Today, Viktor Horsting and Rolf Snoeren revisited 25 looks to mark their quarter century together as designer artists. But in scrambling the chronology, they made clear from the start that they had no interest in nostalgia. Instead, their nonlinear trip down memory lane was fully whitewashed and sprinkled in Swarovski fairy dust. In one fell swoop—or more accurately, a few months of studio workmanship—they merged opposing moods, ever-shifting volumes, and conceptual messaging into a coherent and irrefutably impressive creative statement. “There have been all these different seasons with all these different vibes—some romantic, some violent—but now everything gels,” said Horsting. “It’s somehow refreshing.” Hence the title, “Immaculate Collection.”
The show opened by taking us back to the “Blacklight” collection from Spring 1999. Meanwhile, the remake of their very first collection, for which they won the prize at the Festival d’Hyères in 1993, could be found at Look 21: a voluminous gown in tattered glory. Several creations, such as the tulle dress punctured with giant holes, were memory jogs back to their apex of experimentation—in couture but also in ready-to-wear, which ceased to exist since 2015. Apparently, upon informing the studio that they would be remaking it, painstakingly placing layer by layer of tulle, “there was a small revolution,” Snoeren half-joked. “We got a lot of pushback.”
Having covered their nine most recent couture collections, it was easy to spot the transformation of their “Wearable Art” deconstructed painting, now a white canvas speckled with gold and silver paint; the jacket hopefully still made from studio leftovers; and a version of the Dutch wax-dyed cloth, now colorless, its flower motif outlined in studs. Longtime followers will all have their favorites: the shirts-on-shirts, the all-in-one bed dress (white linens really are the best!), the dimensional “No” emerging from a trench (perhaps more relevant now than in 2008).
That’s the thing about looking back: Irony mellows and new readings emerge. To be sure, Viktor & Rolf will never be entirely free of gimmick, which is what has always made their approach polarizing. But the equalizing aspect of this exercise encourages the designs to be appreciated as a body of work—arguably even more so than their forthcoming Phaidon tome (copies were on view outside the show space) and their current exhibition at the Kunsthal Rotterdam.
To hear them tell it, this collection was not a self-assessment but a celebration. “It feels lighthearted, fun,” said Snoeren with his usual deadpan tone. By the end of the show, with all the models gathered on the glowing stage like some fabulously freakish beauty pageant, there was no reason to feel otherwise.
