Idea and concept for a creative platform and menswear label 7SILVERMENINCOATS
A thin ray of light. An ultimate phenomena of containing all that we see.
A thin bright wave of electromagnetical field broken just by a simple prism. And here they are, in the full range of spectrum – The Seven Silver Men in Coats. Like the fresh feeling after summer rain, like the power of a growing plant, like an energy of a gigantic waterfall. Seven silver ideas of intuition, inner wisdom and contemplation. Seven travellers with the magic luggage. They are made of light, coming from light, preparing the world for the Shift. From the Whateverness to Importantness. From surface to the heart. They are here, they are there. Next to you. At the bus stops. In the library. They will sit next to you at the cafe. They’ll be whistling across the street. They’re here to evoke you inner magic. To take you to the astral travels. Show you the other side of the moon. It’s here. The era of seven dreams, seven feelings, seven totems, seven ideas. It’s time to be complete. Open up to the light!
(Image Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd)
7SILVERMENINCOATS is a creative platform telling the story of 7SILVERMENINCOATS brotherhood. Flowing in the river of change, 7SILVERMENINCOATS unveils the mystery of seven travellers that have come from the Light to prepare the mankind for The Shift. Each of the men have their profile based on their color, which describes their knowledge, wisdom and magical powers.
“When everything looks so supernaturally delicious, sweet like a sin, how is one supposed to choose?” whispered the woman to the man, leaning at his shoulder. “We’ll have this one there,” the man finally said to the baker and smiled at the woman next to him. Mr. Red slightly bowed and turned to pack the fresh rhubarb cake topped with juicy strawberries. “It smells like love at first sight,” the woman said to Mr. Red’s back. Radio played smooth ballroom jazz. “Why do they have so much ginger everywhere?” she asked. “Oh, I feel quite passionate, you?” said the man, touching her. She revised her hair. Their glances met. Mr. Red smiled to himself. He kindled the pine branch and sweet smoke filled the boulangerie. Mr. Red then turned to the lovers with the carefully packed cake in his hand. She felt shivers running down her spine. He didn’t know that Mr. Red could see with his nape.
"Isn't this a wonderful place?!" said Mr. Orange to his neighbor and laughed out loud. "So much to live for! Rainy afternoons, bronze statues, bad rock'n'roll guitar riffs, chess figures, secret salamanders, old shamans in trance ... Oh my god, there's so much to live and nothing to die for!" He walked impatiently back and forth like a sparkle. A dove flew by with a thyme branch in its beak. Mr. Orange followed the bird with his eyes. He turned to the neighbor: "Do you know that keeping some thyme under your pillow will keep the bad dreams away? You just cannot give up! I won't let you go up there. I won't let you fall!" The eyes of the neighbor grew big like plates. Sometimes it pays to be a mind reader.
"I need to get away," said the woman to the travel agent. "I need a change!" "Well," said Mr. Yellow, touching his glasses with frames made of almond tree. "Let me see, what do we have this season. How do you feel about flying? You'll see much bigger picture from above," said Mr. Yellow. "You mean, just flying?" she asked, looking confused. "Yes, just high up there, like an eagle. First class top-notch service!" "Ummh..." sighed the woman, "I can't afford business class," and continued going through the travel catalogue in her hands. "No problem!" said Mr. Yellow and touched his almond frames again, "I can double your funds." Behind the window autumn leaves were flying by.
The Spring. The Night. The air of herbal taste. The season of solar eclipses. Mr. Green was sitting at a small restaurant on the backstreet. He smoked his rosemary pipe to keep his mind sharp and clear. He padded the head chef on the shoulder and the man forgot about his sharpest knife that he had broken last night. Mr. Green drummed with his long fingers on the table and the hypnotic rhythms spread like good ideas all over the town. They draw pentagrams on the napkins. They stood upon the table and recited poetry by Whitman. They drank the moonlight. The words spread. And one by one the whole Brotherhood was drawn to the restaurant. The light was switched on.
"It's ten thirty," said Mr. Cyan to the customer. "It'll be ready in couple of minutes, just wait here." He continued to work on the watch. The little golden cogs reflected the sunlight. "Do you love water?" Mr. Cyan asked the customer and took a sip from the cup. The vase on the table was filled with forget-me-nots. "I had a marvellous sea-bass last night," said Mr. Cyan, "so fresh, so exquisite. It just melted in my mouth!" He poured some water slowly to the cup and stared at it, forgetting about the watch for a minute. "In my dream that was," he elaborated and continued to work on the watch. "It's ten thirty," said Mr. Cyan to the customer. He could stop the time.
"This is the end!" said the Preacher Man. "The SevenSeals have been opened!" moaned the Preacher to his companion. They sat at the terrace of an age-worn café and watched people passing by. The sun was low. Mr. Blue, sitting next to them, raised a glass of blue water with his left hand and drank. It was for the good dreams. He fondled a cat in his lap. "Why do you smile? Aren't you afraid of burning in hell, my friend?" the Preacher Man said to his companion who smiled with his eyes full of dreams, staring at a dove picking crumbles on the street. You see, whenever Mr. Blue is near, people stop hearing the speech. They just hear a birdsong.
He wondered down the streets. Head in the clouds like always. Daydreaming. He didn't notice how people were looking at him. They had never seen such a tall man. A blind man sat on the street and begged for dreams. "I can't see dreams," he said. "I can't escape even for an hour!" he said. "When I sleep it's just darkness!" he said. "I'm doomed to live in the dark world with no dreams!" he said. Mr. Purple took the tarragon gum out of his pocket and handed to the blind man. "Have this gum," he said. "For it will make you see again. See the dreams, good and bad!" Mr. Purple said and walked away, taller than anybody else. Head in the clouds.
See 7SILVERMENINCOATS exhibition FOREST here.
Stories co-written with Lauri Tikerpe. Illustrations by Robi Jõeleht. Photos by Maiken Staak and Renee Altrov.