There is a decent read on MSNBC about the way our society’s ballooning vanity has affected the post-mortem beautification process. Example: “Silicone implants will explode [during cremation]. They’re like little bombs.” What actually gave me pause was the attached video.
“Everyone in Harlem knows I’m the guy that puts a smile on your face. Other places you just look.. dead,” says Isaiah Owens – owner of a Harlem funeral home. The video itself is a series of stills from his practice. He specializes in post-mortem sprucing, but we’re not just talking the usual wax and paint treatment. No, this man genuinely delights in making the deceased look as cheerful as possible. The slides show Owens romancing a cadaver with his magic until she smiles an almost-Giaconda smile.
There are no demure neutrals for the ladies here – hot pink nail polish, generous helpings of subdermal injections and blush are this man’s passion. Isaiah’s reputation is that of making the dead look better than the living. The funeral home’s website refers to his style at “panache” and calls Isaiah a “rare individual”. After listening to the voice over a few times I have to agree – Owens is invested. There is a touching sincerity to his voice as he describes his work, step by step. To him, death is a beautiful release from earthly pain and he’s helping the dead obtain proper presentation for what lies beyond. Also interesting is the broad array of names he gives the bodies: remains, ashes, people. Despite this dichotomy I find myself liking the way he talks about death and admiring his certainty about what it means and what comes next.
When I die, I want a modest ceremony: my brain [or soul, if you like] is to be transplanted into a superior shell and launched into space. For my body I want a shrine of candles and flowers, followed by a few weeks in a crystal coffin somewhere public and a Viking cremation with my ashes let loose over Moscow. For all the young breathers to choke on.
On Friday, agent Q and I took a trip to Huntington Library and botanical gardens. The newly-open Dibner Hall offers a permanent collection titled “Beautiful Science” that’s dedicated to some of humanity’s most significant discoveries in astronomy, natural history, medicine, and light. The exhibit features an astounding array of manuscripts and artwork. Early visual representations of the world and the body were my favorite aspects of the show. All that imagination poured onto paper, attempting to solidify what could only be imagined at the time was very inspiring. There is also an adjoining exhibit of Charles Darwin’s botanical exploits in relation to his ideas of evolution. Included are Darwin’s actual hand-written logs and sketches, along with plant samples he harvested on Galapagos Islands. The Huntington is an enormous estate, we were only able to cover about one third of the perimeter! I intend to return soon and check out the Greene & Greene exhibit. Some of my photos from the gardens, here.
And what’s to be worn for a trip such as this? December in LA is as mild as one can imagine, with occasional cool winds and sparse rain. And with the museum being rather warm inside, the natural answer was “layers”. As we made our way through paintings and gardens I gave Q a crash-course in photography and snapped some photos of him, as well. We took over a park bench for nearly an hour doing so, much to the confusion of other visitors. Admire his man-fashion skills! Check out the boots I’ve been wearing non-stop for months! My fashion mantra since dying my hair black has been “raincloud”, as illustrated by the endless shades of gray that have taken over my wardrobe. Must be the season! Without further ado, the pictures, below.
There is a restaurant we three like to go to here in LA that plays current music videos from Russia. It was there, on election night of all nights, where my eye was caught by an odd music video. It stood out from the glittery, overly polished, collagen-peroxide-silicone blur that is Russian music TV. A Google expedition later I’m downloading everything by Dolphin, relieved that Stella Solieil isn’t a regular part of the configuration.
Andrei Lisikov a.k.a. Dolphin on the cover of Russian magazine Afisha
Dolphin has been making noise for over 10 years, has won several high-ranking awards but has yet to hook an international audience. The sound is something like The Streets on the last leg of a bender. Singer and former breakdancer Andrei Lisikov combines rap, soft singing and screaming over organic and electronic music. It’s not at all my usual cup of tea but after a few days’ worth of listening I still like it. The song below is called “Without us” and has some of the most misanthropic lyrics ever. It’s not my favorite but the video is neat.
Maybe Dolphin will become a guilty pleasure, akin to my secret love of George Michael? Only time will tell. While I sort through my conflicting feelings, I want to hear your thoughts on this stuff! There are several more completely different videos from Dolphin, after the jump. Has anyone heard of them before, while I was living under a rock? Does anyone dig it besides me?
A friend and I were deep in the tunnels of late-night Internet mining when he sent me a link to the image above. Accidental discovery! Ten minutes later we were scraping our jaws off the floor while perusing Patricia Piccinini’s website. “Young Family” is part of a series devoted to genetic engineering, tradition and our potential metamorphoses as result of rapid scientific and social change.
These creatures are designed by Patricia and created by teams of sculptors, painters and upholsterers. Beyond the mind-boggling technical aspects of her mixed media installations, Piccinini focuses on questioning science, humanity’s fading sense of acceptable reality and the discrepancies between physical and emotional beauty. From the essay about this pieces:
The sculpture puts on public display all the physical attributes denied in the days of plastic surgery, airbrushes and full-body waxes – fat, wrinkles, moles hairs and bumps. Their owner has her hands and feet curled up on themselves and lies in a semi-fetal position of defense and vulnerability, suggesting a kind of withdrawal from this display. At the same time, her humane demeanor and maternal generosity make these fleshly imperfections [for that is how we are socialized to see them] seem less important than acceptance and inclusiveness. Piccinni calls her “beautiful”, saying “she is not threatening, but a face you could love, and a face inlove with her family.
For all its grotesqueness, this sculptural tableau focuses on the loving, nurturing relationship of mother and babies that is fundamental to life This unifying quality – emphasized by the kidney-shaped enclosure of the group as a family unit – is at odds with the composite heterogeneity of the creature.
What I thought to be concept art for the Dark Crystal Pt. 2 turned out to be touching social commentary. I do still enjoy these sculptures on a purely visual level and come back to Patricia’s website to study every pore, fold and mystery orifice. A few more below the jump.
The film above, Rabbits’ Moon, was Kenneth Anger’s 1979 tribute to classic themes of love and folly, as influenced by Kabuki theater as well as commedia dell’arte. Japanese folklore’s Moon Rabbit is a symbol of self-sacrifice, not unlike Pierrot The Fool. Pierrot suffers at the whims of Columbine while Harlequin enjoys the show. This seven-minute film took twenty years to complete and its original score included music from The Capris, Mary Wells and Jamie Cullum among others. Anger, [Lucifer Rising, Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome,author of Hollywood Babylon] one of the world’s greatest experimental filmmakers, is presenting five of his films tonight at the very intimate RedCat Theater.
A towering figure of American avant-garde cinema since the mid-1940s, Kenneth Anger has posited himself at the junction of pop and underground culture, occultism and rock music. Tonight’s screening presents an array of works in which Anger subjects different ideologies and subcultures to his incisive vision and the uncanny re(de)constructive power of his editing skills. Ich Will (2008, 35 min.) montages newsreels from the Nazi era to Bruckner’s music. Mouse Heaven (2005, 12 min.) “does for Mickey Mouse what Scorpio Rising did for neo-Nazi biker gangs,” according to the UCLA Film & Television Archive. Elliott’s Suicide (2007, 15 min.) is an elegy for the late Elliott Smith, while I’ll Be Watching You (2007, 4:52 min.) and Foreplay (2008, 7 min.) explore two different forms of male bonding: sex in an underground parking structure and a soccer team’s training session. The program concludes with the seminal Scorpio Rising (1963, 29 min., 35mm), whose hallucinatory and campy communing with pop culture fetishes (chrome-trimmed choppers, James Dean, zippers, Jesus) has been an enduring avant-garde crowd pleaser.
I have threetwo [all gone, sorry peeps!] complimentary tickets available to the first three humans to write me with their emails titled “Anger!”. The presentation begins at 8:30 pm – don’t delay!
Silverton, Oregon has just electedStu Rasmussen for another term, making Stu America’s first openly genderqueer mayor. After the harsh disappointment over the passing of Prop 8 this is welcome news. What’s especially wonderful is the support Stu’s town offered during the transition, even though he was first elected as a traditional male.
“Obviously, it was shocking to them,” Stu told Good Morning America “We all kind of went through it together. It was pretty obvious I was making a change, it had to happen in my head. They were ready before I was.”
Good work, Oregon. I feel just a little bit better now.
There will be many posts like this across the Web now and tomorrow and for weeks to come. This is just a minuscule speck of human experience, brought to you by the overwhelming pride I feel tonight. What I want to do is just say thank you. Thank you for restoring what little faith we dared to extend to our ailing country.
I spent tonight with my mother in a Russian restaurant, drinking pepper vodka and hoping. Trying to not think, trying to shake the jitters that woke me at 5am today and sent so many of us flying to the polls well before they opened. When the television showed us your power, it was almost instant – the tidal wave of joy. Just as I was saying I was afraid to believe it, the screaming started. Outside, on Santa Monica boulevard, right in the heart of boystown, people were cheering and car horns were going off in the most beautiful cacophony I’ve ever heard. Mom and I stepped outside to absorb it all, along with the cold night air. She turned to me in all that wind and noise to say: “Do you believe it now?”. I almost began to cry.
What happens next is uncertain. Whether Obama will come through, whether we will finally begin to heal – none of it is clear in this moment. All we do know is our fate has been changed profoundly. This was our chance to prove we have evolved and we didn’t blow it. So thank you – to everyone who cast aside their cynicism, to everyone who made their voice heard along with ours. History was made tonight and we can only hope our faith will be justified. Celebrate, people. You’ve earned that right today.
You can keep track of propositions’ progress here.
That’s right my dearest squidlings, if you’re in San Francisco tonight, it’s your chance to see our own Meredith Yayanos perform a special set with the only living mermaid herself, Dame Darcy. Held at Isotope Comics, APE Aftermath is the one party you don’t want to miss, sure to thrill and inspire.
Comics legend, artist, author, doll-maker, celebrity, musician. Is there nothing the amazing Dame Darcy can’t do? The Isotope will be celebrating the launch of Darcy’s new book Gasoline and she will be enthralling the masses with a massive live pickin’ show on the Isotope’s world’s highest stage.
See it all for yourselves at 326 Fell Street, at Gough. The show is to begin at 7pm, so don’t delay!
Wode, the revolutionary art fragrance from Boudicca explores further the myth around Queen Boudicca [or Boadicea]. Legend has it she and her tribe wore a cobalt blue paint on their skin that gave them a ferocious and mythical look when advancing into battle. When finally defeated by the Romans Queen Boadicea killed herself by swallowing hemlock, an extract of which is included in Wode. When Wode is sprayed a vibrant cobalt mist appears and settles on the skin and clothing. Whether touched or not the ‘Wode Paint’ begins to fade and disappears completely leaving the scent behind.
That’s the official story. However, after watching the painfully seductive concept video below, my imagination went entirely elsewhere.
Perhaps half-dreaming before my daily dose of caffeine, I was whisked away to another time, where countless mermaids were enslaved and sacrificed for a wicked queen. Something of a Countess Bathory, she soaked in their cobalt tears to gain a mystical quality that made her irresistible in every way. With each bath, her skin would glow an opalescent blue, her voice would hypnotize and her eyes would leave you breathless. Alas, the magical effects of the tear potion were short lived and the slaughtering of mermaids went on until none remained on Earth.
There was another, Hentai-friendly scenario, best left to your own imaginations. Now I will have my coffee and try to make peace with spending $200 on this beguiling squid spray.
If you’re in the UK, Wode can be acquired here, otherwise consult the stocklist for a purveyor near you.
San Francisco-based artist Fred Einaudi has the sort of work that makes you do a double take. You’ll find yourself wondering what it is you’re actually seeing and whether you should laugh or cry.
The subject of death is most prevalent in Einaudi’s paintings. Though gas masks, skulls and children are commonly used symbols, seeing them depicted realistically and not in the exaggerated low brow style we’re used to, lends for a provocative experience. While I wouldn’t call this work “subtle”, it is difficult to gauge just how much humor Fred tries to inject into his paintings. Whether we see a young boy poking a woman’s floating corpse with a stick, Leda getting it from her swan, or a mechanical girl hungry for canary flesh, the intent, the artist’s voice, is subdued. Fred Einaudi’s realistic, dry execution reminds me of public service announcements from a post-nuclear word.
