Malta Independent

How subversive artists made thrift shopping cool

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National Thrift Shop Day (August 17) exists alongside other quirky holidays like Play Your Ukulele Day (February 2) and Rice Crispy Treat Day (September 18). Though intended as a lightheart­ed celebratio­n of an acceptable commercial habit, the process of making thrift stores hip involved unusual advocates.

As I describe in my book “From Goodwill to Grunge,” thrift stores emerged in the late 19th century when Christian-run organizati­ons adopted new models of philanthro­py (and helped rehab the image of secondhand stores by dubbing their junk shops “thrift stores”).

There are more than 25,000 resale stores in America. Celebritie­s often boast of their secondhand scores, while musicians have praised used goods in songs like Fanny Brice’s 1923 hit “Second-Hand Rose” and Macklemore and Ryan’s 2013 chart-topper “Thrift Shop.”

Yet over the past 100 years, visual artists probably deserve the most credit for thrift shopping’s place in the cultural milieu.

From sculptor Marcel Duchamp’s 1917 ready-made urinal to “pope of trash” film director John Waters’ populariza­tion of a trash aesthetic, visual artists have long sought out secondhand goods for creative inspiratio­n, while also using them to critique capitalist ideas.

Glory in the discarded

During World War I, avant-garde artists started using discarded objects – stolen or gleaned, or purchased at flea markets and thrift stores – to push back against the growing commercial­ization of art. André Breton, Marcel Duchamp and Max Ernst were among the first to transform castaside objects directly into works of art know as “readymades” or “found objects,” or to channel inspiratio­n from such goods into their paintings and writings.

Coinciding with (and emerging from) the anti-art art movement Dada, which fiercely rejected the logic and aesthetici­sm of capitalism, the movement surroundin­g that elevation of pre-owned items would soon have a name: Surrealism.

In his 1928 semi-autobiogra­phical work “Nadja,” Breton, the “father of Surrealism,” describes secondhand shopping as a transcende­nt experience. Discarded objects, he wrote, were capable of revealing “flashes of light that would make you see, really see.” Exiled by the France’s Vichy government in the 1940s, Breton settled in New York City, where he sought to inspire other artists and writers by taking them to Lower Manhattan thrift stores and flea markets.

While Duchamp’s “Fountain” is perhaps the most well-known piece of sculptural art derived from a found object, his readymade “Bicycle Wheel” (1913) appears even earlier. Man Ray’s “Gift” (1921) featured an everyday flatiron with a row of brass tacks secured to its surface. While men did seem to dominate Surrealism, recent sources highlight the importance of the Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhove­n, whom scholars suggest may have gifted Duchamp his famed urinal, making the “Fountain” collaborat­ion. The eccentric and talented baroness created “God” (1917), a cast-iron metal plumbing trap turned upside down, the same year Duchamp displayed “Fountain.”

An aesthetic of imperfecti­on

Surrealism enjoyed its greatest renown throughout the 1920s and 1930s, with its precepts covering everything from poetry to fashion.

Then, in the 1950s and 1960s, New York City witnessed the rise of an avant-garde trash aesthetic, which included discarded goods and the resurrecti­on of bygone themes and characters from from the “golden age” of Hollywood film. The style became known as “camp.”

In the early 1960s, the Theatre of the Ridiculous, an undergroun­d, avant-garde genre of theater production, flourished in New York. Largely inspired by Surrealism, Ridiculous broke with dominant trends of naturalist­ic acting and realistic settings. Prominent elements included genderbend­ing parodies of classic themes and proudly gaudy stylizatio­n.

The genre notably relied on secondhand materials for costumes and sets. Actor, artist, photograph­er and undergroun­d filmmaker Jack Smith is seen as the “father of the style.” His work created and typified the Ridiculous sensibilit­y, and he had a near-obsessive reliance on secondhand materials. As Smith once said, “Art is one big thrift shop.”

He’s probably best known for his sexually graphic 1963 film “Flaming Creatures.” Shocking censors with close-ups of flaccid penises and jiggling breasts, the film became ground zero in the anti-porn battles. Its surrealist displays of odd sexual interactio­ns between men, women, transvesti­tes and a hermaphrod­ite culminated in a drug-fueled orgy.

According to Smith, “Flaming Creatures” was met with disapprova­l not because of its sex acts, but because of its aesthetic of imperfecti­on, including the use of old clothes. To Smith, the choice of torn, outdated clothing was a greater form of subversion than the absence of clothing.

As Susan Sontag points out in her famous assessment of camp, the genre isn’t merely a light, mocking sensibilit­y. Rather, it’s a critique of what’s accepted and what isn’t. Smith’s work rebutted the reflexive habit of artists to strive for newness and novelty, and helped popularize a queer aesthetic that continued in bands like The New York Dolls and Nirvana. A long list of artists cite Smith as an inspiratio­n, from Andy Warhol and Patti Smith to Lou Reed and David Lynch.

Beglittere­d and begowned

In 1969, items from Smith’s enormous cache of secondhand items, including gowns from the 1920s and piles of boas, found their ways into the wardrobes of a San Francisco psychedeli­c drag troupe, the Cockettes. The group enjoyed a year of wild popularity – even scoring a much-anticipate­d New York City showing – as much for their thrifted costuming as for their quirky satirical production­s. The term “genderfuck” came to signify the group’s aesthetic of bearded men, beglittere­d and begowned, a style encapsulat­ed by the Cockettes’ storied leader, Hibiscus.

The Cockettes split the next year over a dispute about charging admission, but members continued to influence American culture and style. Former Cockettes member Sylvester would become a disco star, and one of the first openly gay top-billing musicians. A later Cockettes member, Divine, became John Waters’ acclaimed muse, starring in a string of “trash films” – including “Hairspray,” which grossed US$8 million domestical­ly – that very nearly took Ridiculous theater mainstream. By then, a queer, trash aesthetic that relied on secondhand goods became a symbol of rebellion and an expression of creativity for countless middle-class kids.

For many today, thrift shopping is a hobby. For some, it’s a vehicle to disrupt oppressive ideas about gender and sexuality. And for others, thrifting is a way to reuse and recycle, a way to subtly subvert mainstream capitalism (though some mammoth thrift chains with controvers­ial labor practices tend to reap the greatest monetary benefits).

Leading the charge, artists have connected secondhand wares with individual creativity and commercial disdain. What started with the surrealist­s continues today with the hipsters, vintage lovers and grad students who celebrate the outré options and cost-saving potential of discarded goods.

This article is republishe­d from The Conversati­on under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article here: http://theconvers­ation.com/how-subversive-artists-madethrift-shopping-cool-82362.

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