Long before Madonna and Cher made it fashionable to have just one name, there was Ichimaru.

And if those latter-day divas thought their stage getups were out of this world, they ought to have seen hers.

The Japanese geisha-turned-pop star had a wardrobe of kimonos of such exquisite beauty and craftsmanship that they are considered fine art. And there isn't a cone-bra corset or fishnet bodysuit in the lot.

More than two dozen of Ichimaru's elegant gowns are on display at the Art Gallery of Hamilton, arranged outspread on the walls like a collection of particularly exotic butterflies.

Ichimaru was something of an exotic butterfly herself -- ethereal, elusive and enigmatic.

The geisha's raison d'etre was to please men. But she would not be subjugated by them.

She was the embodiment of femininity and refinement, a gentle, graceful creature schooled in the arts of music, dance and song. Her manners were impeccable, her discretion legendary.

The geisha was a mysterious combination of companion and courtesan, a well-educated woman who entertained wealthy, powerful and sophisticated gentlemen. Her clients included samurai, captains of industry, aristocrats, even men of the Imperial household.

Yes, privileges were accorded, but not on demand. The extent of her involvement with a patron was of her own choosing.

In fact, when the oldest profession was made illegal in Japan in 1956, the geisha was exempt.

Her allure lay less in promises of favours to come than in her utter devotion to the classical arts, cultured conversation, Japanese traditions and personal appearance.

The attire was a huge element of her appeal -- the powdery white makeup, the highly stylized wig, the hair ornaments, parasols, fans, shoes, obis and, of course, the kimonos. Ichimaru's kimonos, on loan from the Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, were more than just "a thing to wear," the literal translation of the word.

They are masterpieces of the textile arts, created by hand. Each is made from a single bolt of silk, lavishly embroidered with symbolic designs such as cranes, cherry blossoms, peacocks, clouds and chrysanthemums. Such details as the colour, sleeve length, and type of stitches all hold meaning.

As in nature, the colours and patterns were designed to attract discreet attention from the opposite gender.

Entire teams of weavers, dyers and needleworkers would be involved in their creation, says AGH acting chief curator Patrick Cable Shaw, who has deliberately hung the kimonos so that they look like butterflies pinned to the gallery's walls. Visitors can inspect them from a very close range, although resisting the temptation to touch them is almost painful, and a friendly reminder from a hovering guard is sometimes in required.

Ichimaru's wardrobe would have been more extensive -- and expensive -- than her contemporaries' by virtue of her metamorphosis from geisha to a superstar recording artist.

She was a single-minded woman who was determined to distinguish herself from the other geishas and took lessons in the shamisen, a type of stringed instrument, and in developing her nightingale-like singing voice.

Her rise to fame, says Shaw, was the source of jealousy and criticism among her sisterhood, but she continued entertaining in teahouses, on stage and in street performances. When radio broadcasting and recording companies began replacing those traditional venues, she signed a contract with the Victor Recording Company.

She eventually had her own radio program and became a television favourite, performing and teaching almost until her death in 1997 at a ripe old 91.

Although she gave up the geisha life at a young age, Ichimaru performed in traditional dress for her entire career. One look at her magnificent kimonos and it's easy to understand why.

mnolan@thespec.com

905-526-4689

Showtime

What: From Geisha to Diva, The Kimonos of Ichimaru

Where: Art Gallery of Hamilton

When: Until Sept. 1

Admission: $12 for adults, $30 for families of two adults and four children

Contact: artgalleryofhamilton.com or 905-527-6610