To seek beauty in a fractured world is an act of quiet defiance. Especially in turbulent times, refusing to let the beauty of nature, this world, and humanity be drowned out by destructive actions and toxic behavior is a form of resistance. It is easy to be pulled into cycles of anger or despondency, but the conduct of others should not change who we are. To channel beauty through the arts, to create and share it, is a way of saying no to despair and yes to hope.

Few mediums capture this rebellion more vividly than film. The combination of storytelling with lighting, costume, writing, music, set design, and acting that is found in the cinema — the same arts that informed the theatre that so captivated Mariano Fortuny — insists that beauty be seen. It invites us to feel, to be moved, to reflect. Sometimes it offers escape; at other times, it holds a mirror to society to serve as a cultural barometer. Often there is more truth in fiction than in fact, and through the poetic license of artists, we open ourselves to possibilities for how to live, resist, and love. 

The film festivals this month celebrating artistry remind us of this shared imagination. Each work is an act of resilience, the artists creating audiences gathering in times of division, stories introducing us to worlds unknown and shedding light on those we do. Even amid wars and political turmoil, art insists life is still worthy of attention, that beauty matters. 

To watch a film, walk into a gallery, or listen to music is to recognize we are more than the headlines and worthy of deeper examination. We may not control the chaos around us, but we can choose how we see, how we respond, and what we make. Art is not a distraction from reality; it is a declaration that reality can be reframed, that resistance can be luminous, tender, and profoundly human.

Fortuny in film

Across the decades, Fortuny has left its mark on some of cinema and television’s most memorable productions. Our fabrics have helped define the lush visual language of Stanley Kubrick’s masterful Barry Lyndon, the unnerving atmosphere of William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (yes, that bedroom scene), and the period precision of Downton Abbey. Each collaboration has offered designers the chance to bring their creative visions to life with the richness and authenticity Fortuny is known for.

The stories are as fascinating as the films themselves. When Jon Hutman sought to capture the essence of Venice in The Tourist, he incorporated a touch of Fortuny into his interiors for the flavor of genuine Venetian craft. Even The Sound of Music carries a hidden connection: though the curtain fabric Maria transforms into play clothes was originally intended to be Fortuny, production deadlines led to a printed stand-in designed to echo the Glicine and DeMedici green pattern first chosen.

These moments reflect only a fraction of Fortuny’s cinematic journey. Which would you add to the list?