As longtime readers will have surmised by now, Coilhouse has an excruciating artcrush on the entireJoslin clan. Gah! Hurts so good!
Just a quick head up to our readers in California: Jared Joslin’s latest exhibition, The Illusionists, opened tonight at George Billis Gallery in Los Angeles. Channeling 1930s circus and carnival imagery, the ghostly allure of abandoned amusement parks, and the dusty stillness of velvet draped parlors, Jared’s series of new paintings conjure the conjurers.
Jared’s wife, Jessica, whose own work was our biggest feature in Coilhouse Issue #01 (and who has since joined our staff roster, YIPPEEEEE) has been raving about this series for a while now:
This man is a magician. I’ve watched as each of these images has emerged, piece by piece, out of a pure white canvas. Once the eyes appear, they seem to take on a breathing life of their own. When they are finished, I can almost smell the air. In Shooting Gallery, it’s candied apples, popcorn, sawdust and the sharp tang of gun powder. In Fortune Teller, it’s incense and fading flowers, with a whiff of hay from a distant circus on the wind. Each piece brings you to a world that is seemingly of the past, yet so vividly rendered that it is timeless in its emotional resonance.
Mmmrrr. I’d give anything to see these in person. The Illusionists show also includes Carol Golemboski’s dreamy black and white photographs, and the mysterious photo montages of Liz Huston’s. Catch it between November 7th and December 19th at George Billis Gallery. Congrats, Jared!
Today is Goth Christmas. We wish you all happy hauntings.
It’s also the very last day of October and an opportune moment to observe a very important milestone: two years ago this month, the Coilhouse blog officially launched.
Despite being on completely different sleep schedules in three different time zones (hell, in two different hemispheres) we three wanted to make sure we got together to “properly” commemorate what is, for us, a pretty huge milestone. Drinks were drunk, cupcakes were flambéd, cherry pie plasma was snorted, and lascivious nekkid dancing in the dark may or may not have occurred:
WOOPWOOPWOOP! DING! (“Happy Birthday” song by Altered Images.)
Two years ago, none of us had any idea what we were getting ourselves into. We were relative strangers with tons of enthusiasm and not a whole lot of experience. A little over 24 months and incalculable hours of work later, Coilhouse has published over 1000 blog posts, 3 issues of a glossy bookazine style print mag, and there’s a splendid 4th issue in production unlike anything we’ve yet attempted.
We’ve got an incredible group of brilliant, self-motivated contributors working with us, and our cherished readership has proved itself time and time again to be as passionately in love with fringe media and alternative culture as we are. We’re a community. You know, we might even be some sort of post-nuclear, pre-singularity extended family.
This place is proof that a small, close-knit, somewhat green group of folks can saddle up and ride to all kinds of wonderful places. Thank you, all of you, for joining us. We’re in for the long haul, and we can’t wait to see where this journey takes us next.
Three cheers for Oakland-based photographer Neil Girling! Longtime readers may recall his beautiful work from this 2007 post about California’s thriving underground circus scene. More recently, Neil braved scorching temperatures and hoards of cheerfully chafing, corseted quaintrelles to bring Coilhouse the following photo essay about the second annual Handcar Regatta. A tip o’ the topper to you, good sir, and thanks again. ~Mer
September 27th saw the second installment of the Great Handcar Regatta, an afternoon of nonsensical anachronism, whimsy and ingenuity in Santa Rosa, CA. Though temperatures burned hot in the triple-digits, many thousands of spectators and participants flooded the Railroad Square historic park, perusing vendors, sipping refreshments, seeing live music, and — of course — watching the races.
Rock*N*Roll Sunday School Fixed Gear, powered solely by running, crosses the finish line.
Official MC Les Claypool provided commentary to the thronging crowds, which were said to have reached nearly 10,000 (a keen-eyed friend said Tom Waits was among them), many of whom were dressed appropriately old-timey for the occasion.
Quickly, in honor of International Talk Like A Pirate Day, here’s George Harrison on the BBC’s beloved Rutland Weekend Television show back in 1975, demonstrating why he’s my favorite Beatle:
OK, it’s official. For the first time since relocating my base of operations to the southern hemisphere, I’m homesick:
Right now just about all of my talented fabricator/maker/builder chums back in California are gearing up (hurr hurr) for the second annual Santa Rosa Handcar Regatta, which takes place Sept 27th. That’s exactly a week from now. From the Handcar Regatta’s “Philosophy” page:
The railcar races at the center of the Regatta highlights Innovation and Human-Powered Ingenuity to devise cheaper, viable, and hitherto undreamed of methods for bizarre transport beyond the standard notions of today. Additionally, commuter rail transport is highlighted in our era of rising fuel costs. Together with an emphasis on biking, the Regatta provides a platform for playfulness and sustainable concerns within the realm of human-powered alternative transportation.
Tinkerers, artists, and eccentrics both young and old are invited to participate in Artistic and Mechanical Innovation upon a playful and inspired mixture of fond remembrance for a stylized industrial railroad past remixed with progressive styles and technologies of today.
The elegantly feisty Hennepin Crawler, winner of the Erasmus P. Kitty Honorary Award at the 2008 Handcar Regatta.
If you live in the area and appreciate thoughtful, gonzo DIY fun on a massive scale, you will not want to miss this. Indie vendors, circus and dance performances, yummy foodstuffs, live music and multiple geekgasms await you. More info here. Have fun at the races, comrades.
Our issue 02 cover girl – 3’10” spitfire, comedienne and burlesque sensation Selene Luna – is celebrating her birthday this weekend! There’s no big party, but Selene is asking fans and friends to come and see her new one-woman show, which runs for only two nights, titled Chiquita!. In addition to Selene’s stand-up routine, the show also features a dance hit premiere written by actress/transgender activist Calpernia Addams, a video premiere by legendary alt-culture portraitist Austin Young, and much more. A brief description from Brown Paper Tickets, where you can find showtimes and ticketing information:
Luna pushes the envelope through dark humor and camp, weaving together a lifetime of adversity from her roots in Tijuana, Mexico to humorous tales of Hollywood that can only be told by a little person. Chiquita! is hilariously straightforward as Luna addresses topics most are too embarrassed to ask a little person. Luna has carved a niche for herself and continues to break the stereotypes of little people in entertainment. She continues to bring her magnetic appeal to broader audiences and plans to shake things up in a big way!
Even if you can’t be there, there’s tons of new Selene Luna hilarity to enjoy since we last blogged about this gutsy performer. Selene has recently teamed up with comedienne Nadya Ginsburg to co-write and release some short videos, which can be found on Selene’s YouTube channel. My favorite is their turn as Madonna and Lourdes, below:
In 1985 men and women from around the globe gathered in Mocrabeau, France to witness the nightmare fuel produced by human beings who can unhinge their toothless mandibles and swallow their faces. In the end, Herbert Kraft of West Germany was crowned the winner. Watching this clip, however, I’ve come to the conclusion that he stole it. The true winner should have been the unfortunate gentleman who appears at :20-:24 and whose demonic gyrations and twisted visage will haunt my dreams for months.
Here’s Bobby McFerrin at the World Science Festival last June, demonstrating how deeply internalized and anticipatory (if not truly universal), the language of music can be during a panel called “Notes & Neurons: In Search of the Common Chorus“:
A week ago, in a fighting rink hidden behind trees in the middle of San Francisco, I witnessed a grand melee. As dust rose and danced in the July light, a tournament of warriors fought each other for honor and glory. It was an epic battle of worthy and agile opponents: children, grown men and women, and elderly paladins alike. The game stretched on for several hours. Competitors were eliminated after rounds of bludgeoning each other with swords, their broken weapons littering the ground.
If you’re a little bit worried about casualties – don’t bother. The key element to this glorious battle was its weapon of choice – a cardboard tube. “Tube Fighting” is all the rage right now, even though the concept is only two years old, officially. While living in Seattle, a fellow named Robert Easley pondered ways to encourage friends and strangers to go out into the summer sunshine and do something playful, interactive and free. Eventually, he brainstormed the idea of hosting a melee with cardboard swords.
Since its inception, the game has grown into a large-scale network, with official chapters in cities like San Francisco and Sydney, as well as scores of unaffiliated gatherings taking place globally every summer. The rules of the game are simple –show up to the meeting spot and sign up on the list to be matched with a friend, or stranger, in battle. Regulation cardboard tubes are available for free if you are participating in one of the events organized by an official chapter. Otherwise, bring your own. The objective is to so thoroughly batter your opponent’s cardboard tube that it will break, thus disqualifying your competitor from advancing into the next round. Nobody actually hits each other – it’s their tubes that take all the beating.
Besides being a fun and cathartic form of stress release –drawing a large audience cheering from the sidelines– the tournament also encourages creativity, as many people make elaborate armor and helmets out of cardboard. Nothing is quite like the sight of a trio of Vikings in a cardboard ship being chased by a cardboard-headed robot, or a 5 year old girl pumping her fists in the air victoriously after winning yet another round of the tournament.
Tube Vikings Kristin, Layla and Jinny.
For official rules, check out tubeduel.com. If a League game isn’t officially scheduled in your home city, why not start your own? Just get some cardboard tubes, invite some friends and head out to a park or city square. (Make sure to double check regulations about large gatherings, before arranging a melee, of course). These photos from a week ago may prove inspirational.
More photos from Tanya’s outing after the jump. Not to be missed!
July 31st: untold years into the future. The incept date of a mysterious being known in this dimension as Zoetica Ebb. Deep in the dank, aromatic depths of the Coilhouse Catacombs, we’d all been wracking our brains as to how to best celebrate another year of the glorious Zobogrammatron’s dalliance in our own space/time.
We know she likes shiny baubles. And pure electricity. And raw meat. So, for weeks, we all pooled our modest resources, collecting them in a special porcine receptacle with the intention of taking Z out for sushi tonight, followed by dancing and Jacob’s Ladder-licking at the Edison Lounge. Also, Nadya and I spent countless nights sneaking away to a top secret, tucked-away laboratory alcove of the Catacombs. Combining our formidable thaumaturgical and soldering skills, we crafted a Rundell Tiara facsimile from unclassifiable, glittering glassine fragments found lining the deep crater in Siberia where Zoetica was said to be discovered.
The ominous crown was finally completed in the wee hours of this very morning. So very proud we were, and so very tired, we forgot to engage the Catacomb’s alarm system before passing out cold in our cots. Or to feed Ross Rosenberg (our brilliant but pathologically ill associate whose cage office is also located here) his daily can of uncooked Spaghettios.
A few hours later, we were awakened by the sound of maniacal cackling. Rushing into the central chamber, we caught a glimpse of Ross clambering out of the jimmied escape hatch with our piggy bank tucked under one arm and the precious Doom Tiara perched askew upon his malformed cranium. “I’M A PRETTY PRETTY PRINCESS. SAY IT!”
“Yes, Ross! You are! You’re the prettiest princess in all the land! Please, just put down the pig!”
“NO. I’M GOING TO SPEND IT ALL ON WHIPPETS AND PTERODACTYL PORN AND THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP ME. MOOHOOHAHAHAHAHA.”
“Ross! Nooooooooo!”
“SEE YOU IN HELL!!” With that, he slammed the escape hatch shut, leaving us bereft in the moldering darkness. But let it never be said that we are not resilient, resourceful gals. At the very last minute, through the magic of some hastily cooked up bathtub MDMA, Ross’s discarded balloon stash, and the Craigslist strippergram directory, we are still going to be able to observe Zoetica’s special day with an appropriate degree of sexiness and aplomb.
