‘the raven’ by edgar allan poe is read by carrie coon.
After a season away, Thom Browne came back to New York Fashion Week and took up the closing spot in spectacular fashion. The last time he was on a runway was July, when he made his couture debut at the Opera Garnier in Paris in his trademark theatrical style. Today he was back at the Shed in Hudson Yards, where he last staged his own retelling of The Little Prince. This time around, it was Edgar Allan Poe’s 1845 poem The Raven that inspired his mise en scène: In a snowy yard a bare limbed tree dressed in a giant Thom Browne puffer coat stood guard, with a model animating its branches; behind it was a lit window with a broken pane through which the other models emerged.
Browne’s shows are as much about theater as they are about showcasing his latest clothes. In Poe’s poem, a grieving student is visited by a raven who answers all his questions about his lost love Lenore with the same word: “nevermore.” It’s a story about loss and despair told in the most musical of language: “That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.”
When invited by Thom Browne to his show, closing NYFW, attendance is imperative. The theatrical presentation surpassed all expectations, and it was a great honor to witness his creative genius embodied in an Edgar Allen Poe theme. The experience evoked nostalgic memories of prep school days and summer reading, permeating the entire duration with an exhilarating sense of excitement.
Browne’s shows are as much about theater as they are about showcasing his latest clothes. In Poe’s poem, a grieving student is visited by a raven who answers all his questions about his lost love Lenore with the same word: “nevermore.” It’s a story about loss and despair told in the most musical of language: “That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.”
… take thy beak from out my heart …
as the raven, anna cleveland wears an oversized puffer tailcoat in deconstructed tuxedo suit tweed lined with white moire over a square shoulder dress, and trompe l’oeil shirt and vest tipped with ribbon and black pearl, with pleated grosgrain and silk ribbon applique.
At a showroom visit ahead of his show, Browne was asked if perhaps he’s tormented like The Raven’s protagonist, and laughed it off. “I grew up loving Edgar Allan Poe,” he said, “and also, I do always like for people to see that I’m an American designer.” Carrie Coon, The Gilded Age’s Bertha Russell, narrated the poem, which added an element of drama to the show that Browne’s previous outings haven’t always had, her delivery shifting as she read, from calm to quite agitated, until it edged into full-blown hysteria.
But Browne took great liberties. The ravens were joined by bugs, some in the formal tailoring of the 1910s (the illustrations of Georges Goursat, aka Sem, were inspirational) that were segmented horizontally like an insect’s body, and others more sculptural with the top layers peeling off the shoulders to reveal the underlayer, as if in the process of molting. Kafka’s Gregor Samsa came to mind.
As for the roses, some quick Googling revealed that starting in the 1930s an unidentified person that the media dubbed Poe Toaster used to visit the cenotaph that marked Poe’s original grave in Baltimore, Maryland, annually on his birthday, poured himself a glass of cognac and left three roses on the monument, along with the bottle of liquor, before departing. Whether or not there’s a connection there, the roses and the ravens will be ripe for the taking ahead of the Met Gala, whose “Sleeping Beauties” theme is connected to nature.
