Mrs Beverly (she of Jack and Beverly’s Images of Photographers) wrote to tell me about a lovely item they recently collected – a living picture, or clockwork tableau, from 1889 Germany. Showing a photographer with his troublesome victim or portrait subject, this coloured image set in a wooden frame has a clockwork mechanism at the back that controls the moving parts – the hand on the lens, the legs of the boy, even his tongue sticking out at the most inappropriate times! What a wonderful thing to have on your wall – simply wind it up and the little play acts out over and over. The photographer lifts off the lens and the boy starts playing up – apparently a common theme in early photography humour!
There’s a video showing the movement over at Berverly and Jack’s site – high tech in 1889, I’m sure! Quite lovely, and the possiblities for other scenes, more Steampunk scenes, bubble over in my mind! I did try to find other information about Living Pictures and Clockwork Tableau – but instead I found an amusing wikipedia article on Tableau Vivant – particularly the amusing part about circumnavigating the English censors in WWII! Any more information about more of these lovely creations would be appreciated!
While I am not in the business of importing or redistributing manufactured items, I do think that the above item has some wonderful potential either for adorning a more Steampunk PC desktop, or as inspiration for others looking to craft their own, far more elegant version, of the evil eye of our computer world – the webcam. Found by Mr Andy Anonymous, and to be found at the importing site here, it seems that this surprisingly cheap (no doubt primed for mark-up) also has an adjustable light built into it for use in murky laboratories or appropriately moody studies. I really do think that with some careful and cunning craftsmanship, a rather impressive variation of this (perhaps including ‘helping hand’ magnification devices or alligator clips) could be constructed, possibly as part of a larger piece.
Thank you, Mr Anonymous – you were right in your appraisal of the item!
Many of you have noticed that the BrassGoggles.co.uk domain had been down for several days – this was due to a hosting security issue that has since been fixed. So both this blog, and the Steampunk Forum are now back up – do not adjust your goggles. Unless of course they require adjusting, in which case may I recommend a very small spanner, and to use your backup goggles as eye protection in the meantime.
I apologise deeply for the downtime over the last few days.
Mr Babinski has enjoyed a whirlwind romance with Steampunk recently – being caught up in the wonderful visuals that we’ve come to adore – and being an artist of no small skill it has come to infleunce his work. Above, you can see Dr. Babinski’s Lycanthropy Remedy, a rather grim looking device for both indicating what portion of the patient is lupine vs human, and one must assume that the curious and bilious looking fluid will either kill or cure the wolf portion of the victim. I mean, patient. Ahem.
Constructed of Sterling silver, copper, wood and other found items, this really does look like a wonderful item for starting the most terribly interesting conversations over. There’s some other objects that Mr Babinski has created – some lovely wing and cog pins for example in his Steampunk Emporium of creations! Very well done, Mr Babinski!
Reader Ricco created a wonderful little Steampunk inspired model from the most humble of objects – a Kinder-Egg plastic capsule, and a selection of straws. While I may have no more information on this very charming and exceptionally well made kitbash, it seems to me to look like it was created in an alternative, late Steampunk/early Dieselpunk world for military purposes.
But no matter the backstory, to see this come from a simple plastic capsule, and to end up with such a character filled model, complete with wooden base, is most impressive indeed. Well done, Ricco – perhaps if you happen by you’ll let us know more about your methods and the backstory of this machine?
And novel it is indeed! La Mécanique du Cœur, by the French rock band Dionysos, is both a novel and an album of accompanying songs, telling the tale of a young boy from 19th Century Edinburgh, born with a heart so cold that his witch-midwife replaced it with a clockwork one, so that he may live. A sad tale of Steampunk, then.
The video above is what clinched this for me, however, beautiful animation with a faint “Nightmare Before Christmas” feel to it, with the unfortunate young man finding that a clockwork heart can break just as easily as a real one. More animated cogs than you can shake a beautifully designed pagoda parasol at, and a particularly sad ending to this miniature narrative. I do not know what they’re singing, but I do not mind terribly – it’s perhaps even more lovely because of it.
Thank you so very much to Mr Martin for pointing this out – and you can read much more about it at the Filles Sourires blog.
Ms Desanera has the most terrible addiction to heady, seductive scents such as those sold by the perfumery with a difference; Black Phoenix Alchemy. While many different styles and inspirations conspire to create their range of beautifully described aromas, their limited edition “Mechanical Phoenix” must surely tickle the imagination (if not the nose) of the fan of Steampunk:
“A mechanical construct: illustrating strong work ethic, determination, creativity, and innovation.
Copper gears, brass cogs, fused wiring, scorched iron, and motor oil.”
Sounds wonderful, and if they do deliver on those scents, then perhaps I’ll be able to stop keeping a cog or two in my pocket for a surreptitious whiff of brass, when the plastic clad world becomes too sterile. chuckles Thank you, Ms Desanera – what a wonderful addiction to have! (Image above is by *LaVaCaT of DeviantArt.)
Mr Datamancer, creator of many beautiful things not least of which are Steampunk keyboards that defy mundanity, has finished what must be his masterwork – the Steampunk Laptop. From its glass lidded frame, neath which nestle innumerable cogs of shiny brass, to the tiny lions foot corners – every inch of this extensively re-cased laptop has had the hand of a craftsman taken to it.
There are speakers hidden under black lined violin-style sound holes, there’s a ratcheted wind up key for turning it on (think Tik Tok in Return to Oz, perhaps?) and there’s a beautiful quill-style stylus for using on the golden coloured touchpad.
It is a delight, and I’m most definitely not the only one to think so – Mr Datamancer has been featured in many highly thought of places – not least of which are Newsweek and the NY Times. Congratulations, Doc – you’ve done very well and deserve praise for a most beautiful creation!
I feel I must briefly apologise for having dropped off the face of the planet – there were quite a few things going on that needed attending to, and had otherwise overloaded my feeble mind. Thank you to the people who posted in the comments asking where I was – I’m sorry I hadn’t been here to reply sooner.
Normal service should be resumed presently.
Apparently, the first cathode ray tube oscilloscope was invented by Karl Ferdinand Braun in 1897 merely as a curiostity of science, and while they went on to become essential tools of frequency and electricity, they still today have a certain wonder about them – those ghostly serpentine sine waves that can so easily fracture, square or squish at the turn of a knob or change of input. And so it was that Mr Andrew Smith (after finding a small cathode ray tube in his loft) decided to build a miniature, mostly ornamental oscilloscope as a talking piece!
The page linked to above goes in to some very technical detail if you have the skills to recreate it, and the Gadget Freak blog has the same write up, but slightly easier to read, but to me, knowing that there’s a slightly-larger than palm sized oscilloscope, with mahogany base and glowing valves sat on a table somewhere is enough for just now. Also, do check out the other ‘traditionally’ mounted electronic projects – some delightfully Steampunk! Thank you Mr C Jones for pointing these lovely things out to me.
