“The Puppet Makers” Print Giveaway!

“Versailles, 1685. France has industrialized centuries before her neighbors but focuses on creating exquisitely ornate robotic shells for the aristocracy called, DOLLIES. Towering, lavishly expensive, [they] run on electricity provided by damming the Seine. Only the court elite wears DOLLIES, but their upkeep is beginning to bankrupt France. During the king’s birthday party, his Dolly explodes but is found to be empty…”

Artist Molly Crabapple (look for her illustrations in #05!) and author John Leavitt have been creating lots of buzz in recent weeks with The Puppet Makers, their gorgeous “rococo steampunk murder mystery” set in Versailles, 1685.  DC Comics’ online imprint, Zuda, has been publishing it in page-by-page increments each Wednesday. A stunning new page went up this morning.

Molly –generous and supportive friend to Coilhouse that she is– would like to give away a signed, limited edition print of one of The Puppet Makers’ pages to the Coilhouse reader with the “best guess as to where the king is”. Read up, then leave your deduction in comments for a chance to win!

Allan Barnes’ Wet Plate Dreamworld


Model: Maggie of Lucent Dossier. Collar by Dream Rockwell.

LA-based Allan Barnes’ love of “Jurassic” image-making technologies – ambrotypes, daguerreotypes, instant film, and the like – lends itself well to his portraits of artists, models and performers from the LA scene. Recently, his work has displayed a greater degree of sartorial opulence thanks to contributions from the likes of Lucent Dossier’s Dream Rockwell (who created the collar above), Billy and Mellie (formerly) of Antiseptic, and one Miss Laila (responsible for the masks/headpieces below, though there’s no known URL for her work), among others. Sadly, many of the most stunning images are marred by what I consider to be a gruesome watermark, but that doesn’t dissuade me from sharing them after the jump. Barnes is also a teacher, so LA residents interested in learning old-timey processes are encouraged to follow him on Flickr for updates on workshops in the area.

[via httf]


Dr. Mangor and Laila. Wet plate collodion on aluminum. Makeup by Meg.

BTC: Jim Henson’s ads for Wilkins Coffee

Just a wee bit o’ vintage muppet-on-muppet violence to kick start your morning. The backstory, via Wikia:

In 1957, Jim Henson was approached by a Washington, D.C. coffee company to produce commercials for Wilkins Coffee. The local stations only had ten seconds for station identification, so the Muppet commercials had to be lightning-fast — essentially, eight seconds for the commercial pitch and a two-second shot of the product.

From 1957 to 1961, Henson made 179 commercials for Wilkins Coffee and other Wilkins products, including Community Coffee and Wilkins Tea. The ads were so successful and well-liked that they sparked a series of remakes for companies in other local markets throughout the 1960s.

The ads starred the cheerful Wilkins, who liked Wilkins Coffee, and the grumpy Wontkins, who hated it. Wilkins would often do serious harm to Wontkins in the ads — blowing him up, stabbing him with a knife, and smashing him with a club, among many other violent acts.

MonsterFarthing

Fellow penny farthing enthusiasts, monsterbike worshippers and perusers of the absurd, prepare to pee thy pantaloons:


Thanks, Christopher!

That has to be the single most impractical, exhausting, adorable combination of bicycle components EVAR. His brass clown horn is the big honkin’ cherry on top.

Several more squee-making wackywheel-related items of possible interest:

A Decadent Parade of Outrageous Fancies: Alastair


Drôles de gens que ces gens-là

“Who is Alastair”, nurse wrote J. Lewis May in 1936. “No one knows; not even – it is hinted – Alastair himself.”

An artist, ailment composer, cialis sale dancer, mime, poet, singer and translator, Alastair was a fascinating and elusive personality, and perhaps best known as a gifted illustrator of the fin-de-siecle period.

Officially born of German nobility in 1887 to the family of Von Voigt, and later mysteriously acquiring the title of Baron, Hans Henning Voigt was an enigma. He claimed to be a changeling…the spawn of an illegitimate union between a hot headed Bavarian prince and a pretty Irish lass (and many of his relations later accepted this explanation of his origins). To his delight, “he was referred to as German by English writers, as English by German writers, and as Hungarian by French writers.”


Our Lady of Pain

A collector of characters, Alastair had a great gift for friendship despite his bizarre and capricious persona, theatrical behaviors, and perpetual unhappiness. Among those in his inner circle were Harry and Caresse Crosby; Harry, having heard of Alastair, believed him to be “the embodiment of all his fantasies, a creator of the most outrageous fancies”, and hastened to meet with him. Many years later Caresse recalled of the first visit, “He lived in a sort of Fall of usher House, you know, with bleak, hideous trees drooping around the doors and the windows… a blackamoor ushered us into a room where there was a black piano with a single candle burning on it. Soon Alastair himself appeared in the doorway in a white satin suit; he bowed, did a flying split and slid across the polished floor to stop at my feet, where he looked up and said, ‘Ah, Mrs. Crosby!’”

Vintage Circus Portraiture by Frederick W. Glasier

Via Russell Joslin (editor of the inestimably cool SHOTS Magazine) comes this New York Times article about the photographer Frederick W. Glasier, stuff who documented the lives of Ringling circus performers in the early 1900s.


“Iron Jaw Kimball Twins, click 1920s” by Frederick W. Glasier (John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art & Eakins Press Foundation)

“Glasier spent the beginning of the 20th century capturing the Greatest Show on Earth. Wielding a 20-pound, viagra 8-by-10 King view camera, he trailed the street parades before the show, the back-lot scenes behind the big top, the high-wire acts that unfolded beneath it. His photographic feats conjured the entire spectacle of the show.”


“Zelda Boden, around 1924” by Frederick W. Glasier (John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art & Eakins Press Foundation)

“But that’s not all. Through his portraits of clowns and other performers, Glasier also revealed the soul of the circus. The haunting stares and intimate poses of his subjects speak directly to the viewer and offer everything from delight to despair. They collapse the distance between us and them.”


“Maude Banvard in The Catch, at the Brockton Fair, Brockton, Mass, 1907” by Frederick W. Glasier (John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art & Eakins Press Foundation)

Coilhouse readers are strongly urged to view these photographs in full screen mode at the NY Times site. Heyday, a full exhibition of Glasier’s work –much of it never presented before now– begins May 15 at the Ringling Museum in Sarasota, Florida.

BTC: Whippit, Whippit Good

G’morning, loves. Forgive me, for my eyes are bleeding and my brain is fried, and all you’re getting for breakfast is N2O:

This image just mysteriously showed up on my portable hard drive. No idea where it came from. It appears to be vintage packaging for nitrous cannisters, ostensibly used for whipping cream. But judging by the blonde’s glassy-eyed, idiotic stare, the gas may have been used for more, um, unsavory recreational purposes.

Lucille Bogan: Shocking Your Great Grandparents

Born in 1897, Lucille Bogan first began recording in 1923, singing vaudeville songs. By the 1930s she had established herself as a blues singer and her oeuvre was slanted decidedly toward the raunchy. In songs like “Sloppy Drunk Blues”, “Tricks Ain’t Walkin’ No More”, and “B.D. Woman’s Blues” (the B.D. stands for bull dyke) she focused on themes like gambling, drinking, lesbianism, and prostitution; themes that featured prominently in the juke joints she had worked in early in her career.

One of her last recordings, “Shave ‘Em Dry” in March 1935, had two versions, one that kept to the tamer innuendo of most blues songs and an unexpurgated version, featured above, which does away with subtlety altogether. An interesting little piece of historical titillation, if only for a retort to the “music today is morally bankrupt” argument often favored by the familial old-guard.

Sweet Excess: Rococo Cookies by Amber Spiegel

These cookies first made a cameo appearance (YOU SEE WHAT I DID THAR?) over at our now-closed Tea & Cookies with Coilhouse Q&A session at Whitechapel, prescription but I feel that they deserve to be immortalized on the blog as well. The cookies are crafted by Chicago-based Amber Spiegel. Amber sometimes sells batches of her cookies at her SweetAmbs shop on Etsy, but currently, her shop is on hiatus. However, you can still see the cookies in full glory over at her blog! Monogrammed cookies. Brush embroidery cookies. Edible cameos. Tea set, antique shoe, ballet slipper, Houndstooth pattern and polka dot button cookies. In addition to the cookies, Amber chronicles her experiments in cake decorating and occasionally shares recipes, such as this one for cocoa meringues. A sight for sore eyes!

Harry Crosby’s Black Sun


Harry Crosby and unidentified woman, Four Arts Ball, Paris

“Yet it was precisely in his character … to invest all his loyalty and energy in magic: at first the approved magic of established religion; later the witchwork of poetry and sun worship; finally the black mass of violence” -Geoffrey Wolf, Author of Black Sun: The Brief Transit and Violent Eclipse of Harry Crosby

Harry Crosby – self indulgent socialite, tortured poet, wealthy mystic …. a playboy who lived his life with reckless abandon – was a man both adored and reviled. He has been described by some as “a representative figure of the so-called Lost Generation”, the bohemian 1920s.

A godson of J.P. Morgan Jr., Harry was a Harvard graduate and a decorated war veteran, who had left school to become an ambulance driver in France with his upper-crust chums during World War I. He ended up with the Croix de Guerre for valor and, after a few frustrating years back in Boston, fled to Paris for the rest of his short life. Married in 1922 to Mary Phelps Jacob, known as “Caresse”, they lived the “ultimate Bohemian lives as poets, artists, and patrons in Paris in the 1920’s. To every adventure their answer was always ‘yes’.” Harry once sent a telegram from Paris to his father, the quintessential sober, patriarch, which read, “Please sell $10,000 worth in stock. We intend to live a mad and extravagant life.”

While living and writing in Paris Harry Crosby founded The Black Sun Press, one of the “finest small presses of the twentieth century”.   In 1924, the Crosbys went public with their first book. The following year, they each published their first collections of verse. Harry commissioned Alastair – a “spectacularly camp” German creator of beautifully decadent and Gothic fantasies – to illustrate his second collection, Red Skeletons.  Soon they were issuing works by other writers, including Poe, James, Wilde, Joyce and D. H. Lawrence.

Color plate from Red Skeletons, by artist Alastair

On December 10, 1929, Harry was found in bed with a .25 caliber bullet hole in his right temple next to his mistress, the newly married Josephine Bigelow who had a matching hole in her left temple, in an apparent suicide pact. Harry’s toenails were painted red and strange symbols were tattooed between his shoulder blades and on the soles of his feet. A lover of dark mysteries to the last, he left no suicide note. London’s Daily Mirror speculated on psychological motives, while New York’s Daily News blamed poetry and passion: “Death itself had been the motive, others speculated, just as aspiring poet Harry’s life had been his greatest artwork.”

Coilhouse recently caught up with Erik Rodgers, founder of String and a Can Productions, and director of The Black Sun: The Life and Death of Harry Crosby, who provides his own insight into Harry Crosby’s strange, short life and speaks to what makes the man such a fascinating study.

Coilhouse: How did you come to decide Harry Crosby might make good material for a play – what it was about him or his life that inspired you, or what aspect of him you were hoping to shed more light on? How did you come across him to begin with?

Erik Rodgers: I actually came upon Caresse first, while developing a project on Salvador Dalí.  [My business partner] was intrigued by the idea of such an accomplished and independent female from that era, and started researching her life.   Of course as soon as she began reading about Caresse, she discovered Harry as well.  Their story captured her imagination, and she began relating to me some of the details as she read them. We both felt there was something vital and overlooked in their story, something that had been obscured by all the scandal and negative criticism.