Mia Dumont - Blog d'une consultante du Superflu...

Mia Dumont – Blog d'une consultante du Superflu…

Archi-portraits / Federico Babina

L’illustrateur et architecte italien très talentueux Federico Babina revient avec une série de 33 portraits d’architectes célèbres dont les visages sont constitués par leurs styles d’architecture.

Je n’ai choisi les portraits que des architectes dont je connais les réalisations, afin de vérifier la pertinence de la démarche.

Eh bien, c’est génial!

Caroline Andrieu la magnifique

CAROLINE ANDRIEU. One of the top illustrator in the Fashion world.  Here are a few samples of her talent!

Je suis folle de son travail.  Si vous suivez mon blog, je vous ai déjà parlé d’elle.  Sinon, voici un tout petit échantillon de ce qu’elle fait.

Je rêve de la faire travailler sur l’un de mes projets futurs…  Affaire à suivre!

J’arrête et vous laisse découvrir le reste par vous-même! www.untitled-07.com

Dessins au crayon!

Focus sur Franco Clun, un artiste italien autodidacte qui a cultivé son talent et sa passion pour le dessin au crayon, allant jusqu’à proposer aujourd’hui de véritables œuvres d’art, représentant des portraits de célébrités ou d’inconnus absolument incroyables.

Comment ne pas être soufflée par tant de talent.  C’est surréaliste!  Merci Fubiz.net!

Caroline Andrieu: illustrations

J’ai déjà parlé d’elle et de ses illustrations.  La revoici avec de nouvelles.

Beautiful Fashion Portrait Illustrations by Caroline Andrieu

These fashion portrait illustrations are by the talented Caroline Andrieu, « focused on her practice of portrait – her family, faces of actors she finds in magazines- to the catwalks. Each season, she selects pictures from Paris, Milan, London or New York and she offers her vision. What interests me is to liven up the sensuality of materials, of colors, to translate the model’s expressions and sophistication of the hairstyles. Bring back a picture to Life. » Caroline has an online shop, click HERE to check it out!

Thanks Inspiration Hut!

Hyperréalisme

18 Drawings You’ll Swear Are Actual Photographs

Drawing-nail

Take a look at the image above. Pretty surreal. At first glance (or second, or third), it looks like a photograph — maybe a little faded, compared to most high-definition shots we’re now used to, but a photograph nonetheless. Right?

It’s actually a ball point pen drawing by Portuguese artist Samuel Silva, based on Kristina Taraina’s photograph « Redhead Girl. » Silva used seven different colored pens and spent nearly 30 hours to recreate the photo.

Take a look at a few of Silva’s other illustrations, as well as works from Miguel Endara, Paul Cadden and Dirk Dzimirsky. Some used ballpoint pens, while others worked with graphite and charcoal. However, they all have one thing in common: these incredible works are definitely not photographs.

Have any other illustrations made you do a double take recently? Share them with us in the comments below.

Ballpoint Pen

Image courtesy of Samuel Silva

Image courtesy of Samuel Silva

Image courtesy of Samuel Silva

Image courtesy of Samuel Silva

Image courtesy of Samuel Silva

Image courtesy of Samuel Silva

Pencil

Image courtesy of Miguel Endara

Image courtesy of Paul Cadden

Image courtesy of Paul Cadden

Image courtesy of Paul Cadden

Image courtesy of Paul Cadden

Image courtesy of Paul Cadden

Image courtesy of Dirk Dzimirsky

Image courtesy of Dirk Dzimirsky

Image courtesy of Dirk Dzimirsky

Image courtesy of Dirk Dzimirsky

Charcoal

Image courtesy of Dirk Dzimirsky

Image courtesy of Samuel Silva

http://mashable.com/2013/04/26/drawings-photographs/


croquis à croquer

Tout juste sorti de l’imaginaire du créateur et tracé à la mine, à l’encre de chine ou à la palette graphique, le croquis est la première étape de la création. Autour de la palette tachetée de gouaches éclatantes, les créateurs laissent libre cours à leur fantaisie pour transformer les idées les plus insaisissables en réalisations concrètes. Des dernières collections de prêt-à-porter aux robes créées sur-mesure pour les célébrités, voici une sélection de 29 croquis, reflet de la personnalité et du style de chaque maison.

Croquis d’Olivier Rousteing pour la collection Balmain printemps-été 2013

Impression graphique façon arlequin, travail du raphia et bijoux 90’s… ce croquis réalisé à la main exclusivement pour Vogue.fr par Olivier Rousteing, le directeur artistique de Balmain, condense à lui seul tout l’esprit de la collection printemps-été 2013. Des inspirations éclectiques puisées à Miami et à Cuba, au travers du cannage en osier ou en rotin des chaises de style Louis Philippe mais aussi dans le style de la chanteuse Shadé (notamment ses longues créoles en argent).

Croquis d’inspiration de Domenico Dolce & Stefano Gabbana

Passion, tradition et innocence… telles sont les inspirations majeures de Domenico Dolce & Stefano Gabbana depuis la fondation de leur marque en 1985. Ici, un moodboard réalisé par les créateurs milanais dévoilant leur vision de la tradition. Un travail qui va au-delà du croquis simple puisqu’ils le ponctuent de collages et d’effets de matières.

roquis d’Alber Elbaz pour la réalisation d’un costume de scène de Rihanna

Depuis l’âge de 13 ans, Alber Elbaz griffonne des croquis empreints d’humour, de malice et de passion représentant les femmes qu’il aime et qui l’inspire. Des illustrations ludiques et colorées, parfois abstraites à l’image de celle imaginée pour Rihanna à l’occasion d’un concert de la tournée Diamonds World Tour. Un croquis réalisé aux crayons et feutre représentant une tenue Lanvin composée d’un body col plongeant et d’un pantalon taille haute en soie noire rebrodé de cristaux et serré à la taille par une ceinture multi rangs Dedale en laiton et cristaux Swarovski. Côté accessoires des colliers Dedale en laiton et cristaux Swarovski de la collection printemps-été 2013.

Croquis de Karl Lagerfeld pour la collection Fendi automne-hiver 2013-2014

Pour la collection automne-hiver 2013-2014 Fendi, Karl Lagerfeld, le directeur artistique de la section prêt-à-porter et fourrure et Sylvia Fendi, directrice créative des lignes accessoires femme ont voulu réinterpréter l’emblématique fourrure Fendi de manière exubérante. Comme trempée dans l’acide, la fourrure se pare de teintes pop et bouscule les codes du look bourgeois. Une inspiration qui se décrypte également au travers du croquis inital de Karl Lagerfeld, dévoilant une jeune femme à l’allure décidée entièrement vêtue de fourrure. Le couturier légende même son croquis d’adages tels que Fur is in the air, Fendi is fur, Fur is Fendi.

Croquis de Ralph Lauren pour sa collection automne-hiver 2013-2014

Une toque en velours, un col en peau de mouton, des broderies, du violet et du noir… ce croquis réalisé par Ralph Lauren dévoile une inspiration majeure de sa collection automne-hiver 2013-2014 : la Russie des Tsars et celle des cosaques. Une tendance entre voyage et romantisme à l’image de cette illustration réalisée au crayon et à l’aquarelle.

Croquis de Jean Paul Gaultier pour les costumes de scène de Madonna en 2012

Lorsque Jean Paul Gaultier voit Madonna chanter Holiday sur le plateau de Top of the Pops en 1983, c’est la révélation. La reine de la pop devient la muse du couturier qui rêve d’habiller son idole. Sept années plus tard, le fantasme devient réalité: en 1990, Madonna fait appel à lui pour concevoir les costumes de sa tournée mondiale Blond Ambition. Erotiques et ésotériques, les tenues de scènes créées par Jean Paul Gaultier incarnent l’harmonie qui règne entre les deux artistes. Ici le croquis de Jean Paul Gaultier pour la dernière tournée de Madonna MDNA en 2012, où l’on retrouve ce style si particulier du créateur, entre provocation et incorrection.

Gucci pour Florence Welch

Donatella Versace saison 2013 style Blondie ou Courtney Love.

Croquis de Karl Lagerfeld pour le Bal de la Rose signé Chanel

Créé en 1954 par la Princesse Grace de Monaco, le Bal de la Rose s’orchestra cette année par Karl Lagerfeld, à la demande de la Princesse de Hanovre, présidente de la Fondation Princesse Grace. Le créateur a ainsi illustré le carton d’invitation, le menu et a imaginé plusieurs costumes Chanel pour Rita Ora, qui assurait une partie du spectacle. Ici, le croquis de l’une de ces tenues de scènes, inspirée des robes des grandes cocottes de la Belle Epoque.

Croquis de Giorgio Armani pour la réalisation des costumes de scène de Lady Gaga 17 Avr 2013

René Gruau au masculin

Gruau, côté hommes…

Ce nom là semble indissociablement lié à une maison. Dites Gruau, et l’on entend Dior. Prononcez le nom de cet illustrateur culte, né Renato Zavagli Ricciardelli delle Caminate, et ce sont les femmes fleurs viennent à l’esprit, ces parisiennes insouciantes au glamour doré sur tranche, icônes d’une féminité retrouvée au lendemain de la guerre. C’est d’ailleurs en pleine révolution New Look – selon le mot de la légendaire Carmel Snow- que Christian Dior confie à René Gruau l’illustration  du fuselage éblouissant du tailleur Bar.

Si ses femmes aux courbes vertigineuses, à l’œil brillant et au sourire éclatant sont devenues autant d’incarnations mythologiques de la Parisienne sous toutes ses facettes, on connaît moins son travail sur l’autre sphère de la mode : l’homme. Néo-dandies ou nouveaux Arsène Lupin, les messieurs de René Gruau ont fleurit pendant des décennies dans les revues spécialisées : la revue Adam (fondée en 1925 et fermée en 1973), les magazines Sir ou Club s’arrachent ses hommes plein de style… et d’esprit.

Coco: « The legend and the life » (new book)

Ilustration by Karl Lagerfeld; Courtesy Christopher Anderson/Magnum photos

TAKING A PAGE FROM HER NEW BOOK CHANEL: HER LIFE, AUTHOR JUSTINE PICARDIE TELLS THE TALE OF THE DESIGNER’S STINT IN TINSELTOWN

On 19th January, 1931, film producer Samuel Goldwyn announced in Paris that Coco Chanel was coming to Hollywood. “After more than three years of constant effort, I have at last persuaded Madame [sic] Gabrielle Chanel, fashion dictator, to go to Hollywood to co-operate with me on the vexing question of film fashions,” he told The New York Times.

Goldwyn’s plan was a bold one. As the Great Depression tightened its grip on America and unemployment spread to a quarter of the workforce, he still believed that millions of people would want Hollywood entertainment at its most escapist and alluring. Goldwyn was determined to sign up Chanel and ensure that his film stars were dressed in cutting-edge Paris fashions, both on screen and off.

It was not the first time that her designs had been seen on a Hollywood actress—Ina Claire wore a striking Chanel black suit trimmed with red fox fur in The Royal Family of Broadway,
released by Paramount in 1930—but the deal with Goldwyn represented a far more significant role for Chanel. According to The New York Times, “She will reorganize the dressmaking
department of United Artists studios and anticipate fashions six months ahead, solving thereby the eternal problem of keeping gowns up to date…Thus, Madame Chanel may reveal the secret of all impending changes and the American women will be enabled to see the latest Paris fashions, perhaps, at times, before Paris itself knows them.”

It was an ambitious, costly and time-consuming project. Goldwyn had been wooing Chanel ever since meeting her with the Grand Duke Dmitri in 1929. According to an American journalist, who had interviewed Goldwyn for Collier’s magazine in 1931, “It all started in Monte Carlo. The Grand Duke Dmitri, of the Romanovs, quite casually introduced Samuel Goldwyn, of the movies, to Mlle. Gabrielle Chanel of Chanel. Pleasant talk, pleasant compliments, big inspiration, big contract—and the great Chanel had agreed to come to Hollywood to design clothes for the movies. Admittedly, it’s an experiment, a gamble, but on a million-dollar scale.”

In fact, the gamble cost far more than that. Goldwyn had finally secured Chanel’s agreement to the deal, after some lengthy hesitation on her part, by guaranteeing her a contract of $1 million. But further outlay was necessary, not least for the special costume department that he set up for her at his studios, employing over a hundred workers, with facilities for cutting, fitting and dyeing fabrics. It was a bold declaration of confidence, both on Goldwyn’s part, and on Chanel’s. “This is the first time a couturière of such importance, or indeed any, has left the native heath,” observed Janet Flanner in a wry report for The New Yorker. “Considering what universal style-setting means to Paris for the maintenance of its financial and artistic pulse, the departure of Chanel for California must be more important than that of Van Dyck for the English Court of Charles I.”

As it happened, there had already been an ill-starred precedent in 1925, when Goldwyn’s rival, Louis B. Mayer, hired Erté (the Russian-born designer and illustrator who worked in Paris for Paul Poiret). Erté hated his time in Hollywood, and declared upon his return to Paris that “film stars for the most part are illiterate, crotchety, unshapely,” and that American producers lacked “the slightest conception of elegance, beauty, or taste.”

Goldwyn had come up with an offer for Chanel that looked too good to refuse. The million-dollar deal was done at a time when the deepening Depression had hit Paris couture. Previously wealthy American clients whose fortunes had been wiped out were making hurried departures, and even Chanel was forced to cut her prices in half as a consequence.

And so it was that on 25th February, 1931, the woman now deemed a fashion dictator set off for the New World aboard the steamship Europa, arriving in New York on 4th March, accompanied by her close friend Misia Sert. Chanel was immediately overwhelmed by Goldwyn’s publicity machine. A reporter from The New York Times was one of many who mobbed her hotel suite, where Chanel appeared to be “rather bewildered at the scores of interviewers and reception committee members.” Despite the crowd and the flu, Chanel held her own, wearing “a simple red jersey gown with a short skirt of the severe kind which she first made popular in wartime France,” and issuing some suitably strict diktats: a chic woman should dress well but not eccentrically; long hair would soon be back in fashion; and men who used scent were disgusting.

Ten days later, Chanel departed by train from New York to Los Angeles. Goldwyn had arranged everything for maximum effect. The train was entirely white, and stocked with large quantities of French champagne, Russian caviar and American journalists, who reported on Chanel’s triumphant arrival in Hollywood. Greta Garbo was there to greet Chanel when the white train pulled into the platform—‘TWO QUEENS MEET’ trumpeted the headlines—and they were whisked off to a party at Goldwyn’s house. There Chanel met more Hollywood royalty: Marlene Dietrich, Claudette Colbert and the directors George Cukor and Erich von Stroheim, who allegedly kissed her hand and asked, “You are a seamstress, I believe?” Chanel, somewhat uncharacteristically, did not take offense, although she later remarked, “What a ham, but he really had style.”

Soon afterwards, the seamstress set to work on her first Goldwyn film, a musical called Palmy Days starring Eddie Cantor as an assistant to a fraudulent psychic, with dance routines by Busby Berkeley. The film was notable more for its flimsily clad girls than its implausible plot, and Chanel had insufficient time to supervise all the costume design. However, her instinct for fluidity and movement manifested itself in her decision to make four versions of a dress for the ingénue Barbara Weeks; each looked identical but was cut with minute yet precise variations, to be seen at its most flattering in different scenes, whether the actress was standing, sitting or dancing.

Chanel’s next job was on The Greeks Had a Word For Them, released in February, 1932. The title (and some of the storyline) had been changed from the original stage comedy, The Greeks Had a Word For It, in order to satisfy the censors; although, as Time magazine noted in its review, “Goldwyn was guided less by a sense of decency than a sense of decoration,” expressly crediting Chanel’s involvement. She dressed the three leads—Ina Claire, Joan Blondell and Madge Evans—who were playing glamorous showgirls-turned-gold-diggers. Thirty complete outfits were designed for the actresses.

Chanel’s third and final Goldwyn project was to dress Gloria Swanson as a prima donna opera singer in Tonight or Never; and this time, the entire process was undertaken in Paris. The film star, who was herself something of a diva, described her encounter with Chanel in her memoir, Swanson on Swanson. After a week of fittings in Paris, there had been a pause in the proceedings, when it dawned upon Swanson that she was unexpectedly pregnant. “The following day Coco Chanel, tiny and fierce, approaching fifty, wearing a hat, as she always did at work, glared furiously at me when I had trouble squeezing into one of the gowns she had measured for me six weeks earlier. It was black satin to the floor, cut on the bias, a great work of art in the eyes of both of us. I said I would try it with a girdle, but when I stepped before her again, she snorted with contempt and said anyone a block away could see the line where the girdle ended halfway down my thigh.

“‘Take off the girdle and lose five pounds,’ she snapped briskly. ‘You have no right to fluctuate in the middle of fittings. Come back tomorrow and we’ll finish the evening coat with the sable collar. Five pounds!’ she cried again, unable to restrain herself. ‘No less!’”

The following day, Swanson returned to Rue Cambon with a large roll of surgical elastic, and requested that it be made into “a rubberized undergarment to the knees, or rather, two or three dozen of them.” Chanel was horrified, but Swanson prevailed, citing “reasons of health”; and eventually, couture corsets were provided, constructed with as much attention to detail as every other garment in the atelier.

Tonight or Never proved to be Chanel’s last job for Goldwyn. The film—United Artists’ big Christmas release—opened to polite reviews (The New York Times described it as an “unusually striking production,” partly thanks to Chanel’s sartorial creations), but it flopped at the box office. She departed, according to The New Yorker, “in a huff,” having been told by the movie moguls that ‘her dresses weren’t sensational enough. She made a lady look like a lady. Hollywood wants a lady to look like two ladies.’ Still, she had made her million dollars—Goldwyn paid up without an argument—and Vanity Fair, at least, was sufficiently impressed to nominate Chanel to its 1931 Hall of Fame.

If Hollywood did not take to Chanel, then neither was she impressed by the might of the movies. In Paris, she had already collaborated as a costume designer with the most celebrated of modern artists: with Picasso and Cocteau on Antigone and Le Train Bleu; with Cocteau again in 1926 for his play Orphée (in which he described the character of Death appearing as “a very beautiful young woman in a bright pink ball-gown and fur coat”); and the Ballets Russes production of Apollon Musagète in 1929, composed by Stravinsky and choreographed by George Balanchine. Such triumphs counted for nothing in Hollywood, although Chanel was swift in returning the snub. In later years, when questioned about her trip into the heart of the film business, she was dismissive: “It was the Mont Saint-Michel of tit and tail.” And to Claude Delay, she emphasized her independence from the monolithic power of the studios: “The Americans wanted to tie me down, you see, because I out-fashion fashion. But I’m not for sale or hire. In Hollywood the stars are just the producers’ servants.”

But whatever the disappointments of Chanel’s encounter with Hollywood, her journey to America was nonetheless a significant one. For this was the place that she had conjured up for herself in childhood as her father’s promised land, the New World where he would make his fortune, having left his daughters behind with the nuns. Her friend Claude Delay remembers Chanel’s wistful story of finding herself lost in Beverly Hills with Misia one day, searching for an address that they could not find. Eventually, Misia noticed the name Chanel written on one of the gateposts.

Still believing in Coco’s story of her childhood, Misia cried out in astonishment, “It’s your father. We’ll find him and take him back with us. I’ll leave Sert.” Chanel’s only response was a tart comment that Sert had already left Misia. The rest was left unsaid, although Chanel’s ambivalence about America was to crop up again in her conversations with Delay. On the one hand, it was a continent that had made her rich, through the vast sales of her perfumes, for which Americans seemed to have an insatiable appetite. (“They’ll buy every luxury,” she said to Delay, “and the first of all luxuries is perfume.”) And yet part of her, austere as a nun, resisted the seductions offered to her by America. Describing her hotel suite in Hollywood to Delay, Chanel listed its comforts with a certain amount of contempt: two bedrooms and four television sets, including one that could be watched in the bathroom. “All that’s for people who have gone soft. The English hide everything, the Americans show everything! America is dying of comfort.” •

Excerpt from Coco Chanel: The Legend and the Life by Justine Picardie © 2010 It Books / HarperCollins Publishers

More of Amelie’s Bliss

Bliss#Amelie Hegardt

Known for her bleeding ink silhouettes & splashed watercolours, as well as her delicate, timeless and evocative style. Stockholm based fashion illustrator Amelie Hegardt has been commissioned by clients such as MAC cosmetics, Elle, Marie Claire, Bloomingdales, Lady Gaga, GAP (red), Guerlain, Neiman Marcus and Harrods. ONE WORD: BREATHTAKING!
J’ai déjà parlé d’elle.  Voici quelques nouveautés.  Ça me coupe le souffle!