Feature

The Italian Rapscallion

Clockwise, from left: Marisa Berenson as Edith Piaf; Vezzoli's "Homage to Francesco Scavullo" series, in which teardrops are embroidered onto Scavullo portraits, here of Brooke Shields and Elizabeth Taylor; the star for Marlene Dietrich, object of Vezzoli's obsession in A True Hollywood Story.

(Photo: Clockwise from left: Courtesy of MOCA, Los Angeles; Courtesy of Galleria Franco Noero, Turin; Courtesy of Gio Marconi Gallery, Milan; Courtesy of Collection François Pinault)

Because Vezzoli exists at the center of the art-celebrity-fashion nexus that is, controversially, defining the art world now—witness the cover of W magazine’s art issue, in which Richard Prince “autographs” head shots of Julia Roberts and Britney Spears—he spends a huge amount of time negotiating a position about it all. “I am trying to analyze the fact of celeb- rity culture,” he says. “It is more and more strongly related to the dynamics of the art world.

“In Europe, in the past, the collectors were hypersophisticated people,” he adds, the implication being that collectors were discreet enough to stay out of artists’ hair, and this, perhaps, is no longer the case. “Artists in one way or another have to adjust to the Establishment being closer to contemporary art than it ever was. It’s nobody’s fault, it’s just a very natural dynamic. We are the object of desire of so many structures.

“I am often accused of wanting it both ways,” he admits, “to share in the celebrity of my actors, but at the same time, I crave for a sort of intellectual acceptance.”

Vezzoli has long been fixated on having it both ways: He wrote his thesis for Central Saint Martin’s College of Arts, in London, about homosexual subtexts in a Brazilian telenovela, and he explains that these days he’s over having it both ways sexually (“I realized I cannot fuck women, but I love women, so I work with women”) and is far more interested in having it both ways famewise. In A True Hollywood Story, a faux critic ascribes Vezzoli’s faux demise to his love of fame: “He thought that by drawing celebrities into his work, he would become a celebrity.” In Vezzoli’s mock critique, this leads to endless watching of The Golden Girls (even when young rent boys are there to distract him) and obsessing over Marlene Dietrich before his eventual death in a glassy Hollywood pool.

Right You Are (If You Think You Are) is, in many ways, an examination of celebrity culture: It is about what happens to one’s identity when it is the subject of intense speculation and projection. At the heart of the play is Madame Ponza, a women who, in her absence, is assigned any number of identities by the people of Chaos, the town where she lives. She is this one’s wife, that one’s niece, etc. “It is a perfect mirror for the studies I do of public identities,” Vezzoli says. “Because the woman basically claims that she has no identity in function of all the identities that are applied to her.” And who better to do it than Cate Blanchett, who has been busy recently adopting identities not her own—Bob Dylan, Queen Elizabeth.

As for Vezzoli’s role: “I am not the director, I am the enabler,” he says. “If you ask me, Nijinsky or Diaghilev, the answer is Diaghilev. I mean, I love Nijinsky. But Diaghilev. This is my Ballets Russe. Forgive me the ambition, but I try.”

“I very much appreciate Francesco’s work,” says Miuccia Prada, “because of the strong political content that is generally underestimated. What people get is usually the involvement of famous people, but what is really powerful in his work is the deconstruction of the mediatic system.”

And then, of course, it’s just really fun to meet all the famous people you’ve always admired. “If you are true to your art,” Vezzoli says, “you use your professional identity to meet people you like, which sounds horrible. But I’ve used my projects to meet people I am passionate about. I have an obsession for Gore Vidal, you know, so there you go.”