The oldest known folk song of Japan is called Kokiriko-Bushi. Villagers in secluded Gokayama used to perform it in honor of local Shinto deities.
A wonderfully daft electro-pop wizard who goes by Omodaka came up with the idea to revamp the song with chiptune vocals and Stevie Wonder-isms. He then handed the track over to the equally wonderfully daft animator Teppei Makki, sick who made the following video. It features a breakdancing marionette skeleton cutting a rug with a dexterous disembodied hand and assorted Residents reminiscent eyeball-headed women at the cosmic discotheque. Enjoy:
Artist Brian Dettmer carves up books to reveal their essence in sculptural form. Under his surgery, sales an anatomical reference book becomes a shadowbox of elegant bones; the overwhelming complexity of an encyclopedia manifests itself as a busy, diagrammatic universe of multi-tiered images and words. The book content, sliced into intersecting overlays, begins to resemble a busy highway as seen from above. Relationships between different parts of the book become exposed in an ever-circulating pattern. These sculptures amplify the sensuality of holding a book a hundred times over. This idea of paper-fetish ties in strongly with why we feel the need to publish Coilhouse in printed form. Clicking on blogs is fun, but nothing beats the feeling of turning a crisp page. [via ashiikankwe]
This sexatronic fan-made cover for Janet Jackson’s single “Feedback” has been taunting and circling the Internet for a couple of weeks. Now the video is out, YouTubed and miss Jackson is back in full fetish fashion force. This look has become Janet’s signature, though few things could ever top the purple latex bustle+pants number she wore in 1999 for Busta Rhymes’ glorious, if a bit confusing, hyper-futuristic “What’s It Gonna Be?” video.
In Feedback Janet slithers around a tiny planet in domme gear – gloves, knee-high boots and hooded catsuit. There is even a dance sequence toward the end and Janet still has it, though the moves are more fluid than the mechanical Rhythm Nation style we love. But there are also shiny face shields, hair-pulling, floating in open space, and a giant bowl of what I can only hope is milk. Michael would approve.
As for the song, eh. So mute the video, play something thumpy and click below.
Anke Merzbach is a German artist with a fetching name specializing in stark otherworldly photography. Her website, Bildmacherin, contains six galleries filled with beautiful color, tangles of hair, and mysterious expressions. Every image seems enchanted, with its characters just paused for a moment amidst an unfolding fantasy.
Unfortunately my German knowledge is non-existent so there isn’t much more I can offer here. A bit of brief research lead me to Anke’s flickr account as well as a few other bits of web presence but nothing with so much as a bio in English. I almost prefer it – perhaps she’s as mysterious as her images. Enjoy a small selection of my favorites below, and the rest on Anke Merzbach’s official site.
“Wait, he didn’t burn you a CD, he made you a tape? Aww, that is so romantic!” – Lee, Tarantino’s Death Proof
I have nothing left of some people other than a little cassette. This may not seem like much, but for anyone who’s ever engaged in the mating ritual of mixtape-swapping, it’s possible to extrapolate someone’s entire personality out of the mix that they made you. Song pacing and order convey temperament, a sense of humor; tape artwork gives hints about sloppiness/neatness/artistic ability, and so on.
Mix tapes used to be my primary means of flirting; many of my relationships can be measured by the miles of magnetic tape that accumulated between us. There were sad tapes and happy pop tapes; tapes with themes like Seven Deadly Sins; mixes intended to indoctrinate, communicate and seduce.
It was always so ritualized. As you recorded, mulling over every song, doodling around your track list, maybe even collaging together some cover art, you imagined your intended recipient taking the music in for the first time. Would they feel what you had felt when you first heard that song? Would they feel jarred by a certain song combination? The final product involved sound, sight and touch (and smell and taste, if you were really creative!). A gift that was half narcissism and half generosity, it always begged for a response.
Did you make mix tapes too? Did someone give you a tape that changed you? Slap it on the scanner, scan every piece, and send it to us. Or make a brand-new tape, for other Coilhouse readers. But don’t just send a playlist, really make it! Think up a new theme (here’s some inspiration), decorate the the tape/stickers/box/track list, scan the whole thing and submit the images. The most creative mix tape art will be published in Coilhouse Magazine, Issue 1! You don’t actually have to mail a tape, but I will seek out everything on your mix and listen, in the exact order that you intended.
Top Image: “Don’t Take My Word For It Mix” by Jonathan Marx from the band Lambchop. Published Mix Tape: The Art of Cassette Culture by Thurston Moore.
Chocolate is the latest from director Prachya Pinkaew, the man at the helm of Ong Bak and Tom Yum Goong/The Protector, two internationally acclaimed martial arts films starring the inimitable Tony Jaa. I was disappointed to hear that the collaborators had a big falling out recently, apparently due to Jaa’s desire to direct the Ong Bak sequel himself, and prompting Pinkaew to cancel their much-anticipated Sword project. If anyone can land on their feet after such upheaval, it’s Jaa! But I found myself wondering how on earth Pinkaew would replace him. The answer is Nicharee “Jeeja” Vismistananda, a very talented young woman who has been training with Jaa’s own Muay Thai mentor and fight choreographer, Panna Rittikrai, for several years.
In Chocolate, [Vismistananda] plays an autistic girl who goes on a mission to collect debts to save her ill mother, a course of action that puts her on a collision course with gangs of both the local Thai and Japanese varieties. Japanese film fans will recognize popular Japanese leading man Hiroshi Abe as one of the yakuza bosses.
(Wooo! Hiroshi’s a hottie.) The following trailer is un-frigging-real. Choreography is top notch and this girl is appropriately fast, fierce and fearless. There are some exhilarating nods to Bruce Lee. They’ve even included bloopers of both Jeeja and her stunt double enduring some painful missteps to assure viewers of authenticity. No wires, no special effects. Just human beings accomplishing extraordinary physical feats.
When I returned to Moscow after 14 years things had changed. A lot. My Russian slang was suddenly dated, most older women had fire engine red hair and there were superior coffee shops everywhere. To adjust and get a better feel of the Motherland I spent my evenings watching television.
Moskva Instruktsiya, or Moscow Instruction, is a program claiming to be a guide to Moscow’s growing subcultures. Conventionally attractive (and somewhat condescending) hostesses serve as the viewers’ chaperones to the underground. While the show is informative and uses now edgy propaganda art-inspired titles it does feel like the reality TV exploitation we’re used to here in the States. Interesting nonetheless is this piece of Instruktsiya gold YouTube so generously provided. I give you Russian Emo, Punks and Cyber Goths on Moskva Instruktsiya.
Hey, remember when Disney didn’t suck and blow simultaneously?
Deep down, most of us suspect that ol’ Uncle Walt was a sexist, racist, feeb-informing Machiavellian rat king. (Still, who doesn’t love Pinocchio?) And while there’s no doubt Disney’s recent corporate merge with Pixar and subsequent shakedown (leaving prodigies Lasseter, Catmull and Jobs steering the ship) will bring back much of the first company’s long lost artistry, the question bears repeating: have the past 20 years of Disney output blown epilepticpygmy goats,or what? Wtf happened?*
Never mind. Let’s focus on the semi-positive and take a look Disney’s chaotic neutral, pre-sucky years. I know I’m not the only one with fond recollections of the many offbeat live action flicks Disney produced in the late 70s and early 80s. Uncle Walt was in cryogenic deep freeze and the company’s heyday was fading, but gems like TRON, Something Wicked This Way Comes, and most poignantly their ridonkulous sci-fi space epic, The Black Hole all have a special place in this gal’s personal What Made Me Weird lexicon.
Yvette Mimieux gets some much-needed laser surgery.
Produced on the heels of Star Wars’ popularity, The Black Hole is one of Disney’s last gasps of cornball genius. Sure, it’s got problems. No originality, for starters. As one reviewer put it “[this is] nothing but a ‘creepy old house’ movie set in space.” Also, the screenwriters seem to have been unsure what demographic they were writing for, resulting in a plot that insults adult viewers’ intellects while still managing to scare the ever-loving crap out of children (and making The Black Hole the first PG-rated film in Disney history). Hokey dialog and unfortunate wardrobe choices abound. But if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times; you can’t go wrong with Ernest Borgnine. If that’s not enough to entice you, there’s John Barry’s amazing score, the incredible scale models and sets, scene after scene featuring beautiful, richly colored matte paintings of deep space, and Anthony Perkins getting the Cuisinart treatment.
Best for last, the Maximilian <3 Reinhardt 4-Ebber (In Hell) ending:
Mixing pinstripes and argyle, and I will not be stopped. A deep-rooted obsession with combining gray and eggplant is to blame. My bedroom is a variety of grays and eggplant/plum shades, the only non-black tattoos I have are deep violet, I’m an avid consumer of purple vegetables and so on. The big squishy eggplanty scarf you see here came from a street vendor in Venice and cost all of $10 unlike some of the popular versions which have peaked in popularity recently. These are often overpriced and worn in ways I cannot approve. (Example)
Moving on, however, let us talk of 3/4 length coats. Rather, let me sing praises to them, because there is just no better-looking fit. A good 3/4 length jacket makes one look taller and better-proportioned through the sheer magic of its construction. This is true for boys and girls alike, and believe me when I say that few visions are more dashing than a man in a pair of slim pants and a 3/4 length coat. Onward, to the rest of the photos!
A photo from one of General Tom Thumb’s successful tours in Europe.
Charles Sherwood Stratton was born today in 1838. His birth weight was a hearty 9 pounds, 2 ounces. For the first 6 months of his life, Charles continued to develop normally. Then, quite suddenly, he stopped growing. On his first birthday, the boy’s chagrined parents realized he hadn’t grown an inch or an ounce in half a year. They took him to a doctor, who told them it was unlikely their child would ever reach a normal height (he mostly likely suffered from pituitary gland malfunctions). Charles was a little over two feet tall and weighed 15 pounds.
Left: a playbill featuring the General’s many talents. Right: Stratton as a young child.
The embarrassed Strattons muddled along with their tiny son for four years until P.T. Barnum heard tell of the boy and negotiated with them to exhibit Charles on a trial basis in Barnum’s own NY museum. The family was paid a princely sum of 3 bucks a week plus room, board and travel expenses for Charles and his mother.
