h: If you could curate an exhibition without any limitations—budget, space, time—what would it be about, and where would you stage it?
ADN: I don’t work so much with dreams. I’m triggered by limitations, sometimes starting from very small things. It’s difficult for me to think about dreams in such a difficult moment—dreams are really few. I really act as an architect: I start from the main element in the space, in the archive—one piece can starts a critical reflection.
h: How do you think the role of the curator is changing today? Has it become more about storytelling, activism, caretaking?
ADN: It’s a moment in which it’s important to be critical, having a critical point of view on questions and trying to find a language to express, or medium—whatever it is, your way to express your idea. Nowadays, curation is for everything, even for an Instagram profile. How can you try to be critical? To reactivate archives or work of an artist or fashion designer from a perspective that is contemporary? This role is changing, especially in fashion because it is not the same as a curator from previous generations.
For them, fashion — and especially the fashion exhibition — represented the expression of a curator’s vision, a kind of authorial statement, following a mythology shaped by figures such as Harald Szeemann. It was a context in which to assert an idea, to select what was necessary in order to build a concept. As Valerie Steele once put it in an article for Fashion Theory, “A fashion museum is more than a clothes-bag.”
Today, however, we are increasingly moving toward an approach that starts from the fashion object itself, which is now studied in a more scientific way — as an important form of evidence, carrying intrinsic values. That, I think, is the major difference compared to previous generations. Fashion is now more widely recognized as a form of identity, cultural and social expression — as a synthesis of a society’s thinking, or that of a particular group, culture, or subculture; as something that encapsulates both tangible and intangible heritage.
At the same time, I sometimes find the academic context of fashion studies — even among younger generations — a bit oppressive because of its tendency toward closure and its loss of connection and dialogue with other disciplines. Of course, it depends on the context, but when fashion only speaks about fashion, it risks becoming less relevant. The development of new methodologies applied to the study of fashion is certainly crucial, but it’s equally important to understand that fashion is a point of contact among very different forms of expression — and it’s precisely at that intersection that my own practice takes place.
There are still many open questions concerning the museography and museology of the fashion system. One of the central ones is that of display: how can we exhibit objects that were conceived in relation to movement and to a living, vibrant body that activates them? I believe this remains an open field of exploration. Some have found ways through performance-based systems, others through architectural strategies, but there is still much to be discovered.
h: In an era when fashion is often reduced to content, how can curators reassert its depth—as a system of meaning, not just a product?
ADN: I don’t think fashion is disconnected from the new perspectives in curation. Sometimes, however, it can be too connected, because I don’t want every fashion exhibition to be politically correct or always focused on contemporary issues, which can sometimes become boring. Contemporary concerns are important, but so is history and understanding what lies behind it. At this moment, maintaining that kind of balance is crucial.
For example, I greatly admire what they do at the MOMU in Antwerp. Their interdisciplinary approach resonates with mine, while always keeping a fresh, contemporary perspective. Their exhibitions are beautiful and simple in structure—I love how they arrange them.
There’s always a perspective that starts from the contemporary but is rich with inspiration from the past. That’s the key for me. Every exhibition evokes this feeling. I constantly engage in a dialogue or comparison with an artist or an idea that sparks my interest. The topics are intriguing, because fashion itself is intriguing. Fashion is also fun—something you have to play with. When it becomes too serious, it loses its appeal. These are dresses—they remain vibrant, giving life. But when they become overly serious, they become less interesting.
h: Your recent project at 10 Corso Como centers on the legacy of Yohji Yamamoto—an icon of radical elegance and poetic deconstruction. While curating the project, did you uncover aspects of Yamamoto’s archive or philosophy that surprised you—or that felt particularly resonant with today’s cultural moment?
ADN: What surprised me, like with all the great artists and designers, was that everything was so contemporary. It was interesting to look at those shapes and to see that it was difficult to understand what was done thirty years ago and what was done now, because the strong message is always the same. It is about the relationship of the body with how you can create space for the soul to embrace every kind of body, having this sort of cocoon space around the body in which you can feel comfortable and yourself—the opposite of the fashion-renowned way.
It was fascinating to discover that, much like Rei Kawakubo, both arrived in Paris in the 80s driven by a deep admiration for French fashion, yet with the intention of revolutionizing it—of reinventing it. They deconstructed the silhouettes of the great couturiers, reinterpreting them in a contemporary way, drawing inspiration from the worlds of historical costume as well as haute couture, all through the lens of Eastern philosophy and modes of dressing. It stands as a lesson on how revolutions are born from the exchange between cultures, through the dialogue between craft and ancient traditions. For Yohji in particular, the architecture of the garment and the atelier itself are regarded as something sacred.
That was the message they gave to us with this exhibition, because the main topic was The Letter to the Future, but it was really a legacy. All the curation was about collections that changed the silhouette, inspired by the past and the future, playing with and deconstructing Western fashion history.