Sonia Delaunay: craft, costume & collaboration

sonia delaunay

This post is part of the Russia in Classic Film blogathon, hosted by the wonderful Fritzi of Movies Silently. Read all the entries here.

Sonia Delaunay lived in – and created – a world of colour. Along with her husband, painter Robert Delaunay, she explored how pure, abstract hues and tones (‘colour rhythms’) could stimulate the senses. Whilst Robert’s work mainly focused on painting, Sonia’s scope was considerably broader and, early in her career, she translated her bold, instantly-recognisable visuals onto clothes, bags, furniture, textiles… even cars. However, it’s redundant to consider Sonia and Robert purely on the work they created, because the duo were in fact at the forefront of Parisian creativity in the early decades of the 20th century, shaping and defining a new visual language called ‘simultaneity’  – the idea that contrasting colours create movement and can have a life and meaning of their own.

sonia delaunay electric prisms

Electric Prisms by Sonia Delaunay (1913)

The movement might have been born in tandem, but for a long time – as is so often the case with female artists – it was Robert the history books remembered. His paintings cast big shadows over her ‘decorative’ textile work, despite the fact they explored the same theories and ideas. But this omission isn’t solely the fault of historians. Sonia painted before she met Robert (at a party in 1907) and continued to paint for many years after his early death from cancer in 1941. There are suggestions that he was jealous of her fame and recognition, that she publicly downplayed her artistic endeavours and shifted the focus to her role as a mother. But even there she found an outlet for her creativity, cutting up her young son’s blankets and stitching them back to together in ‘improved’ ways.

Sonia Delaunay


Sonia Terk was born in the small village of Gradizhsk (then Russian, now Ukranian) in 1885. Her family were poor Jewish labourers, and Sonia was swiftly adopted by a wealthy uncle and transported to St Petersburg. There, she lived in a lavish home filled with books, paintings and art and spent time visiting the city’s many museums and galleries. Apparently Max Lieberman, the famous German Impressionist painter and a close family friend, gifted Sonia her first set of paints. Those early experiences surely set her on the creative path: first she studied art in Germany and then in Paris, where she would meet (and marry) Robert. After the birth of their son she turned her attention to crafts, decorating their apartments with furnishings inspired by her artistic training but also the ‘pure’ colour she remembered from her childhood in Ukraine, and the bright costumes worn at peasant weddings. Fashion design soon followed, garment versions of the new language the couple were starting to create. These clothing designs directly influenced her own painting – in fact, Bal Bullier, one of her most famous, plays on a dress she designed and wore.


sonia delaunay bal bullier
Bal Bullier by Sonia Delaunay (1912–13)

History, in the shape of World War I, intervened and the Delaunay’s were forced to move to Madrid after the Russian Revolution stemmed the funding flow from Sonia’s uncle. It was a surprisingly serendipitous move however, as it was in Madrid that Sonia opened an interiors boutique and first met Sergei Diaghilev, the founder of the acclaimed dance company the Ballets Russes. Diaghilev persuaded the couple to assist with his 1918 production of Cléopâtre. Robert would design the sets, Sonia the costumes. Although little evidence remains of the artistic collaboration, that which does evidences how Sonia was able to translate her art into costume. The colourful geometric quilting, emphasised with beading, mirrored inlays and pearl embellishments, could have come from the same preliminary sketches of Bal Bullier.

Sonia_Delaunay_Ballet Russes

Sonia_Delaunay_Ballet Russes

Whilst the Ballets Russes collaboration allowed Sonia to expand her artistic skillset, it also opened the doors to other creative partnerships, as avant-garde directors and filmmakers tapped her (and often Robert) to lend their modern visual language to their artistic endeavours. After the Delaunay’s moved back to Paris, they were approached by Marcel L’Herbier and René Le Somptier, who were keen for the couple to ‘dress’ two (separate) films. An odd move, considering that the Delaunay’s aesthetic celebrated colour and both films were due to be filmed in black and white, but a powerful reminder of how influential the couple were seen to be, and how their visual language was associated with the modern ideas of chic and (pre)‘deco’ that both directors were keen to convey.

L'herbier vertige

L'herbier vertige Stills from Le Vertige (Dir: Marcel L’Herbier, 1926)

Set in Russia, Marcel L’Herbier’s film Le Vertige (released in 1926) opens with the overthrow of the Czar during the Russian Revolution. L’Herbier’s muse Jaque Catelainis was cast in a dual role as a murdered officer and a ‘living image’ who haunts the French Riviera. The dual role called for contrasting costume designs – Sonia provided sportswear and luxurious loungewear whilst Parisian tailor Yose provided sharp double-breasted jackets. Robert contributed to the sets, and some of the paintings – in fact, the glamour of Paris is represented through Robert’s famous Eiffel Tower paintings.

Le Petit Parigot 1926 - Delaunay

René Le Somptier delaunay

René Le Somptier delaunay

Stills from Le P’tit Parigot (Dir:René Le Somptier, 1926)

Similarly, René Le Somptier’s film Le P’tit Parigot (‘The Small Parisian One’, also released in 1926) utilises the Delaunay look to convey a certain flapper spirit. Shot in six parts, Sonia was responsible for the costumes, and again, Robert contributed to the sets, including several canvases that were exhibited at the 1925 Paris exhibition. Full disclaimer: I haven’t actually seen this film as it’s virtually impossible to source, but (limited) online synopsis suggests that it tells the story of ‘P’tit Parigot’, son of a professor and captain of a football team, who quarrels with his father and runs away to become a mechanic (further plot explanations very welcome!). Plenty of stills exist from the production, which is similar in look and feel to L’Herbier’s and even seems to include another of Sonia’s geometric dressing gowns. One in particular is visually arresting: Romanian dancer Lizicai Codreanu performs wearing a zig-zag patterned costumes with a large disk shaped collar (the disk was a recurring motif in both Sonia and Robert’s work).


sonia delaunay bathing suits

What’s interesting about Sonia’s involvement with these avant-garde films is that, at the same time, she was also collaborating with the Amsterdam department store of Metz & Co and developing a line of furs and accessories with couturier Jacques Heim. These profitable collaborations (and the interiors store in Madrid and a later partnership with the Liberty store in London) that provided a source of income for the family, facilitated the ‘avant-garde’ partnerships and allowed Robert to keep on painting. This mix of low and high sensibilities now looks very modern, but it was probably another barrier that prevented Sonia from being viewed as a serious artist – quite simply, her multi-genre/commercial work enforced a designer-and-maker label that disregarded her early, more purely ‘artistic’ works. Ironically, it was these commercial partnerships that sold Simultaneity to the masses and extended its reach far beyond the confines of Paris through spreads in fashion and lifestyle magazines.

metz&co delaunay

Although Delaunay was recognised in her later years – and was in fact the first living female artist to be honoured with a solo exhibition at the Louvre (in1964) – it’s telling that the ten-year period she spent designing clothes and textiles and fostering creative collaborations remain somewhat overlooked. The bold geometric designs she favoured resonated with women of the era (including Gloria Swanson and Nancy Cunard) and allowed them to express new, bolder aspects of femininity – but this commercial success came at a price. Choosing applied art over fine art and utilising her ideas for ‘everyday’ designs pushed her work into the domestic sphere but simultaneously broke down the barriers between art and craft. In many ways, she is one of the defining artists of the 20th century.

Further reading: Sonia Delaunay by David Seidner / Colour Moves: Art and Fashion by Sonia Delaunay by Matilda McQuaid / The EY Exhibition: Sonia Delaunay at the Tate Modern (opens 15 April 2015)


32 thoughts on “Sonia Delaunay: craft, costume & collaboration

  1. Fantastic post! How interesting and talented was Sonia. I knew nothing about her. Her style reminds me a little of ‘Concentric Circles’ by Wassily Kandinsky also from the same era. I wonder if they influenced each other?

    1. Thanks Cindy! Yes, they certainly moved in the same circles (and Kandinsky was also Russian!) and I agree that there’s a visual similarity and certainly both did a lot to advance ideas of abstraction. Kandinsky is so interesting, especially the synaesthesia, I can’t imagine being able to ‘hear’ colours!

      1. I ♥ 20s art deco and I can see how she would be an influence! Kandinsky’s work–I love it. How cool to have rubbed elbows in that circle?

      2. Had to chime in and say I thought of Kandinsky’s work too while looking at the images posted here. I love the use of multi-colors and the sophisticated art deco style. Okay, off to change my tablet’s background to “Electric Prisms!”

  2. Thank you. I had never heard of her. I love the dress with the eyes and mouth. It’s like monster and erotic put together. I’d wear it. It’s always great to read about talented women especially from long ago because I think there is a common misconception that women have just recently been “working women.” Women have been working and making a living for a very long time, some in creative fields and some in less glamorous fields.

    1. All the costumes from the Ballets Russes were incredibly creative, I love your description of it. With Sonia, I think her husband overshadowed so much of her earlier career, but it’s fitting that she was eventually recognised in her own lifetime, even if it took a few years 😉

  3. What a fascinating essay . . . about a person I’d never heard of but who seems to have been fascinating herself. There’s a real power in those artworks. Many thanks!

  4. Love her use of colours – they’re quite inspiring. Also love the matching car and outfit! (That is something I joke about many times; now there’s photographic evidence to prove it can be done.)

    Thanks for providing this look at Sonia Delaunay. I will be doing more research on her.

  5. Fascinating piece – those costumes and designs are truly amazing. Is it possible to see Le Vertige, or has it vanished, like the other film?

    1. I saw it a festival dedicated to L’Herbier, so it definitely still exists… but I’m not sure how easy it is to get a copy of it. It’s worth a watch, if only for the Delaunay contributions.

  6. I was saving this up to read, and it was worth the wait! I quite liked Delaunay as a teenage art nerd, but at the time I didn’t know of her work in films, so it was brilliant to read your great article and learn more about her career. I always thought that Sonia was more acclaimed than Robert Delaunay, but if that’s so, it makes sense that it’s a more recent rehabilitation. It would be great if Le P’tit Parigot becomes available someday. Thanks so much for writing!

    1. Thank YOU for your enthusiasm. I wondered if this was really a suitable post for the blogathon but I’m happy to see so many people enjoying Sonia Delaunay’s work. I think she was very overlooked in the formative years of abstract art because she worked with textiles but after Robert’s death she came much more into her own – that show at the Louvre was quite an achievement! Apologies if that was a bit unclear, I think I wrote part of this very late at night. Not really an excuse, but still…. 😉

      1. It was a great choice for the blogathon! No, no, you were clear, I understood what you meant. Gender roles, cultural valuation of “women’s work”, etc.

  7. Oh my God, what an explendid post! You taught me sooooo much! The stills from Le p’tit parigot left me speechless. THe costume design and sets are wonderful. If there were Oscars back then, Sonhia Delaunay should have gotten one. Seriously, it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in silent films.
    Don’t forget to read my contribution to the blogathon! 🙂

    1. Thanks Le! It’s such a shame that P’tit isn’t more widely available as I’d love to see it – and I certainly agree that Delaunay should’ve been nominated for an Oscar, although perhaps it was a bit too avant garde?!

  8. I didn’t know Sonia Delaunay. Thank you for telling us about her art and her life. I would like to have my car decorated like the one in the photograph. Thank you for sharing with us.

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