Incandescence \In`can*des”cence\, n. A white heat, or the glowing or luminous whiteness of a body caused by intense heat.
As promised, the Coilhouse crew recently headed downtown to document Lucent Dossier’s ongoing residency at the Edison. The sprawling Edwardian power plant-turned-nightclub was filled to the gills with a strange soup of carnies, stilt-walkers and Entourage types, and Lucent was in top form, performing continuously in various rooms to the delight and wonderment of all.
The Absinthe Fairy! Photo by Zoetica.
Zoetica managed to get some lovely shots of the action, as did Caroline over at the LAist. Incandescence occurs every other Wednesday night (including tomorrow night) for the foreseeable future. More photos and club info after the jump.
There’s a new movie coming out with Eiko Ishioka’s costume design in it! The film is directed by Tarsem, who previously collaborated with Ishioka on The Cell. Events take place in a 1915 hospital, where a bedridden patient befriends a little girl with a broken arm and offers to tell her an adventure story about five men - an Indian adventurer, an African ex-slave, a masked bandit, an Italian bombmaker, and Charles Darwin (what? yes!). The girl is enthralled by the exotic tale, and waits eagerly for every new chapter. But the storyteller, a broken man emotionally and physically, has a dark motive for telling the tale: he wants her to steal something at the hospital in exchange for the story’s conclusion. Here is the trailer:
I did a quick Google search on when the film is coming out: nothing. I did a search for it on IMDB, and learned that it was completed in 2006. Hmm. That’s when I started digging into the YouTube comments. One guy writes that he saw it at a private screening in LA a week ago, and that they asked the audience to critique for the purpose of determining whether it will go on the big screen or on DVD. Another person writes that they have not yet found a distributor. And then there is this comment by Khan Higou:
I spent a year working on post-production of this movie (in Paris); I know every single image of this feature and believe me, it IS beautiful for sure. And you Americans are not lucky about this independent movie (self-produced, directed, even self-distributed, no big studio logo in front of this trailer, did you notice…) ’cause I heard it has been rated R in the US; a way to punish Tarsem everybody thinks here ’cause the movie is not that violent
Further research turned up one review that indicates that the film has not been sold for distribution due to scathing reviews at the Toronto Film Fetival. The reviewer writes that Zoe Bell (Death Proof) was the president of the jury that year. “(She was) seated two seats away from me quite enjoyed at least from what I could get from her reactions to the film while it was being shown.” Maybe she didn’t like it so much after all.
Maybe the ending is a little predictable, but the visuals look stunning! I want to see this - and I want to love it. Thanks to Paul Komoda for the tip.
Update: Obviously I’m not very good with The Google! Looks like it’s finally coming out May 9th. Thanks, Rachel!
Passions ignite at The Crucible foundry in Oakland, CA.
Down by the West Oakland Bart station, often late into the night, one may observe mysterious flickering lights accompanied by loud explosions. If it ain’t gunshots, you can be sure some welder, sculptor or pyrotechnics whiz at the Crucible foundry is burning the midnight oil.
Founded by Michael Sturtz in 1999, this nonprofit educational hub of fine and industrial arts has attracted a highly motivated group of artists, artisans and students from all over the country. “From cast iron to neon, and from large-scale public art to the most precise kinetic sculpture, The Crucible is fast becoming the best-equipped public industry & arts education facility on the West Coast.”
Ballet star Tina Bohnstedt cruises in a vintage Pontiac (Firebird, natch).
Photo by Gary Wilson
Last year, audiences were astounded by the collective’s incendiary production of Romeo and Juliet. Their second annual “benefit fire ballet”, a decidedly ballsy interpretation Stravinsky’s Firebird, opens tonight:
[A] unique fusion of classical ballet, aerialists, acrobats, fire performers, break dancers…paired with fire and industrial arts. It’s definitely ballet with an industrial edge provided by Crucible artisans, a cameo appearance by a Pontiac Firebird, and a ballerina’s graceful pas-de-deux with a motorcycle stunt rider.
The production’s running every night through the 12th, with additional shows on the 16th, 17th and 19th. Proceeds from ticket sales will go directly towards supporting the Crucible school. All shows are expected to sell out, so if you’re thinking of going (and I know folks as far away as San Diego and Portland are making the trip) get your tickets in advance.
Nils Frykdahl, Dawn McCarthy, Kirana Peyton and Meredith Yayanos.
Our dear Mer is a bit of a nomad, which causes her to sometimes disappear and come back with new stories to tell. Last time she got swept away to tour Europe, she brought back bone-chilling photos of the Tyrolean Towel Rack of Imminent Doom. This time, we may see some weird relics of Americana, for Mer is headed North to bring the music of Faun Fables to Oregon, Washington and Utah. If you’re in Albany, Seattle, Portland, Olympia, Spokane (hometown concert!) or Salt Lake City, mark the dates on your calendar and come see a spectacle of songtelling unfold.
In a brief conversation before taking off, Mer told me that Faun Fables has just finished up a new record as well as an EP, and that a video is in the works.
For the most part, CG art’s not really my thing. I love the surface of paper, the texture of layered paint. There are many techniques to fake this on the computer, but in the end, most CG art still feels a bit sterile and dead-eyed to me. But there are some masters whose digital paintings truly live and breathe; one such artist is Linda Bergkvist, known online as Enayla.
From cyberpunk landscapes to enchanted woods, there’s a story being told by every sensuous detail in Bergkvist’s paintings. Some characters look so compelling that I wish there was more than just one painting; that there was a book, movie or comic where I could get to know them better. I wonder how much of a backstory Berkgvist creates as she paints.
Equally as fascinating as the images are the generous tutorials on Bergkvist’s site. She shares her secrets on how to paint eyes, how to mix skintones, how to create hair texture, and how to make brushes, and more. Even for someone who doesn’t paint, it’s interesting to see her paintings in unfinished form as she explains their completion step by step.
Bergkvist has recently revisited the “analog world” to create some stunning masks in papier mache, which she models on this page. More of my favorite images after the jump!
One of my problems with runway shows is that they’re often too sterile; there’s not enough of a story being told. You know what to expect; some dance music, some walking, some turning, some clapping. I wish that runway shows were structured more like plays; heroes and villains, gags and surprises. So I commend the fashion world’s recent efforts to incorporate more technology and atmosphere into their runways, like McQueen’s famous Kate Moss ghost two years ago and more recently, Diesel’s flying jellyfish fashion show.
L: McQueen’s famous McQueen “hologram”. R: Target’s ghost bride.
Even though the prolific “holographic technology” fashion spectacles of the past two years actually rely on a technique that’s been around for almost 150 years, the effect is still as fragile and ethereal as ever. The great potential of combining this type of projection with CGI effects is already apparent. I’d love to see some of those techniques used for something more interesting than Target’s goofy effort, however. Can you imagine what Torture Garden would do? I’d also love to see this effect in concert. I’d do anything to see a transparent Liz belt out Song to the Siren in this manner.
Gamers everywhere are mourning the loss of Gary Gygax, godfather of RPGs. After recovering from the initial shock, my thoughts turned immediately to an old friend, author Wayne Chambliss, who knew the man personally. I’d like to thank Wayne from the bottom of my polyhedral heart for taking the time to share some of his memories of Gygax here on Coilhouse. ~Mer
E. Gary Gygax, the co-creator of Dungeons & Dragons, died on Tuesday. He was 69.
I can’t say I was surprised to hear the news. Last July, Gary told me he was already a year over his “expiration date”—the six months doctors gave him upon diagnosing his abdominal aneurysm. So, I wasn’t surprised. But I am hurting.
I don’t know why I miss him so much. I didn’t know him well. I spent maybe sixteen hours with him altogether. Sixteen hours on the porch of his house in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. Two long, summer days. Even so, Gary was an easy guy to like. He looked like a cross between Gandalf and Stan Lee, with a Lucky Strikes voice and a big laugh. He was a marvelous storyteller, an autodidact with wide interests, and, of course, the developer of an incalculably influential game system millions of people have been playing all over the world since 1974—including myself and at least 33% of this blog’s masthead.
The original Dungeon Master.
There are plenty of obituaries online right now that cover the basic facts of his life. The one in the New York Times seems representative: it contains no misspellings, but also very little of the man I knew, however slightly.
My friend Paul La Farge does a much better job. In a 2006 issue of The Believer (“Destroy All Monsters”), he tells the story of our first trip to Lake Geneva in a way that gets Gary Gygax right. For anyone even vaguely interested in Gary’s biography, Dungeons & Dragons or TSR, I strongly recommend Paul’s article. In my opinion, it is the last word on the subject. Moreover, its postscript is a more fitting eulogy for Gary than anything I could write myself—or have read anywhere else about him.
Maybe it’s simple. Maybe losing Gary is simply part of losing something even larger I will not, cannot, get back.
If you see this snowy picture hanging on your new friend’s wall, watch out: you’re hanging out with an art thief! Someone had the gall to swipe this drawing, part Lori Earley’s Fade to Gray Exhibition, right off the wall at her solo show at the Jonathan Levine Gallery in NYC last Wednesday.
If you do happen to see it, feel free to swipe it back and make a daring escape. There’s a reward being offered for its return, but I know that any Coilhouse reader would return it simply out of the goodness of their heart. The painting wants to be reunited with its sister creations on walls of the gallery space:
Even if you don’t find the painting, you should stop by the gallery, which has been completely transformed to provide the right atmosphere for Earley’s work, on display until March 22. The ghostly paintings, in their intricate china-white frames, hang on walls which have been covered by white damask-motif flocked wallpaper designed by Lori herself. You can see the transformed interior, along with all of the images in the exhibition, on the gallery site.
23 years ago, twelve strange children were born in England at exactly the same moment. 6 years ago the world ended. This is the story of what happened next.
Thus kicks off Freakangels - comrade Warren Ellis’ new webcomic. Wonderfully illustrated by Paul Duffield, this much-anticipated creation reared its rusty, dusty post-apocalyptic head today and I couldn’t be more pleased. The teaser art looked promising and I’m happy to see the style, color and detail carried over into the actual comic.
The imperfect heroine, her tiny steam-chopper, and an eerily silent London are introduced in cold muted colors of early morning light. It’s satisfying to see the steampunk aesthetic carried over into a future rather than past, and I’m digging the plot, as well. Not to mention - telepathy! Well done, gentelmen.
Hooo boy. I’ve been sitting on my hands for weeks, not knowing if/when I’d be allowed to say anything, but I just got the go-ahead from Nils. NOW IT CAN BE TOLD.
“Look out, you’re dead like us. Dead like candy.”
photo by Katherine Copenhaver
For really and truly. The four core members of one of the most unclassifiable, unbelievable underground bands of the 90s met up in Oakland late last month to get reacquainted and talk shop. They’re currently in the studio recording the final tracks needed to complete an album left unfinished since 1998, and they have tentative plans to do some live reunion shows as well. A bit of background on the band from the Idiot Flesh wiki entry:
Known to tour the US in a converted city bus with [member] Rathbun as the driver/mechanic, with the windshield destination banner of “HELL.” Besides their “rock against rock” attitude, they were also known to defy classification with marching band routines, performing puppet shows, and playing household items as instruments (in tune).
“Idiot Song” video directed by Annemarie Piette
If you’re already a rabid cult follower, chances are you are doing an exuberant wiggle dance right now. If you’ve never heard of Idiot Flesh, try to place their sound, guerilla theater tactics and spookylicious attire in the context of the 80s and early 90s, before Tim Burton’s aesthetic became quite so zeitgeisty. While they often draw comparisons to Mr Bungle (and there’s merit in that, seeing as both groups formed in 1985, wore obfuscating costumes and displayed frenetic, mathrock/metal/funk shredder chops), Oingo Boingo, Crash Worship and other unhinged California weirdos from that time period, Idiot Flesh and their roving pack of Filthy Rotten Excuse Chickens inhabited a world all their own. Their influences range from the Residents and Zappa, to SWANS, the Art Bears and Henry Cow, to T.S. Eliot and John Kane. The band’s live act –which places emphasis on audience participation and non sequitur antics– is the stuff that Dadaist wet dreams are made of.
