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vampires

October 7th 2009 06:35

“Ahhh, the children of the night, what sweet music they make …”

I’ve been floating in the wilderness myself of late. Please pardon my absence, I have no excuse but one of abject self-indulgence and inherent laziness. I was a prisoner of my own nightmares, where vampires had me under their hypnotic control, I could do nothing, only whimper in the darkness, gingerly finger at my throbbing neck where two holes had been punctured into my pallid flesh, and at regular intervals through the night their warm lips would press against my skin, and their cold needle-sharp fangs would sink back in causing me to black out and dream of falling into the abyss … and loving it.

I’m such a drama queen, I know, clutching at straws, offering up such feeble excuses for my slack blog attendance. But enough, I say! There’s no need for half-assed explanations, florid reasoning, tall stories, half-truths, or blatant lies. I’m striking back with the force of a stake to the heart! Here there by bloodsuckers! And sexy ones too, ‘cos that’s just the type of provocative guy I am.

Vampires, vampires everywhere and oh, the day did shrink, vampires, vampires everywhere, and all that blood to drink! That was my pale reference to Coleridge. I should really be playing with the prose of Bram Stoker methinks, but he’s untouchable.

Vampires are all the rage right now. Cinema and television are bleeding the creatures dry as a bone. But then again, vampirism has been mesmerising readers of the supernatural and horror movie lovers for over a hundred years, whilst the mythology of vampires stretches back centuries. My favourite vampire movie might be The Hunger, with that wonderfully sexy and dangerous opening scene set to the Bauhaus classic Bela Lugosi’s Dead, but perhaps it’s the raucous comedy A French Vampire in America that features delectable Anne Parillaud strutting around in the nude and sinking her fangs into the mob.

Artists love to play with the conceptual image of the vampire. They exude such a monstrous sensuality, a dark eroticism, a dangerous and elusive air of fetid charm and world-weariness. Vampires are the perfect date; the zipless fuck, as Erica Jong coined.

I’ve gathered together my own playground for the children of the night. Vampires never go out of style; they simply slide into the shadows and sheath their fangs back inside their gums. So here’s my selection of phantasical vamp artwork from around the world.

All these seductively evil creatures! My favourites being Midnight Roses, the dredlocked vamp, the redheaded vamp, Queen of Vampires (who looks curiously like Brooke Satchwell), that ferocious looking female dripping wet and about to lunge, and the bat-winged man with head hung low. Now if you'll excuse me, I can see the first rays of dawn fast approaching ... and a thirst beginning to quell deep within me.

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Posted By: Raoul Duke - Category: art

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cartoon characters

November 22nd 2007 04:34

Cartoons are a part of all of our lives. Legendary cartoon characters date back to the end of the roaring 20s, such as Popeye and Mickey Mouse. Other Classic Disney characters such as Goofy and Donald Duck followed in the early 30s. Even now there are so many new cartoon characters appearing on television and in the movies it’s impossible to keep up.

I grew up with many of the famous Warner Brothers and Hanna-Barbara cartoons; Tom & Jerry, The Flintstones, Looney Tunes, and Hong Kong Phooey were frequently watched after school shows. I also had an obsession with the Japanese show Battle of the Planets featuring G-Force and the villian Zoltar, although it was dubbed in American voices, so as an impressionable boy I had no idea it was an early Asian Anime creation, all I knew was a had a crush on Princess and pretended I was the genetically-created Keyop (“Brrrr-toot-toot!”).

On Sunday afternoons there was an odd, and unintentionally creepy, cartoon called Clutch Cargo, which featured a unique optical technique called Synchro-Vox, which enabled the animators to superimpose real human mouths onto the faces of the cartoon characters, who were often motionless. It was this special effect which kinda creeped me out as a boy, as well as the use of intense cliffhanger endings to the five-minute long episodes.

Another comic strip which I used to altogether strange was Rupert the Bear. He’d feature as one of the syndicated cartoon strips, always in the middle of some bizarre caper or adventure meeting some kooky character, his trademark scarf blowing in the breeze. I swear the creator of Rupert was on something.

As I moved through puberty my affections for G-Force’s Princess moved to Archie comics’ Veronica Lodge. I harboured a secret infatuation for the rich-bitch leggy brunette, and felt jealous of Archie, especially since he could have Betty White any day, and leave Ronnie for me. It amuses me that spunky Sydney-based pop-rockers The Veronicas named themselves after Ms. Lodge.

Of the print variety I’ve been a long time fan of Kiwi creation Footrot Flats, especially The Dog. I liked Horse too, the battle-scarred tomcat. But my personal favourite has been the undeniable brilliance of Calvin & Hobbes; the misadventures of an intensely imaginative young boy and his opinionated stuffed tiger.

As an adult I was seduced by the late night black comedy of Dr. Katz, professional therapist and the extraordinary Ren & Stimpy show; there hasn’t been another cartoon duo like them; outlandish, subversive, scatological adult humour in the guise of an irreverent madcap children’s domestic cartoon. Outrageous entertainment!

Still, there’s a handful of cartoon characters I still champion, ever since my youth; those underdogs, always suffering at the hands of Murphy’s Law, or their own stupidity, but possessing more personality chutzpah, witty perspective, and dark sardonic edge than South Park could ever hope to muster (that’s right, I’m not a fan of Matt Stone & Trey Parker’s creation, never have been, never will). I’m talking about Sylvester the Cat, Daffy Duck, and all-time favourite, Wile E. Coyote.

Dr. Katz with his son Ben and his receptionist Laura

So many favourites here, so many fond memories! From the burger lovin' nonchalance of Jughead and Wimpy to the surrealism of Samurai Jack. But if I had to nail it down to a Top Three (oooh, I just thought of another cartoon character I enjoyed; Top Cat!), it would have to be: Wile E., The Pink Panther, and, um, errrrr, dang it, Sylvester, no, wait, Calvin & Hobbes! But wait, I've completely forgotten Donald Duck! Ooops! Sorry Donald! I do love ya!

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sandcastles

November 2nd 2007 02:47

“… and so castles made of sand, fall in the sea, eventually,” sang Jimi Hendrix. And he was eloquent in his observation of love and aspiration.

We’ve all built a sandcastle of three in our lives. Some of us still do. Some of us have made it a passion entering competitions around the world. There is something intrinsically endearing about the fragility of a sandcastle that makes the process of building it, so much more satisfying than marveling at the finished product.

There’s also something monumentally upsetting about having your sandcastle trampled on by some spiteful or jealous kid who’s got a smaller shovel than you.

The art of sandcastles encompasses a joy of the beach, an eye for design, a love of sunshine and a resignation to the surf. There’s also the shared appreciation of onlookers.

Although the post is headed “sandcastles” I’ve included sand sculpture as well, although I’ve tried to keep the sand sculptures beach-bound. Some of these creations are quite stunning.

So what pray tell is the best sand to work with? What is the secret to the level of moisture in the sand? And what is the record for the tallest sandcastle?

Here by thy sandcastles, tread carefully, and don't forget to apply sunblock, you could be here awhile.

Some people have got far too much time on their hands! But hey, I'm impressed!! Surely the bigger the sandcastle the more upset when it comes down? My favourites here are the last one, man that is one mother of a sandcastle! The black humourist in me finds the 9/11 depiction rather amusing. I love the huge head buried in the sand, and the dragon eating the man. But my ultimate fave is the hands covering the head. Some fine sandiwork there indeed!

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statues

October 10th 2007 02:20

There’s an elegance and majesty about statues that eludes other art forms; the silent stare, the brooding gaze, the deliberate pose, the triumphant stature. And yet, there is also a poignancy as well, even a melancholy.

Usually a statue commemorates a famous person’s life or an historical event. Other statues are merely an artistic statement of someone’s self-importance, while others are constructed for the sheer amusement of city park visitors. Who will ever forget the travesty of “art” that was the massive statue of Michael Jackson which traveled down the Thames on a barge to launch his greatest hits package HIStory?

So where does a statue start and where does it end? Does a giant stone or marble head warrant being called a statue? Are the crumbling torso remains of some Greek deity still a statue? Are the waxwork figures at Madam Tussauds regarded as statues?

Often the most awesome statues are those which depict a God or Goddess, simply because their immortality is recognized and cemented by the hard durability of the material in which the statue has been carved. The bigger the statue the bigger the awe, although it must be said the MJ pop-art statue provided awe of a more revolting nature.

There’s a famous surrealist film from the 30s called Un Chien Andalou made by filmmaker Luis Bunuel and artist Salvador Dali that depicts a fetish; statuephilia: sexual gratification from the kissing and fondling of a statue. In the film a woman is sucking the statue’s toe. Curious, but then, humankind is a most bizarre creature, and the inherent narcissism of creating statues (figures created in one’s own image) is not wholly surprising. Humankind pursues the anomaly of war and art; the destruction of that which is precious and the creation of that which is precious.

Along with rock wall painting and sculpture, statues are one of the oldest forms of artistic expression. Here is a selection of what tickles my statuesque fancy:

Magnificent, aren't they? All smooth and hard and mysterious and arcane and powerful and beautiful. I'd have to say my favourite of these are the Easter Island heads, the mystery behind them is fascinating. As for the man with the babies ... strange indeed.

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sculptures

October 8th 2007 05:00

“Sculpture is the art of the hole and the lump”, a quote from legendary sculptor and artist Auguste Rodin. I have it on a t-shirt of mine, which my lover brought back from the National Art Gallery in Canberra.

Sculpture has also fascinated me. The reduction of one thing to create another: marble, stone, wood, metal, paper, cloth. From famous figurines to expressionist abstraction, sculpture is in many ways the ultimate piece of motionless art; three dimensional, with texture and true form.

My lover often mentions how awe inspiring it was to be in the presence of Michelangelo’s sculpture statue of David. Apparently the reason why his tackle is smaller than average, is because of the way you are meant to view the sculpture, which is looking up at it. Often it is photographed straight on, which diminishes the perspective. Other theories have something to do with fear and natural shrinkage, keeping in mind David is about to go battle the mighty Goliath.

There’s a rustic, raw charm I find to a sculptor’s studio. The different sculptures in various stages, fragments and chips of marble on the floor, metal wires forming some strange creature’s skeleton, a log of wood stripped of bark.

And then there’s the size, with some sculptures being tiny and others monstrous.

I can’t think of anything else to say about sculpture. My brain is a little scrambled. I was trying to chisel something interesting, but the serotonin-sapped wake of the weekend is weighing down upon me like a block of sandstone.

Instead I’m let the sculptures speak for themselves. They’ve got voices. Let them be heard.

I love the whalebone polar bear sculpture, because polar bears are my favourite animal. I love the big open marble palm. I love the sand sculpture of all the people. the Lego one is kinda macabre, but it reminds me of my youth, as I was heavily into Lego construction.

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Posted By: Raoul Duke - Category: art

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demons

October 5th 2007 02:54

In religion, folklore, and mythology a demon (or daemon, from the Greek) is a supernatural being that has generally been described as a malevolent spirit, and in Christian terms it is generally understood as a Fallen angel, formerly of God. The word the demon, like angel, is a word that has been thrown around for centuries. Both are potent images, but, for some reason the imagery of demons tends to be more expressive and more imaginative than the imagery surrounding angels.

According to the Colombia Electronic Encyclopedia a demon is a “supernatural being, generally malevolent in character. In general, the more civilized pagan societies came to consider demons as powerful, supernatural beings who lacked the dignity of gods and who, depending on the circumstance, might be either benevolent or malevolent in their dealings with men. Some demons, like the Greek Pan, were nature spirits; others were guardians of the home or fields or watchers over travelers; still others were spirits of disease and insanity or dream spirits. Some demons were considered to be intermediaries between men and the gods.
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faeries

October 2nd 2007 23:28

Faerie folk, or the fae, are an ancient race of people who lived in the British Isles long before the Celts or the Anglo-Saxons arrived. They are believed to have descended from the Tuatha De Danann (the tribe of the goddess Dana), a magickal race who flew into Ireland in ships descending from the clouds on Beltane (Gaelic holiday celebrated around May 1st). They came from four great magickal cities: Falias, Gorias, Finias and Murias, and brought with them four great treasures; the Lia Fail (Stone of Destiny), the sword of Lugh, a magic spear, and the cauldron of the Dagda.

It was from these cities that the Tuatha De Dananns learned all their knowledge, skills and magick. Indeed the De Dananns were said to be unmatched in their knowledge and beauty. From them, came the vast majority of Gods and Goddesses of the Irish Pantheon

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abstract art

September 17th 2007 00:46

I studied art at high school. But I lost interest in pursuing it into the tertiary stages because of the disillusionment I suffered when I got a bad mark in my second to last year after working very hard on my portfolio. I was gutted. There were even footprints across the artwork where the markers had walked across the folder (apparently the students portfolios filled the entire gymnasium floor ... yeah whatever).

I lost respect for the system following that disastrous year (the last year of internal assessment at my high school). I ended up having to sit exams at the local university designed to fail you. I passed and gave the system the finger. But my passion for producing art had been irreparably damaged

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tattoos

September 12th 2007 01:36

I’ve been meaning to get a tattoo for more than a decade. I just can’t settle on an image or design that appeals to me enough that I will feel it warrants being permanently inked into my body. I’m not into having something scribed; words are too dangerous, too fickle, and too precise. Funny, I know, coming from a writer.

I’ve always been fascinated by tattoos. Novelist Angela Carter had a quote that said something along the lines of “Tattooing is the first of the apocalyptic arts, for its materials are flesh and blood.” It ended up being inspiration to a supernatural Gothic erotic thriller that I wrote a few years back

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masks

August 20th 2007 03:53

The mask is the ultimate stylish façade. Although they are most commonly recognized at parties and carnivals, they have a deeper religious and social significance, being concerned with funeral customs, fertility rites, or even curing sickness.

In funeral ceremonies masked dancers may seek to drive the soul of the deceased into the spirit world, where it will not harm the living. Burial masks are sometimes placed on the face of a corpse either to protect the deceased from evil spirits or, as in Egypt, to guide the dead person's spirit to its home in the afterlife

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