To Gratify Your Curiosity

King Kong (1933), promotional image

Unexpected demands upon my time came up over the past few days, leaving me with little time to blog. However, I'm not complaining; it's better than being sick or pointlessly idle. Nevertheless, we can't let the day pass without celebrating the 80th anniversary of the release of King Kong.

Although it has been remade, spoofed, and copied on more than a few occasions, the classic 1933 movie still provides a compelling story, filled with thrills and adventure. Yeah, the narrative techniques and characterizations do feel antique and awkward, by modern sensibilities, but, if one is willing to suspend disbelief, to turn off the contemporary critical standards, King Kong still makes for good viewing.

Then there is the whole historical appreciation angle, assessing how it influenced subsequent "monster" films and the development of special effects in movie-making. And has there ever been a "Scream Queen" as compelling as Fay Wray? ;-)

Barbie as Fay Wray, caught in Kong's clutches (2002).

Anyways, here's to the Eighth Wonder of the World.

And remember, it was Beauty that killed the Beast.

Morbid and Bizarre

Detail of The Innsmouth Look by Russ Lukich

I recently had the opportunity to visit CoproGallery's current show, "Conjoined III: The Final Chapter," a group exhibit curated by Chet Zar. It was a ghoulishly good time.

I figured that I would share a few images with you all.

H.P. Lovecraft's Hound of Tindalos by Dave Grasso

Yeah, there were a few Lovecraftian-inspired works on display, plenty of occult imagery, and more Pop Surrealistic visions than you'll find with a full flask of adrenochrome. ;-)

Detail of Weird Science by Mike Regan

This exhibit runs until February 9, 2013.

Crucifixion Variations

Detail of Financial Sacrifice American Depress by Ron English

Over half a year has passed since last I wrote about an exhibit at the Corey Helford Gallery in Culver City, which is an inexcusably long time, especially since they have had so many awesome shows on exhibit. Well, I made a trip over to see their current show, Crucifixion, which presents works by a selection of their artists on the topic of sacrifice and sacred iconography. The variations were extremely interesting.

Although the images ranged from the haunting to the humorous, the theme was tightly represented by the artists, each in their own unique way. So, Ron English delivers upon the theme of sacrifice, while keeping true to his distinct imagery of social criticism. Likewise, Buff Monster subverts traditional Christian symbolism with anthropomorphic pink ice cream cones, turning a scene of devotion into one of humor.

Across the board, this show presents the unique vision of the gallery, coherent in theme but so wonderfully diverse in implementation.

Detail of Stigmata by Ray Caesar

I highly recommend paying this show a visit.

A Friend With Gold Is the Best I'm Told

Leprechaun (1993) featuring Warwick Davis

This week marked the 20th anniversary of the cult classic horror movie, Leprechaun, starring Warwick Davis, as the title character, and Jennifer Aniston, as the female protagonist. Although it was an eye-bleedingly terrible film, with dialog and plot so inept that they verge on madness-inducing, it spawned a franchise of six movies, albeit mostly direct-to-video, with talks in the works to launch a theatrical reboot.

Now, there are some notable, even positive, aspects to the Leprechaun movies. First, Warwick Davis really gives the little green sociopath a distinct personality, a style unique to the slasher genre, with a cheesy but creepy mix of humor and malevolence. Another praiseworthy element is the make-up that transforms the rather nonthreatening features of Davis into the otherworldly malice of the Leprechaun. It's an interesting blend. ;-)

And, of course, it's awesome to remember that this was Jennifer Aniston's first significant theatrical role, before Friends, when she became "America's sweetheart" and influenced hairstyles. After starring in this clunker of a movie, Aniston must have found herself a four-leaf clover indeed; other aspiring actresses have found their careers derailed by such a memorable stinker.

Detail from Leprechaun (1993) theatrical poster

While I don't mean to offend the fans of this franchise, I have to say that this movie and those that followed it, even with the quotable lines and Davis' unique charm, were abominable. Really, death by pogo stick, journeying into space, killer go-karts, these movies dredge up the bottom of horrific absurdity. Sometimes I think that they are so bad that they become good. . .

But, no, they're just really, really bad. And, therefore, Leprechaun and his pot o' gold go into my Hall of Shame!!!

Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here

Gustave Dore's illustration of Dante questioning the damned frozen in Lake Cocytus

Last year, we celebrated the birth date of Gustave Dore by looking at his biblical illustrations. Since today is Spooky Sunday, it seems only proper that we look at some of Dore's most haunting works, the images created for Dante's Inferno.

There are plenty of gruesome scenes to select, but my favorites are with Francesca and the Lustful being carrying aloft forever upon a tireless, swirling wind, and with Farinata who pridefully argues among the Heretical in their smoldering sarcophagi, and, of course, upon seeing the frozen bottom layer with the Treacherous trapped in the ice of Lake Cocytus, formed from the endless tears of Satan himself!!! Yeah, there are other horrific situations, loathsome and insidious. But these are my three iconic vistas of Perdition.

Other artists have tried their hand at drawing nightmarish visions from Dante's text, sometimes with great success. However, in terms of breadth and consistency, nobody beats Dore in envisioning the words. He makes Hell take shape.

Francesca da Rimini and Paolo Malatesta, tossed endlessly by the gusts of Lust

Personally, I've never been a Dante enthusiast, but looking at Dore's work makes me want to give the Divine Comedy another read, especially Paradiso, which I have only read once, back in my college years, when I thought it was so boring as to make my eyes blur with tedium. Yeah, I hate rereading works, but sometimes our perspectives become so changed as to make the text relate to us anew.

Dying for Chocolate

Chocolate skeleton on a chocolate electric chair at Jean-Philippe Patisserie at the Bellagio


The previous two posts were based on a daily theme, Friday Flowers and Silly Saturday. So, I began to wonder about about today's theme. Then, I remembered that Sunday already has a topic, Spooky Sunday!!! Yeah, it's been a while since I did one of those posts, but they've always been popular with the readers.

So, I figure that we can dust off the concept and put it back into use, especially for Halloween.

Moreover, I have some photos from my tip to Las Vegas that I would like to share with you all that fit the theme. At the Jean-Philippe Patisseries at the Bellagio and the Aria, there were plenty of Halloween-inspired chocolate sculptures to admire and desire. Yum!!!

This trapped ghoul hasn't realized that it can eat its way out of the chocolate coffin.


Although I normally focus on more "highbrow" forms of sculpture, these sweet constructs were wonderfully crafted. From candy Thriller zombies and Michael Jackson to chocolate Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King, there were plenty of pop culture Halloween icons formed out of sugary materials. But I was more interested in the large scale works.

For instance, the Electric Chair Skeleton is made of 35 kg white chocolate, 30kg dark chocolate, 1.5kg rolling fondant, and took two people 70 hours to create!!! That's some impressive chocolatier work.

Chocolate Pumpkins and tombstones


Anyways, let's look at a few more photos and listen to a couple tunes. And let's welcome Spooky Sunday back into our weekly schedule. ;-)

Sharp Teeth, Bite!!!

Crocodile head from an Iatmul spirit canoe (Papua New Guinea, 20th c.)

It's been a while since I've visited the Bowers Museum, down in Santa Ana. I decided to remedy the situation with a few hours of strolling through the "Spirits and Headhunters: Art of the Pacific Islands" exhibition. I had seen this show previously, but it's an excellent exhibit, well worth revisiting.

I didn't have enough time to check out the various gold-related shows. So, I imagine that I'll be heading back there sometime soon.

Human tooth necklace (Vuasagale) from Fiji, 18-19th c.

But, really, with Fire Dance masks, spirit objects, diverse weaponry, and numerous gruesome works, I could spend the whole day looking at the Pacific Island exhibition.

Isle of the Dead

Detail of Island of the Dead III (1883) by Arnold Bocklin


Sergei Rachmaninoff was born on April 1, 1873.

I'm not the biggest fan of his work, but there are some memorable compositions. My favorite piece is Isle of the Dead, Op.29, a symphonic poem written in 1908. It captures the late Romantic aesthetic perfectly, with heavy orchestral sounds and a focus on the Sublime.

In my youth, I was very ambivalent about Rachmaninoff. Sometimes I would dismiss his music as "schlock" or "overweight and overwrought" or some over such insult, but, upon hearing Isle of the Dead, I noticed the artistry in the thickness of sound, the lyricism that can only emerge from lush orchestrations.

I can't say that it converted me into an enthusiast, but I looked upon his work anew, appreciating the unique vision for its own values, for its own approach to art.

So, take a mental trip on Charon's ferry across the River Styx. But don't drink of the River Lethe; you will want to remember this music. ;-)

Biomechanical Nightmares

Detail of Trumpets of Jericho by H.R. Giger

Although I'm fond of dark, haunting imagery, I've never found the work of H.R. Giger appealing. There's too much authentic nihilism and a pervasive feeling of ill-will, especially towards women, to become the objects of my admiration. To be blunt, they feel malevolent.

Now, I can certainly admire the creativity and talent that went into designing such monstrosities. For all of its luridly depraved and diabolic content, Giger's work stands out as visionary masterpieces, giving form to unthinkable perdition, birthing alien horrors to stalk our nightmares. Only Hieronymous Bosch has created such powerful hellscapes.

I really don't like the subject matter, but I must admire the artistry.

Detail of The Alien by H.R. Giger

So, in honor of Giger's birthday, born in 1940, let's look at some of his works.

Modern Prometheus

Detail of Monster of Frankenstein #1 cover art (1973) by Mike Ploog

Published on January 1, 1818, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus founded two genres of fiction dear to my heart, Horror and Science Fiction. Certainly, there are older instances that could claim the credit, but Shelley's novel isn't merely a "scary tale" or "speculative" fiction; it gets to the philosophical and aesthetic premises that define each of these genres.

As regards Horror, the exploration of transgression, the danger of human genius removed from moral concern, and the hubris of finite humanity imposing its limited awareness upon a Nature that surpasses both comprehension and control, these are themes and topics that characterize the best of the genre since Frankenstein.

For Science Fiction, the intellectual quandaries posed by the novel, such as the concept of "person" or the ethical concerns raised by pressing into uncharted realms of technology, have become staples of speculative fiction. No "Artificial Intelligence" story can be told without being compared to the progenitor of the genre.

Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's Monster (1931)

Therefore, we can't let this day pass by without celebrating this literary treasure:

"I will pioneer a new way, explore unknown powers, and unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation."

Powerful stuff!!!

Danse Macabre

Dance of Death (1493) by Michael Wolgemut


October 9, 1835 is the birth date of Camille Saint-Saens.

This isn't a "Classical Music" blog, but I was thinking of sneaking in a little Spooky Sunday fun for an early October evening. One of Saint-Saens' most famous pieces is the Danse Macabre. This tone poem is based on a story in which Death appears at midnight every Halloween and summons up the dead from their graves. To the sound of Death's violin, they dance until sunrise. Then they return into the earth and wait for another year to pass so that they can enjoy another night of liberating dance.

In late medieval lore, the danse macabre was symbolic of the universality of death. Regardless of your age, wealth, social status, or personal talents, the Reaper was always at your side. Death was waiting for all mortals. And so Life was nothing but a dance on the way to the grave.

Morbid stuff!!!

Dance of the Dolls (2011) by Anthony Clarkson

But I find the imagery fascinating. Dancing is such vigorous and life-affirming activity that the combination with Death creates a transgressive thrill. Lifeless things should not be dancing. And dancers should not be dead.

Peddlers of Death

Detail from Peddlers of Death by David Stoupakis

I've been meaning to write a glowing review about the current exhibit of David Stoupakis' and Tom Bagshaw's work at the Corey Helford Gallery in Culver City. Since it's closing on August 27, I figured it was now or never. So although there is only one week left for this show, I think it is excellent enough to merit my writing time and your viewing time.

I've got a fascination with morbid topics, such as death, ghosts, horror stories, and most sorts of Gothic styling. Both of the artists on exhibit deliver on the dark imagery, albeit in different manners. David Stoupakis presents a haunting set of serious imagery in his show "Walking Within These Shadows" in which ghostly young women or girls drift wraithlike within a gloom-filled, Stygian environment. These images hint at an underlying narrative of death and sorrow.



The Choice by David Stoupakis


The milky eyes and pale flesh of his figures imbue even the robust images with an enervating sensation of undeath. They are animated by a mysterious, umbral energy.

Bad Moon Rising

John Landis directed An American Werewolf in London, released on August 21, 1981.

Well, we have a nice cinema note to start our Spooky Sunday. Thirty years ago, An American Werewolf in London was released. Directed by John Landis, this horror comedy went on to become a box office hit and cult classic.

Werewolf films are notably horrible, but not in a good way. In general, they fail in terms of production quality and lack of talent. However, by taking these failures as a given and approaching the subject with humor, Landis creates a fun and exciting story. This movie is one of the few werewolf films that I can enjoy watching.

This movie had such an impact that Michael Jackson had Landis direct the Thriller video, including a classic werewolf bit.



Michael Jackson transforming into a werewolf in Thriller (1983)


Fun stuff!!!

Ominous Bird of Yore

The Raven by Edouard Manet (1875)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore —
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
            Only this and nothing more."

That's the opening stanza to Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven", first published in 1845. Over the past few weeks, I've been discussing ghost stories. This poem isn't exactly a ghost story, but it plays off a related trope, the obsessive sorrow of the bereaved turning into madness. Although the story holds no supernatural occurrences, the protagonist is still "haunted" by their memory and desire for the departed. Later authors, such as Henry James or Edith Wharton, will follow in Poe's footsteps addressing this trope in their own style.



The Raven by John Tenniel (1858)


I'm a big fan of Poe's work. It's hard to say which of his works is my favorite. But "The Raven" is certainly a contender. ;-)

Midnight, the Stars and You

Overlook Hotel, July 4th Ball, 1921 (The Shining)

We've discussed haunted houses, but let's turn our attention to hotels. Although residency is usually brief, hotels seem to be ghost magnets. This reputation carries through into the ghostly fiction. In my estimation the best Haunted Hotel story is the cinematic adaptation of The Shining by Stephen King, directed by Stanley Kubrick.

The numerous ghosts, the long corridors, the dark history, these all combine to create a crowded and varied feel to the haunting that couldn't be matched by a normal domicile. It is as if the Overlook Hotel processes damnation in volume, skimming off the numerous guests who pass through its malign doors.



Red rum?! What could that mean?


Twin child ghosts, elevators full of blood, a snowy hedge maze, and haunting music, this movie has all the bases covered. ;-)

Unfortunate Hazards of the Road

The Phantom Coach (Derived from an illustration by Paul Lowe)

Since the theme for the week is bad happenings on the road, we can discuss a related horror trope. Travel is not an easy undertaking in the world of classic ghost stories. When you find yourself in a strange environment, all sorts of weird things might come across your path. And such is the case with our story tonight, Amelia B. Edwards' Phantom Coach, written in 1864.

Our protagonist finds himself lost on the British moors during a snowy night. He is desperate to return to his young wife and, after a sequence of foreshadowing incidents, he encounters a coach. Things are not as they seem. ;-)



Amelia B. Edwards


Here's my favorite part:

There could be no doubt, however, of the fact, for the lamps grew larger and brighter every moment, and I even fancied I could already see the dark outline of the carriage between them. It was coming up very fast, and quite noiselessly, the snow being nearly a foot deep under the wheels.

And now the body of the vehicle became distinctly visible behind the lamps. It looked strangely lofty. A sudden suspicion flashed upon me. Was it possible that I had passed the cross-roads in the dark without observing the sign-post, and could this be the very coach which I had come to meet?

Noooo!!!!!

The Surrounding Gloom

The Empty House

This week we'll look at that old standard of horror, the haunted house.

Algernon Blackwood wrote "The Empty House" in 1906. By this date, spending time within a "domicile of dread" was featured in countless ghost stories. For instance, J. Sheridan LeFanu's "An Account of Some Strange Disturbances in Aungier Street" was published in 1853 and was considered such an exemplar of the type that Bram Stoker used it as direct inspiration for his story, "The Judge's House", in 1891. Even last week's subject, M.R. James, tried his hand at this well-worn trope in "Lost Hearts", written in 1895, albeit with his signature antiquarian twists.

So, what makes "The Empty House" worthy of our consideration? First, it is an excellent read. Second, it is the iconic "It'll be a Thrill" haunted house story, in which the characters who experience the haunting are neither unknowingly residing in the accursed place nor are they conducting a "scientific" study. They are there purely for the thrilling experience. As such, it is the antecedent to many of our contemporary "ghost stories" in which we watch, via night vision cameras, some silly people freak out in a "haunted" location for our entertainment.

Third, in most haunted house stories prior to "The Empty House", the haunting is about a location in which a ghost resides. Consider other monster types and their lairs. In fairy tales, a bridge may have a troll lurking beneath it or a cave may house a dragon. Neither the bridge nor the cave are inherently terrible; it is the monster associated with them that makes the location baneful. And so it is with the haunted house. But "The Empty House" alters the paradigm. Yes, there are ghosts present in the house, but their malevolent and unnatural presence has tainted the essence of the location. Whether or not the ghosts are present, the House itself is a monster.



Algernon Blackwood


Consider this passage:

Stealthily, walking on tip-toe and shading the candle lest it should betray their presence through the shutterless windows, they went first into the big dining-room. There was not a stick of furniture to be seen. Bare walls, ugly mantel-pieces and empty grates stared at them. Everything, they felt, resented their intrusion, watching them, as it were, with veiled eyes; whispers followed them; shadows flitted noiselessly to right and left; something seemed ever at their back, watching, waiting an opportunity to do them injury. There was the inevitable sense that operations which went on when the room was empty had been temporarily suspended till they were well out of the way again. The whole dark interior of the old building seemed to become a malignant Presence that rose up, warning them to desist and mind their own business; every moment the strain on the nerves increased.

Quis Est Iste Qui Venit

Illustration by James Bryde (1904)

This is our first Spooky Sunday post. Tonight we'll be featuring one of my favorite ghost stories by one of my favorite ghost story writers, "Oh, Whistle And I'll Come, My Lad" by M. R. James. Written in 1904, this is a story of an amateur antiquarian discovering an "accursed" item that brings the horrific attention of a supernatural entity. This basic plot line has gone on to become a staple of the Horror genre, but I feel that James does it first and best.

It's not about gore or thrills that make this story stand out. In fact, these elements that so dominate modern Horror are hardly present at all. Rather, it is the thick atmosphere of dread. Very little gets described or explained, but James suggests and hints at a world of terror, just beyond the reader's ability to fully comprehend. This story leaves an impression of the malevolent dead, waiting to prey upon the hapless and helpless living when the unwritten rules that separate the waking world from the Underworld are accidentally transgressed.



Montague Rhodes James


Here is my favorite part of story:

He blew tentatively and stopped suddenly, startled and yet pleased at the note he had elicited. It had a quality of infinite distance in it, and, soft as it was, he somehow felt it must be audible for miles round. It was a sound, too, that seemed to have the power (which many scents possess) of forming pictures in the brain. He saw quite clearly for a moment a vision of a wide, dark expanse at night, with a fresh wind blowing and in the midst a lonely figure - how employed, he could not tell. Perhaps he would have seen more had not the picture been broken by the sudden surge of a gust of wind against his casement, so sudden that it made him look up, just in time to see the white glint of a sea-bird's wing somewhere outside the dark panes.

I highly recommend reading the whole story yourself.