The concept of the muse fascinates me. In Greek mythology, the Muses were the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne (memory personified). They were believed to inspire artists, philosophers and individuals, and their names were Calliope (epic poetry), Clio (history), Euterpe (lyric poetry), Thalia (comedy and pastoral poetry), Melpomene (tragedy), Terpsichore (dance), Erato (love poetry), Polyhymnia (sacred poetry) and Urania (astronomy).
The muse eventually became a force personified by a woman. She is the artist’s source of inspiration, providing the urge or ability to feel something. It’s often not an enviable role, although it does have romantic overtones. These women give their inspiring qualities to artists of all kinds, but they are often abandoned, denigrated or humiliated – they are the sacrificial maiden, for the cause of creativity. If they fall from favour, tragedy is born. The uber-muse of the twentieth century has to be Gala, who inspired Salvador Dali and lived with him from 1929 until her death in 1982. Dali’s dependence upon his muse was absolute and when she died his creativity was finally extinguished.
Nature is my greatest muse, but I am also inspired by music and poetry – they push me on through the physicality of all things floral. Involvement with certain people can trigger great bouts of creative activity – I love this fusing of ideas. Some of my most memorable jobs have been with highly visual people, where ideas bounce around and the finished work is so much more than what was originally proposed. Michelle Jank is one such inspiration. I’ve known Michelle for about sixteen years and we’ve done many photo shoots and projects together. She has had great success styling, designing and making jewellery and clothes, and she is now a creative director with bookings for jobs all over the world. She has a beautiful eye and a magic touch.
The first thing I did for Michelle was to create a large floral headpiece to be worn with the last garment in one of her fashion shows. I’d never made anything like it before, and I’ll never forget waiting nervously backstage to put it on the model. I remember Michelle walked past and gave me a pat on the back – she had confidence in me and I really appreciated it. We had to use a lot of pins to attach the piece to the model’s hair and head, and there was much swearing, but it had to be really secure as there was a long walk ahead of her. I learnt a great deal from that experience. There’s simply no room for error, and sleepless nights before a big event are the norm.
I love going to the flower market with Michelle when we’re doing a job together. The choice of materials is probably the biggest part of our work – once you have beautiful materials to work with, you’re more than halfway there. We drive out to the markets in the early dawn and set about gathering everything we think we need. Then we take the flowers to the studio and Michelle attends to all the aspects of the shoot while I get to work mapping everything out with the flowers.
This time, we are collaborating on some photo shoots for Club 21, a Singapore-based global luxury retail company. For a clothing range by Japanese designer label Comme des Garçons, I thread brightly dyed flowers onto fishing line to make headpieces and garlands. The contrast between the illuminated white garments and the jaunty blooms is destined to astonish, and photographer Juli Balla captures the contrast perfectly. At the next shoot, we team a flowing raspberry-and-cream dress by Carolina Herrera with an enormous unstructured bunch of flowers – it’s so heavy the model cannot hold it up for too long. We also discover the stunning roses we picked up at the market are a perfect match for an Alberta Ferretti dress, which is a stroke of luck. We weave them into a garland to go over the model’s shoulder and the result is spectacular.
Australian artist Del Kathryn Barton’s whimsical, intricate paintings are highly inspirational. So when we are invited to do the flowers for a dinner and exhibition of her paintings hosted by Roslyn Oxley at her Paddington gallery, we take our cue from Del’s elaborate artworks. She often has vines and flowers winding around the bodies in her paintings, giving a very sensual effect. Her directive for the table decorations is that the flowers should join and form a link to her paintings, and that they should be ‘oozing, sexual, vaginal creations’. ‘Make the flowers look sexy!’ she exclaims.
So many blooms and leaves lend themselves to this description, because flowers are geared and constructed for sexual reproduction by default. They are the sex of the plant, designed to attract with their colour, perfume and movement. Their sole purpose is to be showy, uninhibited, voluptuous and enticing, in order to attract their pollinators – bees, beetles, moths and butterflies. Every sensuous description applies to flowers – luscious, sensual, vibrant, fleshy, intoxicating, unfurling, luminous, blushing, dripping, moist, lubricated, erect, receptive – all in the name of attraction.
We deliberately use open and fully blown blooms, paying close attention to the inner and outer petals, and all the reproductive parts. To complement the paintings, we choose rich, dark colours, with pings of green and furry edges. The coccinea looks like it is ready to shoot its seeds into several specimens. We add beeswax candles to emphasise the idea of pollination. There are a number of insects peppered throughout Del’s paintings and I imagine them looking at the fecund floral arrangements below with bated breath, ready to pounce and start pollinating.
We’re asked to adorn the models for Collette Dinnigan’s last runway show, at the Royal Botanic Runway (in Melbourne’s Botanic Gardens), which is a great honour. I love Collette’s romantic sensibility, which is evident in her designs. The feeling for the show is very feminine, highlighting her vision of a dream-like state of beauty.
We use floral clusters, striking specimens and trailing garlands to decorate the garments and models. Every flower has to be perfect to complement the natural beauty of each model. Some of the arrangements are sewn, others wired, some just pinned and others are balancing on the models’ heads. It’s a very hot February day, so it’s vital that all the flowers and foliage are kept cool before they’re assembled and attached to the models. This is somewhat easier said than done! We crown the grand finale – a bridal dress – with an elaborate headpiece that trails from a complex arrangement on the model’s head, then cascades down her back. The models wait patiently for their turn, reminding me of dancers in a conga line I once saw, choreographed by modern dance performer Pina Bausch. ‘Movement is born from contemporary life,’ Bausch has said.