Workshops

Broadbent Gallery | Anne Bissonnette, Curator

Passion, creativity and craftsmanship merge in the hands of Ralph Rucci. For over two decades, Mr. Rucci has lived for his craft and has developed an exceptional body of work. He is an original known for his innovative approaches to cut and construction and for producing some of the world's finest garments. Since his first collection in 1981, he has set himself on a path where integrity, high standards and dedication meet.

Steadfastly, Ralph Rucci develops his techniques and pushes his own boundaries. He is an idealist who aims for perfection. With intellectual rigor and a boundless love of his craft, he has risen quietly in the ranks of designers who matter. Since the inception of his label, Chado, in 1994, he has drawn a sophisticated international clientele that was expanded in 2002 when he began presenting Haute Couture in Paris. As the world begins to pay attention, Ralph Rucci continues to follow the core principles behind Chado, a Japanese tea ceremony that involves life-long learning, respect, grace and tranquility.

Impervious to fads and to the increased theatricality of the couture world, Mr. Rucci's work mirrors his peaceful and introspective ways and draws inspiration from a wide range of sources. Creative construction is at the center of his design philosophy, but he also pays close attention to the properties of fabrics and to the ideas of the talented individuals who surround him. His roots run deep. He stands on the shoulders of great designers such as Balenciaga, Vionnet and Grès, as well as numerous creators and artists. Whether he draws from his own art work or that of Renaissance masters, he has the ability to synthesize and actualize his sources to create understated yet intricate and highly individualistic collections.

The quality of Ralph Rucci's work is exceptional in both his ready-to-wear and couture garments. His trademark meandering seams and gussets allow for better fit and ease of movement and, like most of the hand processes he and his staff develop, are a great source of pride. While Mr. Rucci is well-known and admired throughout the international fashion community for his impeccable garments, the Kent State University Museum exhibition represents the first major public display of his work. Join us and see what happens when technique, impeccable fit and quality unite with originality, clarity and joy. Look beyond the ordinary and experience the majestic, the serene, the subtle universe of Ralph Rucci.

Mull and Palmer Galleries | Anne Bissonnette, Curator

Curvilinear, pliable and changing while in motion, the human body is a never ending design challenge to individuals who aim to clothe it. To cover with cloth (a.k.a. clothing) has long meant the use of what is essentially a two-dimensional medium to cover a three-dimensional form. Draped on the body and held at strategic places, as seen in the Greek chiton or the Indian sari, or cut and assembled, cloth remains the most common medium used to produce a garment. When cloth is cut, most designers use a system of patterns based on orthogonal projections to fragment the body into flat planes. To achieve maximum use of the cloth, ease assembly and make the garments stronger, pattern pieces are usually applied on the grain of the fabric where the bulk of the motion will occur. The grain describes the sturdiest threads in the grid-like structure of the cloth that run the length of the fabric (warp), while the width threads (weft) are referred to as the cross-grain and are usually weaker. While most garments created with flat patterns tend to segment the body into front and back and limit expandability, a few designers have retained a vision of the body as a three-dimensional curvilinear life form and have drawn on spiraling and elliptical elements to achieve a different fit, ease or aesthetic.

Among the first and most important individuals to dwell on spiraling and elliptical concepts was Madeleine Vionnet (1876-1975), an as yet unsurpassed engineer in garment construction. Vionnet learned her trade from the ground up, entering the profession as a seamstress at age eleven. In time, she mastered sewing, cutting and draping techniques, became a première d'atelier at the House of Callot Soeurs in 1900 and, in 1907, was hired as modeliste (designer) at the House of Doucet at age thirty one. She eventually broke free from established practices when setting up her own couture house in Paris in 1912. By studying carefully her medium, cloth, and the ways fabrics of different fibers and weave structures could be draped, cut and sewn to achieve greater elasticity and fluidity, she pushed the boundaries of dressmaking. She also changed the world of fashion by reintegrating women's bodies-uncorseted and uninhibited-into garments that could move with them. One of the ways she achieved this feat was to place pattern pieces diagonally on the fabric's grid, technically known as the bias. As there are no supporting threads in this direction, only air, the fabric falls differently as the grid structure expands and contracts under strain or to conform to the body. An admirer of Greek pottery and geometry, Vionnet also instigated new ways of cutting: respecting the three-dimensionality of the body, she created new gowns by draping a half-scale figure on a swirling piano stool as a potter would his or her work. This naturally led to spiraling designs where the experienced eye can follow the diagonal direction of the grain around the body. Inspired by the golden section-the Greek law of proportion-and by Greek dress, she also created garments where decorative treatments and overall aesthetics reinterpreted Classical styles.

Madeleine Vionnet opened the way for others. Many disciples followed her lead both in her construction techniques and in her appreciation of the body in the round and in motion. Though her house of couture closed briefly during WWI and completely in 1939 at the onset of WWII, she left a lasting legacy of critical thought applied to dressmaking.

Higbee Gallery | Dr. Anne Bissonnette, Curator

We live in an era where less is more and informality is the norm. Although we might think that very little can shock us, fashion has a way of continually make us reassess our standards of propriety. The clothes we wear are part of an infinitely complex cultural system that can change with time and space. If understanding fashion today is a delicate process, looking back in time is a mine field, but the process is essential as few things are more intimately linked to a person's existence and sense of self.

The period from 1780 to 1825 is one of rapid transitions and offers many parallels with our times. Heavily defined by an appreciation for strong and healthy bodies and marked by a love of nature and the growing importance of sports, the idealism brought about by the rediscovery of ancient Greek and Roman culture in the first half of the eighteenth century led to changes in art, politics and culture that affect us to this day. In addition to igniting new interest in philosophy and systems of government, Classicism brought back an impossible standard of perfection and vigor to the human body. By the last quarter of the century, two types of children's clothes no longer designed to mimic adult garments were worn: the white linen "frock," a one piece dress with a high waistline and a deep neckline, and the skeleton suit, a bodice and trousers ensemble buttoned at the waist. These were intended to strengthen young children's bodies by exposing them to the elements as well as give them more ease to play. If on the one hand children were liberated from hair pomade and powder and from the boned stays that once molded their bodies to achieve perfect posture, they also were immersed in cold water at a time when baths were taken only rarely and for therapeutic reasons. Ancient stoicism was at play and helped to propel the child's frock to new heights.

As the neoclassical admiration for statuesque nudity influenced the world of fashion, women began to abandon conical boned stays and thick brocades for thinner fabrics such as the semi-transparent muslins that outlined the figure and helped to suggest the clinging drapery of Classical times. The color palette became lighter and more suggestive of the natural or "naked" look. Unadorned simplicity came to the forefront with the emergence of the chemisegown, brought to the world's attention in 1783 by Elizabeth Vigée-Lebrun's scandalous portrait of Queen Marie-Antoinette wearing what many considered to be underclothes. After over a century of using the change of chemise, or shift, as the means to cleanse the body in lieu of using water, this garment was skin by proxy and, as a result, the new gown was truly appalling to many.

Considered immodest, indecent and a sign of social decay by some, the extreme fashions of the late 18th and early 19th centuries expressed the political, social and artistic unrest of their era. What was first worn in a state of "undress" soon became the fashion. The artifacts presented here trace the transformation of the typical 18th century silhouette into the linear high-waist style of the early 19th century. As described by Abigail Adams during her European residency in the 1780s, fabrics became "as light and thin as possible" and art and morality collided in this new vision of the body.

Decorative Arts Center of Ohio, in Lancaster, Ohio | Dr. Anne Bissonnette, Curator

Split between nature, culture and sculpture, hair is a multifaceted topic and a medium of expression that is often overlooked. It can speak loudly and it did when, at the end of the 18th century, democratic ideals caused major social and political schisms that literally changed the face of fashion. By the 1790s, wigs and towering hairdos were going out of favor and new styles rooted in classicism ushered in an era of increased individuality.

Wearing one's own hair in its natural color was part of an ideological and aesthetic revolution. Tradition had called for the wearing of wigs and elaborately curled and powdered hair which was, at first, the prerogative of the elite. By the end of the 18th century, after almost two centuries of wig-wearing, the practice was firmly anchored across the economic spectrum. Made of human or animal hair, feathers and even metal wire, wigs were plentiful and could be purchased new or second-hand in a multitude of styles and prices. They were, by 1790, a symbol of social conformity. Even those that did not wear wigs often tried to imitate their appearance.

Hair that was neither styled nor powdered was seen as extremely informal. If appearing as such in loose-fitting clothing was perfectly fine when one stayed at home in a state of "undress," there were specific rules for appearing in public where one was to appear in a state of "half dress" or, for formal occasions, mostly for evenings and court attendances, in "full dress." Being seen in public with hair that had not been "dressed" was thus a breach in protocol.

The first sign of change was the appearance of disheveled styles. This blatant lack of careful attention echoed the growing love for the natural world reflected in the works of philosophers such as Jean-Jacques Rousseau. The Age of Reason was failing and being replaced by its antithesis, nature and sentiment. Informality in hairstyles, as in dress, became the growing trend of the last two decades of the 18th century. By the 1790s, a new ideal of beauty had emerged.

This exhibition chronicles fifty years of intense changes and explorations. From the frizzy heads with a careless attitude, to the drastically short hairstyles of women and man, to the growing sideburns of dandies, this study explores how ideology, politics, aesthetics, gender roles, nature and artificiality collide to create a unique expression of self.

Stager Gallery | Jean L. Druesedow, Director

Perhaps nothing symbolizes the artistry, industry and affectionate nature of women as much as the quilts and comforters they make for their families and friends. Over centuries, through effort and fine needlework, women have given expression to their aesthetic sensibilities. Needlework is a means of socializing and contributing to a sense of community and provides opportunities for women to work together, help each other and share in the joy of a completed project.  The quilts in this exhibition all were made around the middle of the 19th century and, unlike the comforters, were made more for show than for warmth since they either have no batting or a very thin layer. Without batting it is possible to make very fine stitches, and in these quilts there are about ten stitches to the inch. The fabric for these special quilts probably was purchased especially for the project. Such a quilt might be taken out of the linen closet and used for special occasions. Each was carefully preserved to be passed down through the generations.   Comforters, on the other hand, were made for warmth with a heavy batting held in place by tufting stitches. They were intended to be utilitarian and were an economical means of using up the less worn pieces of old woolen clothing or dressmaking scraps. These two comforters were made toward the end of the 19th century, after the fad for crazy quilts had peaked, but both show the influence of that style. The small size indicates that they might have been intended for children's beds or perhaps for use as lap robes.Making quilts and comforters continues to be a favored pastime for women. Now many use computerized sewing machines to achieve complex stitching patterns, but today's quilters remain awed by the skilled hand-done needlework of the past.

Alumni Gallery | Jean L. Druesedow, Director

On February 25, 1978, Shannon Rodgers purchased a "blue silk robe and petticoat brocaded in silver, English, 1750," from Cora Ginsburg Antique Textiles in New York City. At the time, the dress was configured in a style approximating the 1770s, although the textile was probably created around 1750. It was included in the original Silverman/Rodgers gift that established the Kent State University Museum. When I first saw the dress in 1993, I noticed machine stitching, something definitely not possible in the 18th century, and it piqued my curiosity about the history of the dress. I decided to try to discover whether or not the original shape and style of the dress might still exist under all the modern stitching. Once the sewing machine stitching and modern thread had been removed, the dress fell into 57 pieces. In 1995 I presented a description of the dress and a hypothesis on reconstruction at a symposium at Winterthur, but nothing more happened to the project until I showed the dress to my Honors History of Costume I class in 2003, and asked if anyone wanted a project. Kristina Hill volunteered, and chose to use her work on the dress as her Senior Honors Thesis.

We began to examine the dress during the summer of 2005. Christine Paulocik, Costume Conservator at the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, tested a piece of the fabric to see if it could be wet cleaned before we proceeded to wash the pieces. Gary Harwood, Coordinator of Photography at Kent State, photographed a complete pattern repeat and we copied it until we had fifteen yards of xeroxed "fabric" so that we would have a guide for trying to find the original placement of the pieces. All summer we worked with the placement of the pieces as if they were a part of a large jigsaw puzzle. It became clear early on that my hypothesis presented at Winterthur was incorrect and that we were looking at quite a different dress. Once we had each piece placed on the pattern repeats we discovered that there were cuts across full fabric widths and all of the cuts were same length - just the right length to make an eight panel skirt in a mid-18th-century silhouette. Rita Brown, experienced in the restoration of 18th-century garments, consulted with us and encouraged us to continue. Kristina began to stitch the pieces onto sheer silk crepeline in the skirt lengths that we had found. We discovered missing sections that Kristina replicated using the industrial digital embroidery machine at The Fashion School with the help of Dr. Elizabeth Rhodes and Linda Öhrn-McDaniel. The digitizing process itself was an important learning experience. Kristina color coded each type of silver thread used in the brocade. This was sent to StitchInvaders, a digitizing firm in New Mexico. Fiber artist Janice Lessman-Moss, Professor of Art at Kent State, dyed new silk to blend with the old. Various embroidery threads were tested to see what would best blend with the old silver of the dress. There were mysteries, of course, and decisions to make regarding the final placement once the eight panels were assembled. We laid the panels out and discovered that there were two distinct pattern repeats that when alternated, created a serpentine pattern across the width of the skirt. As we placed the panels, we discovered crease lines that were consistent across the panels indicating that we had most probably discovered the original configuration. My curiosity about the dress and my desire to reconstruct it, were the direct result of my years working with Elizabeth Lawrence, then the Master Restorer at the Costume Institute. Liz had an intuitive approach to 18th-century garments that she called "sleuthing at the seams." She worked on dresses patiently for years, waiting until they "spoke" to her, looking for the evidence of former seams, former pleats, former "lives." It is the memory of Liz, her wisdom and her patience that have been very much a part of this undertaking. It is the very real, hard and patient work of Kristina Hill that has brought the project to fruition.

Palmer and Mull Galleries | Fred Smith & Jordan Fenton, Guest Curators

Establishing authenticity for African art objects has been a concern of academics, museum curators, collectors and gallery dealers for more than fifty years. The continuing scholarly fascination was reflected in the 1976 special issue of African Arts on "Fakes, Fakers and Fakery". However, the question of what defines authenticity for the visual culture of Africa is complex and only some aspects of the issue have been investigated. Early studies focused on establishing categories based on style that unfortunately did not fully reflect the diversity of materials and forms worked in Africa much less their value to African peoples. Objects that were made in Africa - in an recognized ethnic style - by African Artists for African patrons were classified as authentic. Although useful, there are limitations to such an approach. The awareness of style as a fluid and multidimensional concept is basic to understanding the dynamics of African art. There are many levels in which style can function and these range from an individual level to a large cultural area. The style of any ethnic group consists of the varied individual and local styles of particular periods and media.

Moreover, ethnic groups in Africa are not and have never been hermetically sealed, static units but rather characterized by shifting patterns reflecting migrations, borrowings, adaptations and various types of internal change. It is therefore necessary to recognize change and adaptation when attempting to establish authenticity. The concept of cultural authentication suggested by Joanne Eicher and Tonye Erekosima in 1979 suggests a useful approach for understanding the process of change. Cultural authentication requires not merely the acquisition and borrowing of artifacts but their transformation (at different levels of adaptation) to make them part of the receiving culture . The authentication of the item for the receiving culture is achieved through the alteration of its original nature or appearance. A prime example is the Ijo pelete bite cloth in which a plaid commercial cloth is altered by cutting and pulling threads to create a new design. . As a result of this transformation the item also assumes a new social role and meaning. For thousands of years, new materials, objects and techniques have been introduced into Africa from the outside and modified to fit indigenous needs and tastes. The use of commercial paint, plastic, trade beads, lurex thread or imported textiles, for example, does not necessary invalidate the authenticity of an object. Yet, art showing evidence of modernity is often rejected by collectors and museum curators seeking their idea of authenticity.

As elsewhere in the world, patronage is an important aspect of the art process. In an art patronage system, producers, consumers and products are linked in dynamic interactions that continually recreate art traditions in response to patron demands. Out group patronage can have significant impact on the style or even function of an art form. Visitors from Europe and America have instilled new meanings into African art from the 16th century to the present day. Since the mid-20th century, there have existed lively workshops producing objects for the Western market that range from reproductions of traditional forms to tourist art or Afrokitsch.

A major determinant for authenticity is that of function. Many scholars have maintained that an object - no matter what it's appearance - which has not been used in a traditional context at it's place of origin is not authentic. However, others contend that different types of authenticity may coexist. African societies have changed dramatically since the early 20th century - including the nature of African art. To base authenticity exclusively on old ideas of what constitutes style and function is not intellectually sound. When considering the African diaspora or recent developments in contemporary African art, the idea that only objects "made in Africa, by Africans for Africans are African" breaks down. This issue and others will be explored further by Jordan Fenton in his essay, which will also make more direct reference to works in the exhibit.

Stager Gallery | Jean L. Druesedow, Director

Directions for making crazy quilts first appeared in ladies' magazines in 1882. They were the first style of quilt for which commercial patterns were widely available. Kits cold be purchased containing a variety of silk fabrics and embroidery threads, as well as embroidery transfer patterns responsible for many of the charming designs found in the quilts. The public fascination with the Japanese pavilion at the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia in 1876 also encouraged the production of designs based on oriental motifs, especially fans. The asymmetry of Japanese art also may have influenced the use of irregular pieces of fabric in these quilts. Many of the quilts contain mementos meaningful to the maker such as wedding dates, ribbons or scraps from a favorite dress, political campaign ribbons, and flowers with symbolic meaning such as forget-me-nots.

More silk fabrics were used in both fashionable dress and quilts in the last quarter of the 19th century because of the increased availability of silk produced in the United States after the Civil War. More raw silk was imported from the Orient, shipped overland on the new transcontinental railroad, and tariffs on finished imported silk goods protected the American silk industry. Cotton was expensive after the Civil War. This economic shift is discussed by Ellice Ronsheim in "From Bolt to Bed: Quilts in Context," in Quilts in Community, Ohio's Traditions, the book resulting from the Ohio Quilt Research Project published by Rutledge Hill Press in 1991. Thus silk dresses, previously a luxury reserved for special occasions, became accessible to a much wider group of women for day wear, and there were more silk scraps to be used in quilts. After the industrial revolution, production of silk in the 19th century involved the use of metallic salts to give cheaper fabrics a better draping quality. Many of these salts contributed over the years to the irreversible deterioration of the fabrics. This can be seen in the now shredded and fractured silks of crazy quilts.

The technique for making a crazy quilt involved laying out a piece of foundation fabric the size of the finished quilt and arranging the various pieces on it in pleasing patterns and juxtapositions. Prior to assembly images might be embroidered or painted on the silk fabrics. Appliqué and ribbon work were frequently used. The edges were cut and shaped so that the pieces could be seamed together. Then the seams were covered with a variety of embroidery stitches made through the foundation fabric to give the quilt stability. After the pieces were stitched to the foundation, batting and backing were added.

Crazy quilts were fragile because of their fabrics and ornamentation, so they were usually placed for show in the parlor where visitors could admire them. They were an expression of Victorian taste which was informed by ladies' magazines and books on interior decoration. It was a taste that utilized the vivid colors of new synthetic dyes, a full complement of industrially produced furniture upholstered with patterned fabrics placed against patterned carpets and wallpapers. Visually, too much was not enough. Although some women continued to make crazy quilts into the 20th century, the fad for them began to wane as early as the December 1887 issue of Godey's Lady's Book where the editors declared, "We regretted much the time and energy spent on the most childish, and unsatisfactory of all work done with the needle, 'crazy' patch-work . . . ." We are fortunate that not all quilters felt the same, for today the crazy quilt allows us a glimpse of the sentiment and taste of late Victorian needlework.

East Gallery | Jean L. Druesedow, Director

By the second quarter of the nineteenth century, handwoven wool and cotton coverlets kept many Americans warm at night and brightened the beds of the young nation with bold, colorful designs. Often in shades of red, white and blue, utilizing patriotic symbols interspersed with floral and geometric motifs, these coverlets demonstrated pride in country and special events as well as love of color and pattern.

For many decades collectors of early American antiques have found the designs of these woven coverlets intriguing, and have wondered at the circumstances of their creation. Luckily many weavers inscribed coverlets with their names, the places of manufacture and the names of the people for whom the coverlets were made. Luckily for us, scholars and collectors have traced the origins of many of the weavers. For over twenty years Clarita S. Anderson has documented coverlets and has established a database at the University of Maryland. The most recent publication of her work, American Coverlets and Their Weavers, published in 2002 by The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation in association with Ohio University Press, provides information about more than 700 coverlet weavers. However, there are still undocumented coverlets and unidentified weavers, so the project is ongoing. She has found that most of the weavers were first, second or third generation immigrant men from Germany, England, Scotland, Ireland and France with over half of German descent.

The coverlets were woven on hand looms by professional weavers who might also provide carpets and household linens. As the weaving industry mechanized in New England, the hand loom weavers moved to the Mid-Atlantic and Midwestern states where most of these coverlets were made for middle class customers. The looms were draw looms, barrel looms or those fitted with then new Jacquard attachments that could create curvilinear designs and lettering mechanically. The Jacquard loom, developed by Joseph Marie Jacquard, was first exhibited at the Industrial Exposition at Paris in 1801. It is thought to have arrived in America and been fitted for coverlet and carpet weaving by 1825. This invention made figured and fancy pattern weaving efficient, economical and affordable for the middle class who relished the variety of designs available to them. Most weavers probably purchased paper patterns for their designs, the majority following popular taste. Some weavers purchased a license for a certain geographic area or a franchise that provided a loom and materials in return for part of the income, but most weavers seem to have owned their own looms and lived in the communities where they worked. Weavers might supply the natural cotton warp and weft for coverlets but use homespun and dyed wool provided by the customer for the colored wefts.

The coverlets in the museum's collection are woven with two different structures, double weave and a structure known as tied Beiderwand. Double woven cloth consists of two separate cloths woven simultaneously and joined together according to a pattern. The cloths are joined when the warps forming the back cloth are brought forward and the warps forming the front are taken back, creating a reversible design. Thus, in the case of the blue and white coverlets in the exhibition, where they are blue on one side they are white on the other. The interchange of colors forms an air pocket that adds to the warmth to the coverlet. Doublecloth requires two sets of warps and two sets of wefts. Tied Beiderwand also results in a reversible fabric, but there are no areas of doublecloth. This method requires only one set of warp threads with specified threads (sometimes dyed blue) used to "tie down" the pattern. In the process, fine ribs are created on both sides of the textile. All the coverlets in the exhibition, with the exception of the all wool "Summer and Winter" coverlet in the case, are a combination of wool and cotton. Generally the warp threads are natural colored cotton and the weft threads are a combination of colored wool and natural colored cotton.

The popularity of figured and fancy coverlets waned after the onset of the Civil War due to the experience of war, the increasing mechanization of the textile industry which put commercial hand loom weavers out of business, and changing taste. After the war few coverlets were produced by hand. The traditions encompassed by the early coverlets, however, have reappeared in the decorative "throws" produced commercially today with computerized looms. An example for you to examine is below.

Broadbent Gallery | Jean L. Druesedow, Director

From the moment he discovered his passion and talent for fashion design, Oscar de la Renta created elegant day and evening wear for discerning women. He has never lost sight of the woman who will ultimately wear his creations or her lifestyle, for he maintains active engagement with the fashion industry and with the social milieu in which his clients move. Oscar de la Renta's insight and appreciation of the needs of his clients are rewarded by their loyalty.

The Kent State University Museum has been the recipient of three important gifts from Oscar de la Renta that encompass his career. In 1983 he presented the founders, Shannon Rodgers and Jerry Silverman, with 45 pieces from his Spring 1982 collection. Again in 1986 he presented 38 pieces from the earliest phase of his career beginning with dresses he created for Jane Derby in 1965. In response to a request to lend dresses from a current collection for this exhibition, Oscar de la Renta has given the museum four spectacular pieces from his Spring 2006 collection. The exhibition is drawn from these gifts and those of other donors and spans his career from his arrival in New York in 1963 until the present.

Oscar de la Renta was born in the Dominican Republic July 22, 1932. He studied art in Madrid beginning in 1951 and apprenticed with Balenciaga while in Spain. In 1961 he went to Paris where he worked as a design assistant to Antonio Castillo at the House of Lanvin. He arrived in New York in 1963 to design the couture collection for Elizabeth Arden, and soon Vogue for April 1, 1963, described a coat and hat by "Elizabeth Arden's new talked-of young designer, Oscar de la Renta." Believing that ready-to-wear would be the future of fashion, he began a partnership with Jane Derby in 1965, acquiring a portion of the company with the financial backing of Ben Shaw. Jane Derby died on August 9, 1965, and the label was changed to Oscar de la Renta's name alone in 1966. However, he was linked with the Jane Derby label in Vogue magazine editorial spreads through April 15, 1967. In partnership with Ben Shaw's son, Gerald, Oscar de la Renta took full control of the company in 1974. Gerald Shaw retired as president and CEO in 1994 and was succeeded by Jeffrey Aronsson who held the position until 2003 when Alex Bolen became CEO. The combination of exceptional design and excellent corporate management has enabled the continued success of the company.

This exhibition highlights the consistent design approach to creating collections that include as many as 93 different looks, as did the 1982 collection, and demonstrates the masterful use of theme and variations in building the large and diverse collections Oscar de la Renta shows each year. DVDs of the Spring 1982 and the Spring and Fall 2006 collections, to be seen in the adjacent viewing room, provide a larger context for the pieces shown in the exhibition.

The Kent State University Museum is grateful to the Friends of Fashion for their support of this exhibition, to the Ohio Arts Council for a two year Sustainability Grant, and to the John P. Murphy Foundation for a grant to enhance museum lighting.