Prosthetics are hot! That’s how I’ll console myself if I ever lose my hand in a terrible accident. I picture a long-fingered, razor-nailed chrome hand for everyday wear; a sleek jeweled hand with fingertips that project light (or film!) for the evenings; and for special occasions, I want a sock puppet that’s also a flamethrower. In my toolkit, I would also like to have something Ye Olde. Ideally I’d love to get my remaining hand on the following, eloquently written up for us by guest blogger David Forbes (aka Coilhouse commenter ampersandpilcrow). - Nadya

Götz Von Berlichingen had a problem. It was 1504 and, at the tender young age of 24, the plundering knight, mercenary and all around bastard had the upper part of his right arm torn off in a cannon blast. As someone who made his living off war and already had a sizable enemies’ list, Götz needed his killin’ hand.

So he got another one. Made of iron.

However, this was no crudely shaped hunk of metal — it was a mechanical masterpiece, centuries ahead of its time. The iron hand not only allowed Götz to return to battle, but later helped lay the foundation for modern prosthetics. Complete with articulated fingers, spring action and an array of levers and buttons, the hand allowed a degree of control that’s stunning even today. Fitted with it, Götz could do the following:

Enzo & Donato (detail), 6″ x 6x 6″ each (12″ x 18″ x 10″-Mounted), 2004
Brass, bone, fur, cast/painted plastic, glass eyes

You may have already heard tell of Jessica Joslin’s enchanted bestiary via the esteemed Wurzeltod, Brass Goggles or Boing Boing. If not, it’s a joy and an honor to introduce you to her work. In Jessica’s loving hands, delicate one-of-a-kind creatures are born of brass and bone, buttons and leather, glass eyes, mother of pearl, filigree, taxidermy, antique mechanical flotsam, scientific process, nostalgia and GENIUS!

From the Lisa Sette Gallery Newsletter:

Jessica Joslins’s odd menagerie begins with her penchant for collecting: “I find things anywhere that I find myself…in obscure junk shops, flea markets, attics, taxidermy supply houses, specialty hardware distributors… or walking through the woods.” Joslin seeks out and puts to use those bright odds and ends that might catch one’s eye in a box full of orphaned fixtures, or glinting up from the sidewalk. While each piece she employs in her eerie animal reliquary is delicately beautiful, it is also the detritus of human engineering and design: old brass buttons and gold braid, glass beads, clockwork cogs and velvet ribbon. Such items are reminiscent of the whimsical technology of a century past, one’s grandparents’ house, the dark interiors of old fashioned movie theatres - and as such they have an intriguing, wistful quality. In other words, Joslin collects the things that all of us secretly want to, the shiny pieces that we might comb through, handle and admire, but ultimately force ourselves to put down; what would we do with such things?

Flora, 4″ x 2″ x 3″, 2006
Brass, bone, sterling, painted wood, grommets, cast pewter, glass eyes

Jessica, who lives in Chicago with her commensurately brilliant husband, painter Jared Joslin, recently took time out of her busy schedule to answer several questions for the upcoming Coilhouse print magazine. You can read excerpts from this interview and meet a few more of her creatures under the cut. Also, anyone who happens to be in LA through the 23rd can take a closer look some of her work at the Los Angeles Art Show in Santa Monica.

Good morning, world.

Oh, what a beautiful morning it is.

I think I’ll start the day off right by simultaneously drying my face and contemplating mortality with a little help from the Tyrolean Towel Rack of IMMINENT DOOM. DOOOOM.

This fetching piece of Germanic history can be found in the Tiroler Volkskunstmuseum in Innsbruck, Austria. The sprawling complex is chock full of similarly bizarre pieces of functional art, like intricately painted antique cabinets, traditional ceremonial costumes, jaunty beast-headed sleighs, embellished tools, and lavishly personalized weaponry. Several historic walk-through “rooms” dating back to the Gothic and Rococo eras have been reassembled, replete with original hand-carved wood paneled walls, stoves, kitchenware and benches on which one can sit for a moment to rest.

My traveling companions and I spent several blissful hours ooohing and aaahing over everything. At one point, Dawn, an accomplished yodeler, was actually moved to song, her joyous yips reverberating up and down the long stone hallways.

Click below to see more wonders from the Alps.

*media, originally uploaded by Coilhouse.

By far the most charming place I visited during my recent Japan-o-dventure was the Jusaburo puppet museum.

Nestled between bigger buildings in Ningyocho [literally translated to City of Dolls], a less busy district in Tokyo, this place is something of a landmark - signs and maps point to its location starting at the train station. Jusaburo Tsujimura’s early life story reads like a novel - he was born to a geisha mother from an unknown father and spent his childhood in a geisha house surrounded by the colorful rustling silk which inspires him to this day. Today, after a lifetime of achievement he is one of many puppeteers living in Ningyocho, his atelier-museum and impressive gamut of work attracting recognition since its opening in 1996.

Entering the place I was instantly entranced. We seemed to be the only visitors at first. A helpful employee led us past cabinets filled with tiny figurines, past a small work area with dolls and puppets in varying levels of completion to the back room where an assortment of cabaret music played and an elaborate set took up the entirety of the back wall. An homage to Moulin Rouge, a miniature multi-tiered stage illuminated by a twinkling color light show and adorned by several rows of chorus girls, with their gorgeous blue-feathered Prima Donna at the forefront. By the time i took it all in my jaw had begun its decent.

Soap Bubble Box, originally uploaded by Coilhouse.

The magical curio cabinets and collages of Joseph Cornell make me pine for a Manhattan I never knew, for all things mildewed, dusty and indigo-hued, for faded starlets and forgotten prima ballerinas, and for constellations I have never seen.

Born towards the end of the Victorian era in upstate NY, reclusive Cornell never ventured any further than New England, but his body of work reveals an inner world of incalcuable depth. Inspired in equal parts by the penny arcades of his youth and the grandiose vision of the Dada/Surrealists, Cornell spent a lonely lifetime trawling L.E.S. flea markets and secondhand bookstores for nostalgic scraps of yesteryear. Whatever the medium (diorama, film collage, decoupage), each piece reflects the inexorable drive of a compulsive scavenger/architect to coax meaning and narrative –however mysterious– from discarded scraps of the past.

Meguro Parasitological Museum, originally uploaded by Coilhouse.

― Try to think about parasites without a feeling of fear, and take the time to learn about their wonderful world of the Parasites.― so states the official website of the world’s only parasite museum in Meguro - a relatively quiet neighborhood in Tokyo, Japan. Most of the Coil-staff was on a Tokyo adventure in September and paid individual visits to this wonderful place between fits of devouring strange candy and exhausting their funds in fancy boutiques.

Boasting 45,000 parasite specimens immersed in formaline, the museum is a privately-founded and now government-aided establishment. With its parasite-positive atmosphere the museum lives up to its slogan and is a popular date spot. It’s easy to see why! Milky white samples float peacefully on night sky-blue backdrops in neat, glass jar rows. Friendly interactive displays show diagrams of various relationships between animals and parasites which inhabit them. A long ribbon hangs near a case displaying an impressive tapeworm, nearby sign encouraging the visitor to play with the ribbon to understand the tapeworm’s length. Don’t fear - this is an educational adventure, friends!

The museum isn’t particularly large, and won’t take more than an hour to conquer. Admission is free and photography is allowed. I highly recommend you pay our little friends a visit, even if you’re only in Tokyo for a few days. You’ll be glad you tore yourself away from the hostess bars, gluttony and experimental toilets in favor of learning!