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.

• official Crucible website
• Oakland Tribune article about Michael Sturtz & co
• “All Fired Up” Crucible feature in SFGate

Sculptor Gregory Brotherton (aka Brotron) resurrects the scrap metal of old cars as new creatures inspired by mythology, pop culture and science fiction. The sculptures on his website include a minotaur, several sci-fi rayguns that remind me of Weta’s fine creations, and slightly lumbering but nevertheless Sorayama-like statue of Eris, goddess of Discord (who’s worshiped by many CH readers, I’m sure). There’s something sexy and elegant about these; they look like they could be villains in a 1930s pulp novel that takes place in the future. Thank you to Ashbet for the tip on this one!

No. 5 by sculptor/clockmaker Eric Freitas.

In the past 12 months, I’ve seen more clock bits glued in places where they shouldn’t be than I think I’ll ever see for the rest of my life. So when I received an email this morning from a stranger named Eric about “steampunk clocks,” I was skeptical. “Really? Steampunk? Clocks?” is what I said as I clicked on the link, expecting to see nothing new and believing that nothing could beat those mysterious rugged watches from Japan.

And you know what? It’s nice to be completely, delightfully wrong sometimes. Eric Freitas’ clocks completely Shocked and Awed. Every part of the clock is handmade, and they’re not just elaborate static sculptures; they actually tell time. The clocks employ calligraphy as a stylistic method, and no two clocks that are the same. On his Etsy store, Freitas describes the intensive process of creating a clock: “all of the pieces were cut out with a handheld jewelers saw, ground to shape with a flex-shaft tool, and assembled with hand-machined screws. The dial was inked by hand, then was ripped, weathered, and aged.” He’s made five mechanical clocks from scratch so far (and two using a quartz motor), and each one is more complex than the one before.

Left: detail, No. 5. Right: No. 2.

To reiterate: to make these mechanical clocks, he didn’t go out and buy a clock at the store and embellish it. He made every gear by hand and put all the gears into a mechanism that actually worked. Something that looks so Ye Olde but from another timeline, a work of art that’s also a functional machine that was assembled from scratch… I can’t call it anything other than what it is, a term that’s being used by so many and deserved by so few, a term I thought I’d never apply so reverently to something I saw this year. But I’m humbled. So I’ll say it: it’s Steampunk Art.

• Eric’s Mechanical Clocks on Flickr
  
• Eric’s Quartz Clocks on Flickr
  
• Biography on Etsy
• Etsy Store

Andreas Hofer is s German-born artist that specializes in nightmares. Unlike much of the spooky-cute stuff on the art scene today, Hofer’s bizarre work actually makes me uncomfortable the way I wish more art could.

While Hofer works with all types of media, of particular interest to me are his sculptures. Almost toy-like, their scale exaggerated and subject matter not without humor, they are remarkably imposing and unsettling. So much so that I’m tempted to actually pinch myself to ensure lucidity.

Part of “Reich”, Acrystal, silicone, 2006

Most perfectly innocent objects can be terrifying when magnified, but Andreas’ strongpoint is twisting recognizable imagery in simple, potent ways that make the viewer cringe. He distorts things as nightmares would. This doesn’t seem to curb my desire to have his various beasts guarding my future compound - their design is just that appealing!

Many thanks to Jerem for the tip. Click below for more from Andreas Hofer.

Occasionally, while exploring the wild untrammeled frontiers of the world wide interwub, you’ll stumble across something so revelatory, so mind-bogglingly exquisite, it knocks you back several feet, clutching your head and speaking in tongues. Today I had just such an experience. Like Nietzsche who gazed too long into the abyss or Icarus who flew too close to the sun, I shall never be the same. I have seen the cruel, implacable face of G*d:

Three examples of finely crafted deer butt alien head taxidermy, a.k.a. “assquatch art.”

Via Redneck Craft Tips by Don Burleson (the web page that cracked my poor brain open like a peanut):

For centuries, families have enjoyed the camaraderie and joy of making alien heads from deer butts. Join the fun! Once you know the secrets, it’s easy to transform an ordinary deer butt into a work of redneck fine art. Let’s take a closer look at this ancient and noble craft…

All you need to create your own deer art is a styrofoam mannequin head, a fresh deer butt, a sharp knife and some glue and you are ready to get started making your own deer masterpiece.

This is indeed a disturbing universe.

Many people say that the real red neck art is the shaping of the deer anus to look like a mouth. This is the true test of the artists loving hand.

The anus can be made very simple, or you can stretch the anus for realistic effects such as smiles and frowns. In general, the leading deer butt artists concentrate on the details of the mouth.

Thank you, Mr Burleson, for exposing an ignorant city mouse like me to this rustic art form. Not since 1996 –when I fished a homemade hunting video called Mostly Squirrels out of the bargain bin at Poughkeepsie Video Barn– have I known such divine ecstasy.

“The only real depression is a depression of individual ingenuity.” -George Daynor

The exploits of George Daynor read like the synopsis of a Coen Brothers flick. As the story goes, Daynor was a former gold prospector who’d lost his fortune in the Wall Street crash of 1929. Hitchhiking through Alaska, he was visited by an angel who told him to make his way to New Jersey without further delay. Divine providence had dictated that Gaynor was to wait out the Great Depression there, building a castle with his bare hands.

Daynor had only four dollars in his pocket when he arrived in Vineland, NJ. He used the money to buy three swampy acres of land that had once been a car junkyard. For years he slept in an abandoned car on the mosquito-infested property, living off a steady diet of frogs, fish and squirrels while he built his elaborate eighteen-spired, pastel-hued Palace of Depression out of auto parts and mud. His primary objective? To encourage his downtrodden countrymen to hold onto their hope and stay resourceful, no matter what. Daynor opened his homemade castle to the public on Christmas Day, 1932, free of charge (he started charging an entrance fee after someone made fun of his beard), and proved an enthusiastic, albeit eccentric tour guide.

“The Palace Depression stands as a proof that education by thought can lift all the depressed peoples out of any depression, calamity or catastrophe; if mankind would use it. The proof stands before you my friends. Seeing is believing.”

Daynor held back his wild red hair with bobby pins, wore lipstick and rouge, and enjoyed dressing alternately as a prospector or a Victorian dandy. Legend has it he kept his common-law wife, Florence Daynor, locked up in one of the Palace’s subterranean chambers during visiting hours. He offered his “living brain” to the Smithsonian for experiments (they declined). His Palace of Depression, a.k.a The Strangest House In the World, quickly became a popular tourist destination for folks on their way to Atlantic City.

Now this is über.

The taxidermist/sculptor behind this piece, Lisa Black, has also created a wind-up baby crocodile with working gears. I want one as a pet! [By way of Warren Ellis and Porphyre]

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.