Showing posts with label Ed Gein. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ed Gein. Show all posts

Monday, May 14, 2012

Pretty Pictures of Terrifying Things: Artist Kris Kuksi Melds the Horrific and the Political in a Stunning Three Dimensional Apocalyptic Vision


You've seen the Churchtank.  Everyone's seen the Churchtank.  It made its social media rounds a few months ago, and knocked me off my pins, as it was the perfect combination of ungodly (pardon the pun) talent and biting sociopolitical commentary in a post-NeoCon age.  I had no idea the Churchtank was birthed by Kris Kuksi.


Prior to this - in November of 2010, back when I was old and this blog was young, and I was still posting more about the cosmic side of "cosmic horror" rather than annoying the TC readership with self serving writing updates (also know as "The Golden Age of The Cosmicomicon" to many disgruntled head shakers) - I ripped a piece of art from the 'net to use in a blog about dark matter and finally being able to see the Universe as it really is and was.  The work that I included was a wide shot of what you see below, and even though I attributed it to the the artist, I still had no idea who or what Kris Kuksi was all about.


Well, I now know who Kris Kuksi is and what this guy does, thanks to Ives, who had her mind blown last week, and then blew mine (an official call to kindly keep your mind out of the gutter, pervos) when I got home.  This is Hieronymus Bosch meets Steampunk meets The End of Everything.  This is gathered object, mixed material sculpture on a scale I never thought possible.  Sci-fi hellscapes conjured by the worst acid trip of all time, built in Ed Gein's living room.  This is waking Nightmare personified, with a enlightened lesson on human nature, politics, and religion (and the unhealthy alliance of the three) folded inside.  This is horror and majesty at its most vivid and visceral.

And because now I know, I want all of YOU to know, as I was always taught to share.  So, behold, the monstrous, terrifying, beautiful, extraordinarily badass sculptural art of Mr. Kris Kuksi.









Because I'm a slacker, and more importantly a lad who knows his place in the pecking order in the Dark Fantasy Collective, I'll let a better known Name write this sucker for me:
“A post-industrial Rococo master, Kris Kuksi obsessively arranges characters and architecture in asymmetric compositions with an exquisite sense of drama. Instead of stones and shells he uses screaming plastic soldiers, miniature engine blocks, towering spires and assorted debris to form his landscapes.

The political, spiritual and material conflict within these shrines is enacted under the calm gaze of remote deities and august statuary. Kuksi manages to evoke, at once, a sanctum and a mausoleum for our suffocated spirit.” - Guillermo del Toro

Kuksi's biography:
Born March 2, 1973, in Springfield Missouri and growing up in neighboring Kansas, Kris spent his youth in rural seclusion and isolation along with a blue-collar, working mother, two significantly older brothers, and an absent father. Open country, sparse trees, and alcoholic stepfather, all paving the way for an individual saturated in imagination and introversion. His propensity for the unusual has been a constant since childhood, a lifelong fascination that lent itself to his macabre art later in life. The grotesque to him, as it seemed, was beautiful.

Kris Kuksi garners recognition and acclaim for the intricate sculptures that result from his unique and meticulous technique. A process that requires countless hours to assemble, collect, manipulate, cut, and re-shape thousands of individual parts, finally uniting them into an orchestral-like seamless cohesion that defines the historical rise and fall of civilization and envisions the possible future(s) of humanity. Each sculpture embodies the trademarks of his philosophy and practice, while serving as a testament to the multifaceted nature of perception – From timeless iconic references of Gods and Goddess, to challenging ideas of organized religion and morality, to the struggle to understand, and bend, the limits of mortality. None is complete without a final and brilliant touch of satire and rebuke all conceived in the aesthetic essence of the Baroque fused with the modern day industrial world.

In personal reflection, Kris feels that in the world today much of mankind is oftentimes frivolous and fragile, being driven primarily by greed and materialism. He hopes that his art exposes the fallacies of Man, unveiling a new level of awareness to the viewer. His work has received several awards and prizes and has been featured in over 100 exhibitions in galleries and museums worldwide including the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery. Kris’ art can also be seen in a number of international art magazines, book covers and theatrical posters. Kris’ art is featured in both public and private collections in the United States, Europe, and Australia that include individuals such as Mark Parker (Nike CEO), Kay Alden (three time Emmy award winning writer for Young and the Restless & Bold and the Beautiful), Fred Durst (musician, and film director), Chris Weitz (movie director The Golden Compass & Twilight: New Moon) Guillermo del Toro (movie director Pan’s Labyrinth & Hell Boy 2) and Robin Williams (Academy Award and Golden Globe winning actor).

As a staunch Lovecraftian, J.S. Bach Head, and part-time Purple Prosist, I worship at the sumptuous, fetid, overladen alter of Baroque and Rococo (as my triple adjective usage suggests).  Naturally, Kuksi's explosive, densely packed art (which is more than just sculpture, but also paintings and drawings) scratches me right where I itch, from the inside out.

I hope, gentle reader, he provides a spiritual backscratcher to you as well.
Kuksi, dwarfing us

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Music Review: Goatfisted Writhes from the Black Metal Abyss with Self Titled Album

Wisconsin has given us much in the way of unimaginable horror and violence that rises above your garden variety shooting spree or machete decapitation.

Disgruntled mama's boy Ed Gein turned townies into furniture on his farm in Plainfield.  Necro playboy Jeffrey Dahmer was born in West Allis, moving shop to the city Schlitz built to become the Milwaukee Monster.  Hell, Wisconsin spawns homicidal terror at such a clip they even wrote a book about it.

But that's just human murder and mayhem.  The crass stuff of mortals.  A deeper darkness born amid cold, alien chaos also lurks under the facade of quaint dairies and rolling fields, as Wisconsin is also ground zero of Arkham House, located in the unlikely village of Sauk City.  Founded by August Dertleth, the enterprising, bull necked confidante of one Howard Phillips Lovecraft, Arkham House played a leading role in rescuing the mind splitting cosmic horror of Lovecraft's writings from the dust bin of the Pulp Age.

Approximately 85.9 miles from Sauk City and Arkham House HQ, up trusty US 151, is the picturesque hamlet of Fond du Lac, nestled on the sleepy shores of Lake Winnebago.  This is a true bedroom community, in every sense.  They even have a cute little lighthouse.  But, as with much in this state, the cheery outer glow is all a facade, as Fond du Lac is contributing its own legacy to Wisconsin-born horror and inescapable darkness, as Fond du Lac is the home of Goatfisted, a Black Metal band bending knee and Ernie Ball strings to the writings and Mythos of H.P. Lovecraft.

Goatfisted's self-titled, debut album is a growling, crunching, 8-song dirge to the hopes of humanity in a universe proven to be cold and malevolent.  This is D-tuned choir music for a mass blacker than anything birthed within the time of man.  This is the metal soundtrack to the very last All Hallows' Eve.  This is horror metal with a distinguished edge befitting the alienated gentleman of Providence who inspired it.

From band member monikers - Shogtha (vocals), Jhatanth (chief guitarist/bassist), Ren-Sothoth (drums, extra vocals), and Geth-Omog (guitar) - to lyrics inspired by the stories, themes, and characters of HPL, Goatfisted are true dyed-in-the-woolen-robe Lovecraftians, fusing dark cosmicism and indescribable horrors with thick, thudding guitars, hammer double bass drums, occasional (just enough) keyboards, and dynamic vocals into a fantastic brew of mausoleum metal.  It's heavy, but balanced, technical without getting all Musicians Institute arpeggio wonky.  And the lyrics are quite interesting and well crafted, demanding a line by line follow-along while the album plays.

The cover materials and art are top shelf, and engineer John Jones' deft production is surprisingly slick, but not overly so...  In short, this album - this musical foursome in general - are record-store ready.  As a music journalist three lives ago, I spent a decade listening to all manner of local band releases, from EPs to full length, full studio affairs purchased with mommy's credit cards.  While I have no idea how long ago Goatfisted belched into being, the band already sounds like a million fucking bucks.  Maybe their mommy's have credit cards, too.  Or maybe they're just a talented, polished band, inspired by the Unnameable to record the hugely Listenable.

I enjoyed all 8 of the pieces, but some that stood out were "Black Stone Harvest," featuring nice, ribeye fat riffs, joined at the hip with just an echo of creepy organ music; "The Calling," which has some chugging guitar that moved the lower end of my spine back into alignment; and "His Return and Ascension," the song destined to be played by the Deep One house band at Cthulhu's eventual (re)birthday party.

"Dominion" is the last song on the album, and Goatfisted's coup d' grace. It shows a maturity and bare chested brass from the opening lines, as Shogtha spits out the measured promise, "The reclamation of soil and sea.  As priest of Ancients, thou shall harken to me."  As gritty as it is cosmic, like an artistic punch into the solar plexus.  Goatfisted wants to open your eyes to new vistas, while pouring thunder into your ears to clue you in on what's coming, what has always been... 

While listening to the album last night, my wife - whose musical taste ranges from Wu Tang to Slayer - walked into the office, raised her eyebrows and declared, "That fucking rocks."  I just smiled, and thought to myself that if you're a Black Metal band, and a beautiful woman digs your sound, nothing this side of the Outer God Apocalypse can stop you.

Goatfisted, for the win.