We had a few requests recently for a favorite spots in LA post, prompted by the sad departure of cafe Nova Express. Here’s one for your Monday nights, especially good for those who simply refuse to believe the weekend has to end somehow.

Held downstairs at Catch One – the same place as LA’s top industrial club Das Bunker, Ground Control‘s song books list music by your favorite alternative artists, including Kraftwerk as you can see above. Industrial, goth, metal, indie, 80s and more are all here in a friendly boozy atmosphere.

It doesn’t get crowded, people are genuinely nice and no one is afraid to make a complete arse of themselves, as I personally proved last night at the pajama party. And for those curious about what one wears to a pajama party held at a bar there are two options – sexy or hilarious, as modeled by me and my lovely roommate. So yes – check out Ground Control – it’s fun, even if you don’t sing.

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Thus opens visionary Béla Tarr’s Werckmeister Harmonies. The innocent hero Janos orchestrates a model of the solar system inside a bar. With this hypnotic scene the viewer is pulled into the frozen [though snowless] terrain of a poor Hungarian town. Based on The Melancholy of Resistance – László Krasznahorkai‘s 1989 novel, Werckmeister Harmonies is a journey through the bleak lives of some rather unhappy people among whom a romantic has the misfortune of existing. People whose sadness, suppressed anger and animal nature need but a trigger to explode into a hurricane of frenzied destruction.

When a circus claiming to have with it a whale carcass and a prince arrive in town square, suspicion and hysteria emerge. As if on queue, townspeople gather around like a pack of hungry dogs, no one daring to actually see the show, their collective agitation growing louder. Curious Janos is the first to enter the exhibit which turns out be no more than an enormous crate just big enough to hold the whale. He’s enthralled by the sight of the sea creature, enamored with its construction. We see his continued attempts to expose his cantankerous neighbors to the mystery and beauty of the world and be treated with patient condescension in return. Rumors about the prince spread, tension inflating until the unforgettable breaking point.

A sort of apparition – a tall, elegant and bejeweled creature, with wavering elegant gestures, reminding one rather of an Aubrey Beardsley illustration come to life – Clough Williams-Ellis about Henry Cyril Paget, 5th Marquis of Anglesey

The subject of the “Coilhouse patron saints” comes up in conversation quite often, and Henry Paget deserves a high rank on that list, perhaps between Genesis P-Orridge and Marchesa Luisa Casati. He was the most outrageous of the English aristocrats, often seen gallivanting around London bedecked in jewels and silk, with a poodle under his arm or driving a custom car spraying perfume from the exhaust pipes.

This was a boy raised entirely by women, first in a theater environment in Paris and later in the seclusion of a Gothic mansion in north Wales with little peer contact and sudden access to a seemingly endless supply of money. To call the grown up Henry Paget an eccentric would be a grave understatement, and his upbringing was blamed for his behavior and suspected homosexuality. The charismatic young man transformed himself into a work of art with each waking breath. Obsessed with being photographed, he spared no expense for his costumes, meticulously preparing his poses and taking on new personas for each shot. He even employed a team of dressers to help with frequent costume changes.

Briefly married to his cousin, he showered her with jewels, as well. He “liked to view his emeralds, his rubies, his diamonds displayed on her naked body. But he didn’t lay a finger on her. There was no sex… The marriage was annulled on the grounds of non-consummation.” says the Daily Mail. The Marquess may have shunned romantic involvement entirely, but surrounded himself with other beauty despite the raised eyebrow of aristocracy. His expenses included a number of modified cars, canes, “jewels, furs, boats, perfumes and potions, toys, medicines, dogs, horses and theatricals on a scale unimagined”.

Angel City is a strange place, a concrete sprawl with hidden oases of wonderful things not found anywhere else. These things are what makes this city worth inhabiting and tonight my favorite of all closes its doors forever.

Nova Express, presumably named after a William S. Burroughs book and decorated accordingly, opened its doors in the early 90s, the same year, in fact, that I landed in this country. It knew all the ways to my heart – excellent food, spectacular space-decor, low lights and late hours. I’ve now been going to Nova ever since my pre-teens, celebrating, mourning and meeting for, yes, fifteen years. In fact, the very first official Coilhouse staff meeting was held there, over some cosmic pizza and alarmingly powerful martinis.

I’ll miss the vintage anime projections, the hundreds of old plastic robots, the all-seeing Cthulhu in the corner, my favorite amoeba-shaped table in the window with its lava lamp askew, every last bit of the place, damn it. Cary Long is the owner and artist behind the awesome SciFi decor, to whom I tip my hat and say “Well done”. This was the first place I would name when asked about the best spots to visit in LA, the only place of its kind and it will be missed more than Cary may ever know. Please don’t go, Nova.

• Nova Express official website
• More photos I took tonight at the closing
• A friend’s thoughts on the situation and fate of unique venues

Nothing can top the excesses of royal 17th century France. The fashion, the banquets, the art – everything radiated king Louis XIV’s obsession with opulence. This grandiosity is captured in Vatel, Roland Joffré’s film starring Gerard Depardieu and Uma Thurman. Julian Sands plays Louis XIV with Tim Roth is his impeccably sleazy right hand man Marquis de Lauzun. Vatel tells the true story of a famed master chef ordered to feed, entertain and impress the capricious Sun King over a weekend at Chateau de Chantilly.

The costumes are, naturally, spectacular. To draw parallels between today’s rock stars and 17th century royalty, when choosing the materials for all the magnificent gowns and frocks Joffré took the costume designer to a Parisian shop specializing in dressing famous musicians. He also advised that the actors listen to rock music in their dressing rooms to get them in the proper mood. The cast is excellent as is the acting, there is intrigue, fireworks and brazen displays of food throughout. The set are appropriately pompous and droolworthy. For all these reasons I dub Vatel required viewing.

Though the film ultimately denounces the corruption and arrogance of the nobility, I find myself shamefully enchanted by the lavish design, best showcased in the clip below the jump [enigmatically in Spanish].

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.

Her cell phone is ringing, but the display is turned off. She lightly pushes a small dot on the skin on her left forearm to suddenly reveal a two by four inch tattoo with the image of the cell phone’s digital display, directly in the skin of her arm. She answers the call by pushing a tattooed button on her arm. While she’s talking, the tattoo comes to life as a digital video of the caller. When she finishes, the tattoo disappears.

Now imagine yourself sipping something exotic and maybe reading on a rooftop. Suddenly, the face of a dear friend [presently in Shanghai, for instance] emerges through the skin on your forearm. A long-overdue conversation begins. Not a bad prospect, mm?

Body modification may be a somewhat neglected topic here at Coilhouse, but every once in a while something truly unique catches our collective eye. Take this render of a blood-fueled subcutaneous cell phone implant, for instance. Revealed by Jim Mielke at Greener Gadgets Design Competition, this is not an actual phone with keypad, earpiece and mic, but rather a thin touchscreen – a silicon and silicone pad which runs on your very own fuel! Myriads of tiny spheres change from clear to black during calls and can be seen through your skin, digital video of the caller coming into view once a call begins.

Only a concept at the moment, this is a mod I’ll be signing up for just as the option is available, provided there is a way to turn the thing off. Via Psyorg.

Christina Ricci’s been an icon of dark beauty ever since the Adams Family movie. She’s played quirky and odd her entire life, her doll-like face and dark hair the epitome of spooky charm. Despite widely publicized body issues of her past and being just over five feet tall, Christina is a wonderful and versatile model.

She seems to have finally gotten comfortable in her skin and in addition to a resurge in acting has been a subject of countless photo shoots, some of which are credited today over at foto decadent.

Christina has embraced her height, and even thinks it could one day help her play a spy. She says in her latest interview “I always figured I would be the one they send through the air vent if something happened. You know: ‘Can fit in small places'”.

Indeed, the world needs more tiny, round-headed fawns like Ricci. I love the way she radiates this colossal confidence, especially knowing that it hasn’t come easy. Together with some great photographers Cristina Ricci has created some sensual, strange and beautiful images – my favorites are showcased beyond the jump.

As promised, an all-black edition of WZW.

And now, The Zo Curly Hair Nest® instruction – because you all want to look like crazed Zo-hobos. Also known as “Zobos”.

• WIth a medium-sized curling iron curl approximately 1 – 2 inch sections of hair.
• Spray each section with hairspray once curled. I use Big Sexy Hair Spray N’ Play brand.
• Once hair cools finger-com curls so they aren’t uniform spirals
• Arrange curls on head, using bobby-pins to fix them into place

And there you have it.

On Saturday I watched Sejayno at the Machine Project. Sejayno is a nomadic experimental noise group, composed usually of Peter B, Carson Garhart and Severiano Martinez. Machine Project’s website lured me in with promises of “homemade electronic instruments (renaissance trompette coat, spoon bowl shinth) and channeling ghostal hippy fluttertalk to enraptured open-mouthed audiences”, despite my fear of hippies.

It had been too long since the last time I’d seen or heard anything of the sort, and the entire thing actually took me on a ride down into the cobwebby recesses of memory. As one of the members put on what look like a cardboard half-moon from a samurai helmet, I wondered if this was going to hurt, and whether sitting in the second row of the small art gallery space was a good idea after all.

There were several instruments and contraptions laid out on a workbench in the dark room, and two video projections – one pre-recorded montage of distressed images reminiscent of El Topo, and another on an adjacent wall filmed live through what appeared to be a webcam.

The sound initially made me think of a project conceived by people deep in throes of a bender. It was unclear whether the performance was rehearsed or entirely improvised, reminding me of Throbbing Gristle, the Far East and Pink Floyd, to name a few. Members took turns singing, humming and muttering. Their instruments were indeed unique and handmade; there was what appeared to be a synth with a wind input, something reminiscent of a shamisen, a rice drum that sounded like the ocean and my favorite – the Sidrassi Organ – a pressure-sensitive appliance made of wood. Also impressive was an elegant hand-carved bass guitar.

The show lasted over an hour, though by the end I hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed. After, the audience was welcome to try out the instruments which had me poking at the Sidrassi Organ for a while. Conveniently, you can order Sejayno’s wonderful creations on their website [prepare to scroll, a lot]. And in case you were wondering, “inventor Peter [Blasser] is available to speak at your electronic circuits class, interface symposium, or wabi-sabi house conference.”