The separation between advertising & editorial was likened by Henry Luce to the division between church and state; a vital, necessary wall that keeps a magazine honest and pure. We’ve had to turn down several advertisers so far because they pressured us to blog or run print features about them as part of the deal, and will continue to do that as time goes by.
That said, I’d like to dedicate a special blog post (though none of them asked for it) to our four main Issue 01 sponsors: people who decided to place an ad in the first two issues of a magazine that wasn’t yet even published, with a relatively small print run and no proven track record of print success. For a business to give their ad dollars to a such a new publisher, especially in 2008’s economy, was asking a lot. But these guys took the leap, and it’s because of them – as well as all of you, who ordered Issue 01- that we’re able to make Issue 02.
In Heaven Everything is Fine: The Unsolved Life of Peter Ivers and the Lost History of New Wave Theatre by Josh Frank and Rabbi Charlie Buckholtz (New York: The Free Press, 2008)
Every decision you make is the chance to become a hero.
– Peter Ivers
Political correctness notwithstanding, some people are born with a creative pulse and an innate set of skills that set them apart from the rest of us. In Heaven Everything is Fine: The Unsolved Life of Peter ivers and the Lost History of New Wave Theatre is the oral history of one of those people – Peter Ivers – and the cultural milieu he helped create. It’s a celebration of the bizarre, a story of love, and a tale of the magic of creative combustion set at Harvard in the early 1970s and in Los Angeles for the duration of the decade and into the early ‘80s. It ends in murder.
Who was Peter Ivers and why should we care? He was the epicenter of some of the most influential American artists in film, theatre, music, and television of his day: David Lynch, Devo, National Lampoon, Harold Ramis, Francis Ford Coppola, Saturday Night Live, as well as perfomers in the burgeoning Los Angeles punk scene. More than just a lynch-pin, Ivers brought a dazzling array of talents and sensibilities to his work: he was a blackbelt in karate, a yoga enthusiast, and a habitual pot smoker. And it was none other than the great Muddy Waters who called that Jew boy “the greatest harp player alive.”
45 Grave performing “Evil” on New Wave Theatre.
Ivers’s accomplishments and collaborations included: writing the theme of Eraserhead (for which this book was named), dating Stockard Channing, working with John Lithgow on college theater, recording five albums of distinctly strange music for unappreciative major labels (Epic and Warner Brothers), performing in diapers and bunny slippers at Lincoln Center, and, as opener, on separate occasions, for the New York Dolls and Fleetwood Mac (whose fans booed him off the stage). Most of all, Ivers is known for championing all things genuinely queer as the puckish host ofNew Wave Theatre, an early cable access program showcasing the efflorescence of musical talent then found in the Los Angeles underground.
While some people are takers – they take your ideas, they take your time, they take lives – others, like Peter Ivers, the tragic hero of this tale, are BUILDERS. New Wave Theatre began on Los Angeles cable access and was soon picked up by the USA Network as part of its “Nightflight” programming, making Peter Ivers the Johnny Appleseed of American alternative culture. New Wave Theatre simultaneously created a space for people to shine and projected the generated light into the American living room, inspiring a thousand flickers of oddness across the country.
Ivers interviews the Castration Squad on New Wave Theatre. (Photo via Alice Bag, thanks!) L-R: Tiffany Kennedy, Elissa Bello, Dinah Cancer, Shannon Wilhelm, Peter Ivers and Tracy Lea.
Autumn is upon us, so I’m busting out all of my favorite fall records. First up: anything and everything Jill Tracy has ever touched with her long, thin, alabaster hands.
As can be plainly seen from this gorgeous music video for “Haunted by the Thought of You”, Madame Tracy is one classy dame. Cool as a cucumber. Who else do I know who could maintain such an unflappable air of poise and elegance as reanimated hearts, levitating chairs, creepy humanoid automata, and even the arse of Satan himself loom directly behind her? No one!
Jill Tracy performing live in NYC. Photo by Don Spiro.
I’ve been swooning over the Victorian parlor pianist/netherworld chanteuse ever since a video for her seminal song “The Fine Art of Poisoning” was released a few years back, but she’s been casting her Ghostly Gloom Glam Queen spell for well over a decade (since long before this latest incarnation of the “dark cabaret” movement picked up speed), always with unparalleled grace and sincerity.
The songs collected on her latest album The Bittersweet Constrain(two in particular: “Sell My Soul” and “Torture”) do indeed invoke a delicious sort of pleasure/pain, not unlike the burn of real wormwood absinthe trickling down the gullet; unsettling and exhilarating as receiving a languorous tongue bath from a black cat at midnight on some foggy, windswept moor. Highly recommended.
In 1994, Margaret Cho starred in an ABC sitcom called All-American Girl – or, as Cho called it, “Saved by the Gong.” It was the first show about about an all-Asian American family on television. If you remember seeing it on TV, you remember how quickly it disappeared. Mainly, it failed because of network meddling with Margaret’s on-screen persona.
First the network decided that she wasn’t skinny enough, and put pressure on Margaret Cho to lose weight to play the part of herself. It didn’t help that show was met with minimal enthusiasm by the Korean-American community; one 12-year-old Korean girl wrote in to say, “when I see Margaret Cho on television, I feel deep shame.” Panicked by this type of reaction, the network decided that Cho wasn’t Asian enough. To improve the situation, they hired an “Asian consultant” to teach Cho about chopsticks and not wearing shoes in the house. For some reason, that didn’t help! After consistently low ratings, the entire cast was fired except for Cho and the grandmother. Shortly thereafter, the show went up in smoke.
Since then, Margaret Cho has done many wonderful things, including eight tours, two books and a burlesque show. But one thing she’s not done since All-American Girl was star in a television show – until now, with the arrival of The Cho Show. It’s the second-ever show about an all-Asian American family; no one’s tried since All-American Girl. Margaret vows that this time – along with her parents (real ones this time), her gays and her elegant 3’10” co-star Selene Luna – this time, the show gets made on her terms. Episode 1 premiered today, and I quite enjoyed it. The full episode is posted on Margaret Cho’s blog. Go Cho!
The prices for Courteille’s diamond-encrusted bijoux range in the average of $10,000. Why use real diamonds? Gross! Nevertheless, there are a couple of baubles on Courteille’s site that I covet, and I include them here for your viewing pleasure.
That’s us up there, around 2am on Sunday morning, jaws stiff from smiling all night. We have you to thank, really – we couldn’t have expected a better turnout. An estimated 300+ people showed up throughout the evening. Familiar faces mixed with new ones, we welcomed several Issue 01 contributors and were delighted to finally meet some of you, as well.
Of course the night wasn’t without its challenges. Mer’s theremin got possessed during setup, Zoetica lost some skin executing parkour moves while jumping 12 feet from her roof onto a balcony during a lock jam emergency, Nadya’s hair interfered with the wireless connection, briefly. No matter, it was all ultimately worth it. The lemonade flowed electric, theremin music filled the air, the strawberries and meringues were sweet, the guests were plenty.
As promised, one of the chief attractions was our photo booth. Filled with Zo and Mer’s prized instruments, toys and inexplicable objects, it attracted a steady stream of thrill-seekers. Light-master Drew and soul-portraitist Lou, our esteemed photo-agents, put forth a herculean effort, the abundant results of which are on display on Flickr for your viewing pleasure.
LastNightsParty.com: Images 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 (the rest are not from the party & NSFW)
If your picture’s up here, feel free to identify yourself in the comments! Likewise, if you took or know of any other images from the evening, do share. Beyond the jump, just a few of our favorite portraits.
It’s the feeling that you don’t necessarily fit within your own time. You’re drawn to the past in ways you can’t quite understand… Jared Joslin
Two of Jared Joslin’s recent oil paintings, The Panther and the Zebra and Moonlit Starlet
My admiration for the visionaryJoslinposse knows no bounds. If there were any way for me to make the reception for Jared’s solo exhibition in Beverly Hills tomorrow night (August 14th), I’d be there with bells on (as well as a pair of schmancy silk stockings with seams up the back, and possibly one of those vintage, beaded cloche hats). Alas, in a strange twist of fate, I’ll be in the Joslin’s own city of Chicago, no doubt weeping disconsolately into a plastic cup of draft beer in the corner of some rock club. So glamorous.
Metropolis by Jared Joslin (2008)
I urge our readers in Southern California to attend the reception in my stead. Don’t miss the opportunity to bask in the breathtaking elegance, mystery and nostalgia of Jared’s recent work, a collection of oil paintings entitled Shadow of the Silver Moon. Quoting the press release:
In the Shadow of the Silver Moon, a spectrum of intriguing characters spring to life. There is a Dietrich-esque emcee, striking her silver-tipped cane against the parquet floor. An alluring chanteuse beckons with her sparkling eyes and an elaborately costumed fan dancer strikes an elegant, sinuous pose.
Performers and patrons are caught in the swirl of the evening, yet remain lost in their own private reveries. Under the Shadow of the Silver Moon, while the band is playing, mysteries hidden behind the eyes linger in the air, like fireflies in the night.
As we recharge and make our way through hundreds of party photos, allow me to draw your attention to a few worthwhile endeavors worldwide. Art, music and costumes galore await!
A night at Dr. Sketchy’s, as envisioned by Molly Crabapple
An international whirlwind of glitter, booze, babes and art can only mean one thing: Molly Crabapple has taken Dr. Sketchy’s on the road. Tonight’s festivities take place in Edinburgh at And The Devil May Drag You Under. On Wednesday, our London readership can welcome this juggernaut of a lady to Madame JoJo’s. You’ll be treated to salacious burlesque, an opportunity to draw expertly [un]dressed cabaret beauties and even prizes! Hosted by comedy heartthrob Dusty Limits and Molly herself, this is sure to be a spectacular night. Next up – Berlin and Helsinki! More information about the cabaret-meets-art phenomenon here.
DoV denizens
Certainly you’ve noticed our weakness for beautiful men in makeup, flamboyancy of Rococo fashion and high tales of adventure. Even my blackened heart goes pitter-patter at the rustle of a masterfully layered crinoline. Throw in a dress-up picnic and we’re in heaven. If you’re in or traveling to New York this month you can expect just that. Dances of Vice has cooked up a truly decadent spread for August 22 through 24. A nuclear blast to the senses, this event’s lineup boasts live music, fencing, theater inspired by time travel, Münchhausen and Marquis de Sade, art exhibited and performed, absinthe, and, god yes, a picnic at the New York Botanical garden. Damn right I’ll be there, taking part in the fashion extravaganza. If you’re an undercover dandy, courtesan or just a filthy strumpet in search of a good time, this is the ultimate place to be in two weeks.
On a completely different note, as the Olympics rage on in Beijing, my Flickr stream is being flooded with new photos from Kris Krug. He’s been on location for a while now, uploading huge batches of wonderful images, some of which I have a feeling you’ll enjoy.
It is time! We’re happy to announce Coilhouse Magazine’s Launch Party and Art Exhibit.
Held this Saturday at Hans Haveron Studios this event will be stuffed full of excellence. Look forward to:
Art, photography & fashion exhibit
Refreshments, with Mer’s “special” Electric Lemonade
Incredibly strange music
Photo booth with weird medical props, straight from Zo’s cave
Wall projections of Issue 01 art
Your first glimpse at the actual magazine!
Enjoy art. Become art via expert lenses of Polaroid superstar Lou O’ Bedlam and Zo! Style Technician’s own Andrew Yoon. Dress your snazziest and bring your friends. Everyone’s invited!
Venture below the jump to see work by the exhibiting artists.
Post-Nerd Prom portrait of your pitiful narrator, afflicted with the dreaded Con Plague, or perhaps some form of eyeball-displacing orbital tumor.
Apologies for not updating in “real time” on Sunday, but I’ve been slimed. That is to say, I have succumbed to the dreaded Con Crud, and could not muster the strength to lift my fingers (blackened, trembling, tumescent with pus) to type this missive until now. Tonight (scabby, delirious, drowning in my own phlegm) I’d like to share a consolidation of ComicKAAAAAHHHHN postcards, and quite possibly my death rattle, with you.
To start things off, here’s a chick straddling a seahorse monster:
This cover image of The Fabulous Women of Boris Vellejo & Julie Bell is fabulous indeed. It would be even more fabulous with the addition of some strategically placed tiny bubbles, don’t you agree?
