Krautrock: The Rebirth Of Germany. Part 1 of 6. Parts 2-6 posted under the cut.

Produced for BBC Four, this excellent hour-long documentary offers an engaging and comprehensive overview of the 60s/70s experimental music scene in Germany that came to be known as Krautrock. Here’s a fascinating glimpse of what it meant to be part of a generation of radical young musicians, artists and filmmakers struggling to redefine themselves in the rubble of post-war Germany. These kids were drowning in a sea of Schlager pop and classical schmaltz– arguably the music of cultural guilt and denial. Meanwhile, they had the most horrifying historical specters imaginable hanging over their heads. They were isolated, rebellious, and deeply disinterested in “traditional” anthemic western guitar rock. The synthesizer was newly invented, and electronic music as we know it today didn’t really exist yet. They breathed life into its lungs.

Featuring the works of Popol Vuh, Amon Düül, Can, Cluster, Neu!, Tangerine Dream, Kraftwerk, Faust and others.

Directed by Sugimoto Kousuke. Music by Manabe Takayuki. (via Ben Morris)

“The TV Show” animated short is one of those super condensed, frantically paced, ultra action-packed, hall-of-mirrors-ish, infinite-loopy, style-mashing, color-clashy, genre-fusing, worlds colliding, fractal braingasm-inducing kinda sorta thingies that most folks will probably need to watch multiple times in a serene, zen-like state before they begin to absorb everything that’s going on.

It was independently produced by director Sugimoto Kousuke, who sees many things. He sees plans within plans.

These hypnotizing animated collages were created by Greek animator Aggeliki Vrettou. Her biomechanical creatures appear to be propelled into motion by everything from electric kitchen appliances to living doll parts. In many cases, the animals’ anatomy is completed by other augmented animals, such as the rat “tail” of the horse above and the breathing apparatus on the muzzle of her animatronic seahorse. Her web presence consists of a MySpace page, where this series can be found, and a YouTube channel where she hosts some mesmerizing animated music videos created for the Greek indie electronic band Ion. Vrettou’s stunning animations vaguely remind me of the haunting animation/artwork associated with Mer’s musical project, The Parlour Trick, created by Scott Spencer (this itself may appear reminiscent of a Beats Antique cover, but predates it). If you’re looking at this post in an RSS reader, the images may not appear to be animated. Click here to see these animals (and others from this series) in full swing!

When I went to art school you could always tell the graphic design majors. They were always the well-dressed, well-groomed ladies and gentleman. Their clothes were unwrinkled and unstained; devoid of paint, charcoal, or bodily fluids. They had it together. It was only upon speaking with them that one was made aware that they had not slept in days, spending every waking moment creating a book of fonts that, they assured you were all quite different, despite what your eyes may tell you, Philistine.

Needless to say they were not the sort that would associate with a ne’er-do-well cartooning major like myself. These people had goals; they were going to get jobs, jobs that actually pertained to their field of study. They would be the ones who would pick the typeface for the books I read and insisted upon the inclusion of a short biography of said typeface near the back so that I would know just how this amazing evolution of the printed word came to be. They would lay out the magazine and brochures. They would make actual money. They would be able to eat on a regular basis. They may as well have been aliens.

It is for you, then, that I link this video. You will understand that this is no simple parody of Lady Gaga’s “Pokerface”, a performer who is a parody already, thereby making this only a part of a Moebius strip of parodies. No, this is truly a love letter to the subtle, almost mythical realm of typeface; a realm whose various shades are so subtle that only the true master can decipher the alchemy involved. It is a fabulous ode to mean lines and baselines, descenders and ascenders, serifs and the lack thereof; replete with bow-ties and beards.

To the rest of you I apologize for the graphic design and Gaga, but not for the beards and bow-ties.

via Bioephemera

Polish artist Szymon Klimek creates startlingly small models out of paper thin sheets of brass, which he displays in glass goblets. Even more astounding are his lilliputian, moving engines powered by the rays of the sun with the use of tiny solar panels. I have a raging nerd-on for work like this. I spent much of my youth attempting to hastily construct various types of models and miniatures. My lack of patience was a considerable hindrance, meaning that I left a long trail of shoddily painted plastic and wood behind me; amorphous piles of acrylic, enamel, and glue that in no way resembled the images that adorned their respective packages. One really must enjoy the process in order to construct magnificent pieces like Klimek’s and I, like many, am much more interested in the destination than the journey. I suppose that’s why they invented money.

via The Automata

Have you guys been keeping track of Ignite? Such an invigorating concept: give a sharp-minded, silver-tongued, unabashedly geeky speaker five minutes on stage to present a “speedy presentation” on a topic of their choosing.  Said speaker gets 20 slides which rotate automatically after 15 seconds. “Enlighten us, but make it quick” is the motto.

In the three years since Ignite was founded in Seattle (by Brady Forrest and Bre Pettis), hundreds of these speedy presentations have been given. Ignite communities are cropping up in major cities worldwide. Earlier this year, the lovely Zoe Keating gave a chat titled “Should You Quit Your Day Job and Join a Rock Band?” at an Ignite event in Sebastopol. Just last week, Coilhouse’s favorite Eisner Award-winning culture journalist, Douglas Wolk, dropped this bomb on an appreciative audience in Portland:

Click Wolverine to watch the video.

His talk, titled “Kant’s Critique of Aesthetic Judgement: Drastically Condensed Awesome Version“, is illustrated with a dazzling array of comic book panels. It is 100% pure Douglas, and 100% pure BADASSTICAL. Enjoy.

Videogioco by Donato Sansone reminds me of something that you would find on MTV during the mythical Time When It Was Cool/Played Music Videos; an era that took place sometime in the 80s or 90s depending on your place on the generational timeline and how curmudgeonly you are. Crude, drugstore violent, and imaginative, it is a meticulously crafted piece of work. I cannot imagine the planning that goes into something like this; the individual frames laid out in such a way as to allow Donato, hunched over them, to reveal each picture as needed.

via who killed bambi?

Many of you will recall our Issue 02 interview with Andy Ristaino, a brilliant comics artist/writer based in San Francisco. His visual style is extremely dense, textural and multi-layered, drawing inspiration from Japanese manga and ’60s head shop comix. Both the art and the text are rife with secret codes, cross-referenced visual puns, and painfully funny non-sequiturs. At times, the inked pages look almost like bas relief, or woodcut sculpture.

Detail of the cover art for Escape From Dullsville by Andy Ristaino.

It’s challenging, kaleidoscopic work– certainly not “skimmable”. As Andy would put it, his comics just aren’t the kind of thing you pick up and read in a matter of minutes, then never look at again. “So much time and effort goes into making comic books, but for the most part, they’re still a disposable medium. [I have always wanted] to create books where you couldn’t just skip ahead and read the last panel to find out what happens.” (Mission accomplished. I’ve read his oversized graphic novel The Babysitter three times now, and I’m still discovering  delightful new details.)

When I first met Andy well over a decade ago, he was hard at work on a demented, epic title for SLG Comics called Life of a Fetus. The premise:

A claustrophobic fetus grows tired of its surroundings and decides to make an early exit, setting an avalanche of bizarre happenings in motion. Soon the fetus becomes embroiled in the plots and schemes of the likes of little green men, mad scientist puppets, government cover-ups, jet-packed babysitters, strange cults, anarchists, beatniks, psychotic magicians, truckers, and crazy mothers, as it goes on the most wigged-out of road trips through the good ol’ U.S. of A.

About a week ago, he finally finished the 288 page book collecting all 7 issues of L.O.A.F. The collection, titled “Escape from Dullsville” also contains over 80 pages of new material, including the previously unpublished L.O.A.F. #8. Unfortunately, pre-orders have not been high enough for SLG to justify printing the book. (That can’t have been an easy decision for a publisher so dedicated to supporting industry underdogs.) Unless Andy can raise enough pre-order sales quickly it may never be printed. That, my friends, would be a crying fucking shame. To say the least.

You need to look at Andy’s art at higher res to even begin to comprehend how insanely awesome it is. Click here, here, here and here for larger jpegs.

Andy’s hoping to get everyone who would normally buy the book when it came out to preorder it from Amazon ASAP. (For less than 14 bucks! 6 dollars less than the official cover price). If SLG receives enough pre-order sales, the book will be printed. Folks who go through Amazon will not be charged until the book is shipped. Even more amazingly, Andy is offering a personalized original sketch of one of his book’s characters to anyone who emails him a photo of themselves holding the book when it comes out. He’s taking requests, even.

I just ordered two copies.

Our next and final feature on Late-to-the-Party Sunday is this collection of prosthetics-inspired, insectlike body armor created by recent University of the Arts London graduate Úna Burke, blogged everywhere and recently rediscovered by Haute Macabre. On her site, Burke explains the rationale behind these creations: “This is a conceptual collection of wearable art pieces, depicting a series of eight human gestures associated with the cause, the physical and psychological effect and the healing stages of human trauma…in my research I have referred to the work of artists, photographers and designers such as Hans Bellmer, Anthony Gormley, Alexander McQueen, Erwin Olaf, as well as looking at the casts of the victims of Pompeii. The entire collection made from undyed vegetable tanned leather which is reminiscent of caucasian flesh.”

Burke’s pieces are reminiscent of fellow Londoner Paddy Hartley’s Project Facade in their sensual combination of sculpture and fashion to represent body trauma and the trappings of recovery.

Next up on Late-To-the-Party Sunday, we present The Body Bakery. This has been blogged in many places, but I especially appreciate shape+colour’s thoughtful coverage of the subject:

(insert cannibalism joke here). (insert “eat me” joke here). (insert “put your foot where your mouth is” joke here).

Thai-based Kittiwat (I love his name) Unarrom is the son of a baker with a fine arts degree who decided to create the contents of a serial killer’s freezer using dough, raisins, cashew nuts, and chocolate. All the items he makes are packaged up like food and available for sale at his gallery/shop. Here’s an adorable video of mothers and their kids shopping for dismembered delicacies. It’s official: I love you, Thailand. I’m rooting for you to out-weird Japan!

[via Asha Beta]