Though Ponte seems to have arrived on the scene fully formed, the pieces we see now are part of his third “series,” created by the elusive Englishman, Harry Pontefract. Pontefract views this project as an “ongoing body of work” that began during his time at Central Saint Martins. Back then, he spent countless nights crafting one-off pieces from old suitcases and his mother’s linens, delivering them for critiques at 6 AM, only to be “shouted at for not having enough work.” Selling these pieces helped fund his tuition, and the artist remembers those times as thrilling, albeit challenging.
After graduating, Pontefract found himself in Paris, working at Loewe before returning to London and focusing his attention on Ponte. The name “Pontefract” is shared with a town in West Yorkshire, its Latin origins meaning “broken bridge,” a fitting metaphor for the designer’s unconventional approach to Ponte. He embraces a multidisciplinary approach, blurring the lines between fashion, music, and art. “Contradictory” seems to be one of Pontefract’s favorite words, and a constant in his work. He might describe a look as “pure sex” or “our sort of a Chanel Catherine Deneuve suit” or “the most wrong cocktail dress in the world,” yet he values open-endedness and believes that how people interpret his designs reveals much about themselves.
Pontefract’s work is a bridge, not to nowhere, but into a world without fixed coordinates. His designs are characterized by the creation of distinct characters, a strong sense of physicality, and a sculptural sensibility. He balances exactitude, seen in the carefully misplaced shoulders or the artfully undone waistbands, with spontaneity.
One look, created entirely in the studio, featured fleeces from known sources. Shearling came from a business down the street, the pink shirt and pants were made from the lining of military sleeping bags, and another look was crafted from vintage M65 army jackets. Pontefract reveals a deep sensitivity: “Once you start to take them apart and they have the memories of whoever’s been wearing them in all the seams and everything, they’re such loaded garments. Even just doing something in that color, never mind out of old jackets, is going to be loaded…”
He also adds, “I think there’s a tenderness there and a frailty about doing such a generic archetype, which I love. I find it beautiful, the banality of [this look] next to something like the first look especially, and I guess if you want to go into it, I’m sure they do relate to me in the sort of brutality of both of them.” Two seemingly contradictory things can exist simultaneously in Ponte’s work. Time past and present intersect in a suit and a tutu dress painstakingly covered in 24 karat gold leaf. These pieces, like the hand-felted shearlings sewn to sheer tulle, will change and deteriorate over time.
Even without the sheepskins, there is a sense of life, perhaps even animality, in this collection. Fabric is draped on soft, sculptural forms in drippy, organic shapes, transforming the wearer into a religious icon, a chic nun, a walking edifice, or creating a new, dysmorphic silhouette.
This spring collection is full of characters, but without a set script or theme. Instead, Pontefract addresses “ongoing themes about memory and about all these raw emotions and feelings.” He goes further, stating, “It’s human nature and it’s primal, that’s what I’d say about the collection.” Captivating is the word that comes to mind. The unfiltered boldness of these painfully beautiful pieces, and the scope of the artist’s ambition means neutrality of opinion is not an option. Neither is resolution: in the spirit of Méret Oppenheim, Pontefract offers not a “déjeuner en fourrure” but a whole feast of fanciful designs that challenge the eye.
