ explored our intimate relationship with cloth as literal and symbolic protection. In the exhibition text there was a particularly memorable phrase: “from birth we are swaddled, in death we are shrouded”. The significance of this evocative phrase is echoed in the work Night Holes by artist Mounira Al Solh, whose perforated floating “tents” are inspired by a childhood memory. During the Lebanese Civil War, her mother allowed her to tear and repair small holes in her pyjamas to distract her from the sounds of gunfire and explosions. Looking up, the light passing through the holes evokes both a starry night sky and a bullet ridden shelter, making it clear how little protection cloth actually affords. In this final room exhibition goers were distanced from the commercial nature of fashion – the day to day buying, selling and wearing of clothes – and were instead invited to engage with work that deals with grief, religion and conflict through fabric.
In contrast to blockbuster fashion exhibitions that celebrate the “genius” of a single, usually deceased, designer, Ties That Bind represents something novel in the exhibition of fashion: a less monolithic, more communal, and collective approach to curation that engages with important, often overlooked voices and the pressing issues currently facing the fashion industry. Negreiros noted that this biennale was “historic because it managed to touch on deeply sensitive and current global issues through fashion, a subject often considered and assumed to be frivolous”. Datta, addressing the context in which the biennale was staged, pointed out the hypocrisy of museums in the Global North that display works from the Global South that have often been “pilfered, trafficked, or bought under dubious auctions”, yet refrain from including people from these regions in broader intellectual decision-making or creative choices. Ties That Bind represents a positive step to address this dynamic but, as Datta noted, “it’ll take decades of affirmative and structured equitable actions by the governments and institutional bodies of the Global North to mitigate these broad issues which were brought about by imperial, colonial, racist actions”.
Artist Al Solh's Night Holes installation includes perforated floating “tents” inspired by her childhood memories of the Lebanese Civil War (image: Eva Broekema).
The fashion industry has a history steeped in some of the worst forms of human exploitation and continues to rely on structural inequality, exploitation, and unfair wages at nearly every stage of the supply chain to generate profit. It is now one of the world’s biggest polluters, with overconsumption and hyper fast fashion accelerating the world to a tipping point that is beyond tenable. Everyone who wears clothes should have an awareness of the practices that produce textiles and garments, and would have benefitted from experiencing Ties That Bind. As an educator preparing the next generation of fashion designers, I recognise the critical importance of such exhibitions. They not only educate students about the pressing issues within the industry they are about to enter but also highlight how practices could evolve and broaden their awareness of diverse, innovative design practices beyond the traditional Eurocentric fashion canon. Ties That Bind delves deeply into the complex and entrenched challenges facing the fashion industry but also offers a potential roadmap and sense of optimism for the future. It is something that Dolat, for instance, describes in his hope that “as the fashion industry seeks to be better and do better, these alternative fashion systems – many of which are inherently sustainable and ethical – could hold the key to the future of the industry”.
Words Emma Clifton
Photographs Eva Broekema