The weird, the wonderful
13 works that tingle my spine.
Y’all, I confess I’ve never been much of a Halloween queen. I don’t harbor some strange, secret love of candy corn. I’ve never participated in a seance, much less touched a Ouija board. And the annual pressure to come up with a clever costume is low-key my idea of a horror movie.
But set aside the pumpkin spice and the pageantry, and there’s something about this season that does kind of … whisper to me. It touches that dark little corner of my heart reserved for the morbidly fascinating.
You see, I like art that makes me uncomfortable. Art that probes the human capacity for both good and evil, and slowly exposes all the raw, tender, messy bits that lurk just beneath. It’s those gray areas—the imperfect and unanswerable—that are most interesting to me.
In literature, we’ve seen it play out fantastically in the contemptible characters that inhabit Flannery O’Connor’s southern gothic short stories, in the devastating knife twist of any closing sentence penned by Lucia Berlin, and the comically grisly surrealism of Russell Edson’s ape. On screen, we’ve been entranced by the spectacle of White Lotus and Parasite, watching with a mixture of disgust and delight as everyday folks like us hurtle toward their inevitable demise.
And in my amateur estimation, when it comes to art, some of the most memorable work is similarly squirmy. For me, it could just as easily be an unsettling image conveyed on canvas as a physical artifact and all the emotion that, intentionally or not, is bound to it. The long, yearning neck of a hand-built vase. Fiery etchings chiseled into a pewter pendant. The crooked stitches of a heritage textile, or the rings that stain the inside of a cup. Signs of a life—crude and clumsy. Perhaps that’s why figurative folk art is often where I see my humanity reflected most clearly.
As you may know, I consider myself somewhat of a collector of whimsical oddities. So in the spirit of All Hallow’s Eve, I decided I’d share a few of the more chilling pieces I’ve spotted recently that cast their spell on me. Some are simply old, and ache to tell a story. Others are almost certainly sinister. But to me, each is perfectly haunting in its beauty.
I gasped when I saw these mid-century modern apple bookends—a lovely little wink to the forbidden fruits, and the curse of consciousness. Knowledge is power, but then power is also often a poison, no?
Naked shapes, writhing bodies, mouths agape. Aris Moore’s grotesque, hand-painted creatures may be monstrous in nature, but they certainly seem human in their ecstasy and pain, in this print is a great example.
Okay, this mini ceramic incense holder is arguably adorable, but what I can’t get over is the fact that mister bear is lying on his side like he’s in the middle of a dissociative crisis. And given this election cycle, all I can do is burn some sage and say … same, little guy. Same.
Laura Benson’s wearable relics are designed to hold the things we cherish near to our hearts. Each hand-soldered pendant is surrounded by delicate spikes—a warning not to get too close, but also not to love too hard.
Where are all my witches at? Anchored by a polished amber crystal, this handcrafted brass bookmark has some serious heft—perfect for holding open an ancient text while you do, shall we say, “ingredient prep”?
Bright and playful on the surface but also dripping with excess (from the high heels to the head dresses), Caroline Pinney’s piece is a clever critique of our vaudevillian performance in the social circus all around us.
If I were so lucky as to snag one one of Cathy Cullis’s limited-release, hand-embroidered brooch portraits, I’d pin it to a vest, or place it in a gilded frame and arrange it in a tiny shrine for an eerie effect.
This silvery serpentine ring would look tantalizing slithered ‘round your pointer finger like a pretty little pet. A charming vintage statement piece, indeed, and perhaps even slightly insidious?
Ummm who is she? It doesn’t matter, I love her. From her thick, feathered forearms to her fancy ruffled collar, this avian angel, this voluptuously sculpted bird bottle, has stoppered my heart. What would you keep inside? Dead flowers? The tears of your enemies? Olive oil?
Cut from faded black cloth, draped in a frayed canvas dress, and finished with little more than a button and a couple of primitive stitches, I’d say this creepy-cuddly rabbit stuffie is a modern folk art success.
Is it me, or is there something inherently grim about all things Victorian? Sure, this filigree collar pin is elegant, but if you think about it, it’s also essentially a chain that keeps the throat locked up behind a tightly fastened button.
This one’s a portrait of me before I’ve had my coffee. (I especially love her droopy, wet noodly fingers. It’s almost like they’re melting into her soup.)
Speaking of coffee, just imagine sipping your morning brew with this wonky face staring back at you. Scheduled for a 7 a.m. Zoom? No prob, lemme just grab my slug mug and fill it with hot sludge.