This time three years ago, Henry Holland attended the party for that year’s Royal Academy Summer Exhibition, where he was photographed standing in front of a painting by the academician-artist Albert Irvin, who was then 91. “Then he wrote me a letter,” reported Holland. “He said, ‘I see you’ve bought one of my pieces!’ And I had to write him a letter back saying, ‘Um . . . it’s a little too expensive. But I love your work! And if you ever want to work on a collaboration . . . ’”
Irvin received Holland’s reply and declared he would love to collaborate. Then, in March 2015, Irvin sadly passed away at the age of 92. This collection honored Irvin’s enthusiastic endorsement of Holland’s approach. Working with the artist’s daughters and guardians of his estate, Priscilla and Celia, Holland has fashioned an exuberant graphic homage to his work that you needn’t know anything about Irvin to relish.
Yes, the patterns are adapted from Irvin’s works * Nova* (2014), Crosstown (2013 and the piece in front of which Holland was photographed), and Minerva (2014). Translated onto kicky poplin pants, zip-up minidresses, belted mini wrap dresses, flounced dresses, knits, and more, they needed no wall caption to declare themselves compelling to look at. The original * Nova* is still on the wall of Irvin’s studio in Stepney Green, which, thanks to the permission of his daughters, was the location of this lookbook shoot. Holland added his creative brushstrokes by translating Irvin’s colors into oversize sportswear pieces with steroid protuberances of ruffles. Limey yellow jumbo-cord dresses, a navy blue halter neck, and printed linen V-neck overalls in blocks of color were inspired by the artist’s attire.
The second influence running through the collection was the aesthetic of another passed creative pioneer, Anna Piaggi. Holland incorporated Piaggi’s predilection for sharply stylized tailoring with monochrome graphics—polka dots and zigzags—topped with the odd flourish of colorful interjection. The final jolt of happy coincidence here came courtesy of Holland’s stylist, Sam Ranger, who had suggested he approach jeweler and artist Andrew Logan to make some pieces to complement Irvin’s patterns. When he passed on the suggestion to Priscilla and Celia, they readily acquiesced: Logan had been a friend of their parents—and their mother never left the house without wearing one of his pieces. Serendipity.
