I’m a huge fan of the Babyart Livejournal Community, where people post pictures of tentacled, glass-eyed, pigtailed nymphettes that resemble broken dolls and frequently have their arm in a sling. The term “babyart” was originally just the title of Trevor Brown’s art website (don’t click it, mom!), but has since broadened to refer to the type of themes found in the art of Mark Ryden, Ray Caesar, David Stoupakis, Lori Earley and a number of other people who probably hate the idea that I’m mentioning them all in the same sentence together.

Once in a while, some misguided soul wanders onto the Babyart LJ thinking it’s a community about “Art, But With Babies In It” and posts something like this. Some people may like these pictures, but personally, it’s not why I joined the community. No, for me, this is what it’s all about! And this, and this, and this. One day a few months ago I got so fed up with the off-topic posts that I created this handy Venn Diagram to help establish some guidelines, a kind of subjective pocket guide:

My Babyart Venn Diagram was a hit. Still, I’ve still yet to figure out why “Babyart” has become such a huge phenomenon in the past few years, why this generation has embraced its themes like never before. Was there some show we all watched as kids that warped us into lovers of disturbing-cuteness? Is it some sort of cultural awareness of a loss of innocence? Any theories?

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.

monorogue, originally uploaded by Coilhouse.

In vein with the hologram photos earlier, another odd, though more common medium. Usually I am, admittedly, prejudiced against 3D modeling, but something about Japanese artist Almacan’s work appeals to me. Maybe it’s that the medium suits the subject matter. His part Escher part Giger constructions are, undeniably, very 90s, but tonight I don’t particularly mind. Too busy being delighted by all the propellers and wishing I were watching Videodrome, or Tetsuo, for that matter.

More Almacan images here.

Steve Pyke is an English photographer who covered the early cyberpunk scene. Pyke writes, “Cyberpunks, a small subculture, influenced by the work of the author William Gibson and particularly the film Bladerunner, existed in London in the early 1990s. I became interested and photographed a series of about fifty portraits in my studio over a short period.” Here’s a link to his image gallery, which features 16 portraits. I love his clean, streamlined, almost anthropological portraits of this small sub-genre. There’s something really charming about this original incarnation of the cyber aesthetic.

One thing I found really interesting about this series that almost half the people in the pictures have some sort of lenses concealing their eyes. This makes sense, because mirrorshades were one of the strongest symbols of cyberpunk writing from the late 80s and early 90s, starting with Molly in Neuromancer. This is why everyone in The Matrix also wears mirrored shades as an homage.

Here are the rest of Steve Pyke’s Cyberpunk Portraits.

robotgirl, originally uploaded by Coilhouse.

First saw this image in DrTenge’s livejournal and had to have MORE. It’s so classically cyberpunk from the actual image to the medium.

What i found through some quick googlemancery is a fairly large private collection of holographic photographs belonging to one Guillermito, apparently an admirer of technology in art and vice-versa. In a touching testimony he says “I think they are a perfect balance between esthetics and technology, between science and art…Buying fine art holograms is throwing money out of the window, financially speaking. You really have to love them. Because, basically, nobody cares.“.

We care, G. We care.

You can browse his online gallery here.

russian_7-stg_woman-miner-s, originally uploaded by Coilhouse.

A delightful page dedicated to Unidentified European Instruments found during a search for old gypsy photos. Click on, dear readers, for wonderful vintage pictures of musicians wielding strange guitars.

Also stumbled upon during the quest:

• a recount of someone’s return to Bucharest and a few curious photos they took on this journey
• Gaultier’s Russia-inspired winter 2005-2006 collection [improbable beaded hats – yes!]
  
• typical nu-gypsy dance extravaganza photos. I’ve actually been to a performance like this as a kid in Moscow.

Not a single actual vintage Russian gypsy photo was to be found, however. I’ll resume this later, in the meantime there is a launch celebration to attempt.

Thee High Priestess ov Thee Temple ov Psychick Blah (T.H.P.O.T.T.O.P.B.)*

And now it’s time for a joyous yodel (erm, sorry) shout out to a dear sister in Lucerne, Mlle Susanne G., a young lady who has officially been keeping it weird on the web since 2003. Unofficially? Much longer than that. In fact, we first found one another on deadjournal (of all the godforsaken places!) maaaany, many moons ago. Like, a moon in the nineties. *gasp*

Her blog compendium, Wurzeltod, is one of my absolute favorite nooks on the net, “a drawer full of all things weird, grotesque, bitter-sweet, embalmed and fortean. Brought to you by Suzanne – the eternal art history student.” You’ll laugh, you’ll cry… occasionally you’ll gag. It’s bliss.

So go for the gas masks, stay for the marzipan, and tell her Coilhouse sent ye.

*photo © of Suzanne G.

Necromance East, originally uploaded by Coilhouse.

Mister Christopher Bischoff has just reminded me that I’d been meaning to do a little feature on Necromance.

A long-time Angel City resident, i have the fortune and pleasure of living very close to this delightful shop [Now two shops, to be exact, as Necromance has expanded] and have been frequenting it since i was a wee lunchbox-toting spookling.

Owned by an exceptional and fashionable lady named Nancy, Necromance first opened its doors in New Orleans long ago and LA is very lucky to have it here today. The window displays are always brimming with eye candy – antique writing cabinets adorned with bones and dried flowers, candles beside aged porcelain dolls and taxidermied deer. You’ll be lured in by the faint trickle of 1920’s music, vintage glass, charts of mysterious anatomical regions and dim glare of strange medical devices alongside exotic beetles. Inside the shops’ incensed walls you’ll find a menagerie of…amazing stuff. It’s impossible to list all they offer here, but their online store will give you something of an overview.

It isn’t all collectibles and home decor, either. Victorian mourning jewelry, postcards, books and, yes, black toilet paper are some of the practical items Necromance offers. If you ever find yourself in Los Angeles i advise you march right over to Melrose Avenue and pay tribute to this gem. Until such time you can peruse and purchase online at Necromance.com

*images courtesy of Necromance.com

Capricorn and Pisces, from Yana’s ongoing Astrology Series.

Yana Moskaluk is a young illustrator from Russia. As a teenage goth living in Siberia, Yana decided to pursue a career in the arts and moved to Moscow to begin work when she was only 19. Yana’s work is dark and playful, and shares many characteristics with that of Aubrey Beardsley; a balance between intricate linework and clean planes of color, the influence of Japanese printmaking and love for the sensual and the grotesque. Coilhouse recently caught up with Yana for a quick Q&A:

Coilhouse: You’re currently in the middle of illustrating a series of Zodiac illustrations. Do you believe that astrology really works?

Yana: Astrology — yes. General horoscopes from magazines — no. This series of illustrations is a commercial work for a magazine, so I’ve started to draw it not on my own.

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!