In the beginning, the jumpsuit was workwear for those who sailed through the sky: pilots, parachuters, skydivers and airmen. There was the TuTa, conceived by Italian artist Thayat in an attempt to pave the path for the most basic, anti-bourgeois outfit that was as easy to make as it was to wear. The Varst emerged not long after, brainchild of Alexander Rodchenko and Varvara Stepanov, a de-facto uniform for the proletariat. Consider the jumper: faded dicky blue, drab uniform grey, orderly pink, sparkling daredevil spandex, body sock plush. The cover-all offers, alternately, a joyful abdication of the daily chore of dressing, an oppressive occupational necessity, or the sublime articulation of personal style, codified in a homogeneous unit. The one-piece disguises or announces the body, awards authority or strips it away, physically protects us or rejects us. It enlarges or reduces our humanity.
“Jumper” asks each artist to produce one garment that covers the entire body, to be displayed hanging on the wall.
