Tag Archives: New York

Dead Horse Bay: The Glass Graveyard of Brooklyn

Dead Horse Bay: The Glass Graveyard of Brooklyn at Urban Glass, February 1 - April 1, 2017 with work by Mark SplatterSee some of my assemblage/preservation specimen work in this show curated by Allison Meier at Urban Glass, Brooklyn. The show focuses on Dead Horse Bay, a little known New York beach park on Jamaica Bay, where refuse of several decades can be found washing ashore. Among the detritus, horse bones, remnants of the bone rendering plants from the turn of the century give the place its name. The place has been an inspiration to some of my work; I find it’s glass bottles and bones, old toys and everyday objects in various states of tide and weather worn decay fascinating.

Pieces on view by Mark Splatter at Urban Glass, Brooklyn: Pwet specimen and assemblage from Dead Horse BayThe show opened February 1 and remains on view until April 1, 2017. I have three pieces on view, two of them are wet preserved specimens: Seahorse and Irwin, both of which utilize decorative Assemblage in the style of Frederik Ruysch, and another is a Natural History Sculpture using only elements from DHB.


Murder Of Crows

Murder Of Crows, Friday August 7th at Mercury Lounge, NYC with The Brickbats Return, The Harrow and Peeling GreyThis Friday, August 7th at The Mercury Lounge is a special night for music in NYC – Three live bands on one stage with after party and Djs from California and England! Thanks to The Red Party and Salvation and the others for collaborating on an event of this magnitude – no small feat for the NYC club and booking landscape.

The event is titled Murder Of Crows: live bands: The Brickbats Return again to the stage after nearly 200 years. Peeling Grey from Los Angeles are appearing for the first time in New York and with their album release party. The Harrow are from New York and one of its best new artists in years.

Yours truly will be behind the merch stand with my own brand of Deathrock and Gothpunk clothing and accessories from Mark Splatter Printwerk along with my good friends from California of Release The Bats and Killer Pins!

Then on August 30th I will be vending again at the Morbid Anatomy Museum Flea Market Summer Reprise among an increased group of vendors at a larger space next door to the Museum at The Bell House!

The Info:

Those Damn Goths present : A Murder Of Crows

2 Nights of Bands, DJs, Merch Booze, Friends & Fun!


10:30 – 4:00AM
The Brickbats (The Return) (NY)

Peeling Grey (Record Release Party) (CA)

The Harrow (NY)

Sean Templar (The Red Party, UNDERWORLD) (NY)

Martin Oldgoth (thirteen13 radio show, Nostalgia) (UK)

Dave Bats (Release The Bats, Helter Skelter) (CA)

Patrick Cusack (SALVATION, Albion) (NY)
Spinning The best Creepy Crawlies All Night!
Very Special Guest MC Voltaire!

Mandana Banshie (Dorian Gray)

Mercury Lounge

217 East Houston
Doors 10:30 – 4:00 am

$10 Advance Tickets

$15 at Door



10:00 – 4:00AM

DJ Sean Templar

Joe Cyn

Dave Bats

Martin Oldgoth
Special Guest Hosts:

Jenn Bats (Killer Pins)

Brigitte Gothtart (Thirteen13)



$5 BEFORE 11PM / $12 AFTER

Mark Splatter Printworks!

Killer Pins!

Oddities From A Gowanus Apartment

New York Times - "Oddities From A Gowanus Apartment", Brooklyn Historical Society and City Reliquary present Collector's Night 2014In October 2014, Brooklyn Historical Society and City Reliquary presented Collector’s Night 2014. I was included as one of the Collectors, and the article in the New York Times was titled “Where Cockroach Legs and Snow White Have Something In Common” and a slideshow subtitled “Oddities From A Gowanus Apartment”. A photographer was sent to my apartment in Gowanus/Park Slope and snapped a few of my collection pieces. These photographs are directly from the article photographed by Karsten Moran. You’ll see a collection of antique carving and butcher knives, stereo views, skulls, keys, and wet specimens I have both collected and prepared. Also a pretty good portrait of myself by the very talented photographer who was able to get some great exposures out of glass in a very small environment!


Why does George Orwell prefer never to eat in smart restaurants again at the end of ‘Down and Out in Paris and London’? (1933)
He argues that the luxury of such places are a sham. not only a sham but a swindle. for exorbitant prices, you are served a meal that has had every conceivable corner cut out of it. i must say i agree. from the Jackson Pollock-esque use of a few sauces on top of a sliver of entree to the high price of designer sodas, wines and beers, tipping a waiter who would just as soon serve you out of a garbage can.
Orwell, during the late 1920s worked the Paris service industry first as dishwasher in a luxury hotel, second at a small restaurant, as plongeur, or dishwasher/prep cook. I would say that despite detailed regulation which is regularly enforced at most establishments – whether Paris, London, New York, Los Angeles or Berlin – the problem of cleanliness in the kitchen is still an issue.
But the heart of the matter is the work involved. He presents the fact that the staff of a restaurant (hotel or any other establishment) is concerned with service, expediency and profit. to keep profits high, fewer employees must work long hours, waste as little as they can get away with, being able to hide sub-par materials in the process of transforming it to an elegant meal – if only on the surface.
more importantly, these employees are little more than slaves. There is no doubt many levels of prep-cooks and dishwashers and sub-chef kitchen staff, at many eves of income, who’d not think of themselves as underpaid wage slaves. But the point I’m trying to make is not to sound the alarm bell on behalf of all underpaid kitchen staff through the world. there are many other positions of like it that suffer the same dilemma.
Our underpaid kitchener can hardly support a life of comfort on this wage. a warm house for himself and perhaps his family, enough quality food to eat, clothes and education. the basics of a normal human life. he is working hard for this, harder than others often, in heat and filth and with no reward for a job well done, aside for perhaps the excess of the kitchens output in form of food and drink. being hard work, Orwell points out that it is taken for granted that it is valuable work. Or is it?
Luxury restaurants provide the convenience of being served an exotic meal, the pomp and performance, the atmosphere, and the feeling that one is making a grand gesture which translates into triple and quadruple digit bills at the end of the night. Orwell’s supposition is that a home cooked meal is infinitely cheaper, more quality, than a luxury restaurant. “Essentially a ‘smart’ hotel is a place where a hundred people toil like devils in order that two hundred may pay through the nose for things that they do not really want.”
No doubt, from Orwell’s position at the time, from the bottom looking up, its easy to dismiss the millions of people who dine at restaurants on point of habit and principle. but he accounts for this in his analogy of the rickshaw puller in asia – hard, unrewarding work for small pay to a poor class, but a luxury to the rider, only in so far as that those who ride a rickshaw “consider it vulgar to walk”.
Another thing he is getting at is the benefit of ‘work’ in society. He begins by presenting the addage “A slave should be working when he is not sleeping” (Marcus Cato, 2nd Century BCE). The effect being that slaves should have no leisure time in which to bemoan their condition, rally together, and upset the status quo. Not that everyone languishing in a poor job can be reduced to a slave, but there is a parallel in the amount of drudgery and any reasonable expectations at advancing one social status from point A to B. What it comes down to is, that lower classes are kept in a constant state of flux as of wether they are going to be able to ‘pull through’, even in normal everyday circumstances that provide the basics of civilized living.
This condition is perpetuated by the upper classes, who do not want to lose any of their own liberties by spreading them even thinner amongst someone lower than themselves. This could be anything from a house in the suburbs to a family vacation ‘to Italy’ (where siad family will stay in hotels and dine in luxury restaurants). This is fear of the mob.
“Fear of the mob is a superstitious fear. It is based on the idea that there is some mysterious, fundamental difference between rich and poor, as though they were two different races, like negroes and white men. But in reality there is no such difference. The mass of the rich and the poor are differentiated by their incomes and nothing else, and the average millionaire is only the average dishwasher dressed in a new suit.” So the cycle repeats, and even today we have billions of jobs created merely for the need of something to keep the underclass busy, and at that constantly occupied in at least what is supposed to be 8 hour a day jobs – down from the 15 hour work days Orewll describes having participated in during the late 1920s. Not that those extra hours are now leisure in which we empower ourseves with. De rigueur is the shopping, television, video games and fantasy novels we are convinced to spend time and ever more money on. Also, in thanks to that 8 hour work day, even more individuals can be employed, to take part in the cycle as populations grow in order to provide more consumers for the products that the rich are selling us. More breakfast cereal, more wide screen TVs, more hair products, more fashionable clothing, more luxury restaurants and hotels.
Henry Miller (whose Paris experience postdates Orwell’s by something like a decade) came to the conclusion as well, that this drudgery, this busy work, is needless, and particularly with the urgency that it sometimes demands. All this work, will get done. If man were left to his leisure, he will eat, he will have a home. He may not have the need to make sure that the LCD is secure on a new assembly line television in a factory that is made to be sold he knows not where to he knows not who, destined to be trashed in another year for the next model so that the owner of said company can have several houses that stand empty for a good part of the year.
Does this mean that I am against restaurants altogether? Not at all. There is a difference between a ‘smart’ or luxury restaurant, and a place to get a meal. Getting a meal does not require the deal of prestige and multiplied cost that comes with some establishments where the cost is derived from the Brand, the name of the proprietor, or the amount of stars it draws in equally frivolous catalogs, repositories for limitless other effete dining spots and hotel restaurants. There are a dozen or more eateries, taquerías, burger joints, food carts and bistros individually owned in my neighborhood alone. Not to say that any one of them is guaranteed to be especially clean, or their staff isn’t underpaid, but you’re also not paying three times (minimal!) as much for that risk. The last time I did something like that was for my 36th birthday – at a times square restaurant – hardly luxury, but in any case deliberately ornate, with the expectation of paying a premium for it. The food was blander, the drinks exorbitantly priced (this is New York, after all), the atmosphere, although exceptional, was also cheap, and not worth repeating the experience. Next time I feel the need to go out, I’ll go to an Argentinian grill or a burger restaurant where at the going rate $20 will get you a decent meal and a drink. But I agree with Orwell that a meal at home is far more satisfying with just a few simple ingredients from your preferred markets. And I also agree that the cost, for the amount of labor and for quality of product at a fancy restaurant, serves two purposes: To enrich the owner of said restaurant and a status symbol for the diner. Neither of which are appealing to my sensibility.

– George Orwell, Down and Out in Paris (1933, Chapter XXII)
– Henry Miller Reads and Reflects

Anarchistic Evening Entertainment

An experience brought me back to an idea I had last year of putting things into channels via YouTube and curating my own television station of video content gathered from YouTube, the internet, uploaded myself etc. Not only music videos, but Documentaries, films and clips of subjects I want to portray, things I’m interested in. Even hosting my own show cooking, introducing music videos, talking about movies, whatever. There’s a ton of things to show available, all open licensed or not yet taken down.
I dont own a television myself, and more often than not most of my friends haven’t had television, at least in the past few months while I’ve stayed in a variety of homes and apartments. I do have the habit of watching certain series from time to time, Dexter, Madmen, Band of Brothers, Farscape, etc, but these I watch online, with no need of a television. I also have the habit since I almost always eat alone, of wanting to watch something while I eat at dinner.
I came home this evening to make another grilled cheese sandwhich deluxe and pondered what to watch. This came to mind, from the book I’m reading at the moment. ‘Tropic Of Cancer’ by Henry Miller.
Watching Miller as an old man rising from bed and slowly examining the pictures covering his bathroom walls, I recalled my old studio-bedroom wall, and as he explained the effect all those images had on him, I remember the same experience. He goes into his admiration for Hermann Hesse, discussing Buddhist iconography versus christian, the breasts of the woman bathing in his shower and the streets of New York. This is Anarchistic Evening Entertainment.

Tannhäuser Gate

Today was one of those C-Beam days, I thought to myself. I love my bike. On a biketrail through Brooklyn, passing by dozens of attractive little streets, acquainting myself with new neighborhoods and upping my bistro, gallery and studio vocabulary. I stopped for an espresso at a little cafe in Dumbo. Dusk was just coming on when I found my trail at the base of Brooklyn Bridge Park, and the sun sank patiently ahead of me and ever to the right, creating brilliant colors on the puddles of the pavement, and drawing out extra tones of reds and oranges from the brick houses dashing by. This was definitly the wrong week to take up epilepsy, as spoked iron fences made the sun a giant strobo. With C-Beams on my mind, I recall how I was only a few months ago before the gates of Elsinore. Now, I’m passing by Tannhäuser Gate.
I haven’t been getting my usual dose of travel, clearly. In it’s stead I’ve been losing myself in books, and as usual, films. Sketching out allegories and scribbling away dreams and fragments. A mountain of fragments. One of my favorite authors lately has been Ferdinand Céline, first with ‘Guignols Band’ and ‘Death on the Installment Plan’, while I wait for ‘Journey to the End of the Night’ to pop up used in one of my favorite NYC bookshops (East Village Books, The Strand, Mast Books) I stumbled on ‘Wagner The Werewolf’ (speaking of Tannhäuser…) by George Reynolds, which reads like a cheap, outdated serialized romance novel. Which is exactly what it is, and I’m loving it – one of the first tales of werewolves in the modern (Victorian) era. Certainly no Bram Stoker or Mary Shelley, it does have a certain appeal, and it runs better than Glenn Duncan’s recent ‘The Last Werewolf’ which lost its ground trying to fuse the werewolf mythos with the inevitability of modern technology, but moreso in the crossover of preternatural sub-society, in addition to the sappy vampires. Still a worthwhile read, but only three out of 5 stars, one star being awarded purely on the horror point. Another of those stars goes to the graphic sex; playing up the hormones of the lupine race managed to hit to bell on the pinball machine on multiple and rapid successions. The sequel to ‘The Last Werewolf’ just came out, called ‘Talullah Rising’, Talullah being the lycanthropic successor to the until previously thought, *last* werewolf.


New York, NY – 10/27/11

Thursday, October 27, 2011
12:00am - 21+
158 Bleecker Street
New York, NY, USA 10012
Other Info
Hark and Pay Heed Kinder, Kings and Fools
For The Glory and Majesty of You
Friends of Our World

We Humbly Invite You To The Dance

The Sacred Order of The Jabberwocky!
(A Costumed Affaire)

Thursday October 27

Your Host & Hostesses

DJ Hi-Fi Hillary
DJ PureVile
DJ Jeffo!
DJ Sean Templar
DJ Mark Splatter

plus a special musical performance at midnight by

Queen of Doors:
Mandana Banshie

A Collection of $5 nothing more
Doors 10pm

Dress: Victorian, Folly, Goth, Fairy, Alice in Wonderland, Halloween!

The Gallery at LPR
158 Bleecker Street

Lewis Carroll

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe."

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New York, NY – 10/26/11

Wednesday, October 26, 2011
TBD - I'll be spinning with Frankie all night, Live band at Mindnight! - 21+
Private Venue
Other Info



11PM-4AM / $5 / 21+

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