Showing posts with label penis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label penis. Show all posts

Friday, January 04, 2019

Pet Pictures

Back during the B.E. posting an occasional picture of your pet was essential.  "What's the B.E.?" I hear you ask.  It was "The Blog Era."

The B.E.is long gone, killed off by Social Media.  S.M. makes posting pictures of your pets much easier.  Actually, anything you could do on a blog is easier with S.M.  You just need to sell your soul by sharing your personal data.  And also spend time looking at ads.

Chowderhead the dog behind the gate

Today, in a 'glorious' homage to the B.E., I present more than a few pictures of our pets.  (Click them to see enlargements.)  We will begin with Chowderhead.

Chowderhead the dog on wet driveway

Chowderhead is our dog.  He's old for a big dog.  We got him in 2007 when we figured he was about one year old.  That makes him twelve now.  (Read a little about his origin story here.)

Chowderhead the dog and hexagonal tile floor

More gray hairs.  Moves more slowly.  Deterioration of hearing.  Sleeps a lot more.  Overweight.  Those things all describe me.  Also the dog.  Still, we're both doing pretty well for our ages.  We both have health insurance.

Chowderhead the dog on floor with rear leg extended

Chowderhead did have a recent medical issue, a hematoma in his left ear.  We took him to the vet  who said he had to wear the collar for a week.  At the end of the week he had totally reduced the collar to plastic shards.

Chowderhead the dog wearing his ruff, or collar

Chowderhead hates the vet.  He hates the vet so much he growls a lot and, when the doctors try to touch him, he vibrates with fear like a cellphone.  They make him wear a muzzle when he visits lest he bite.  Otherwise leatherwear is not really his thing.

Chowderhead the dog wearing a leather muzzle

His thing is sleeping in the backyard.  He is king of the backyard.

Chowderhead the dog sleeping on the grass

Most certainly Chowderhead's most remarkable appendage is his tail.  Here's a little video of 'The Tail' in action.





Mixed Meters' one remaining reader will remember that we also have three cats.  They rarely gather for a group photo unless food is involved.

Our three cats, clockwise from top: Doctor Pyewacket, Spackle Puss and Crackle Pop

The two gray and white cats are twins.  Spackle Puss is the smaller one; she has white stripes on the back of her ears.  Her brother, Crackle Pop, has a tabby stripe tail and a white spot on his back.  Like the dog, they're about twelve years old.  Here's their origin story.

2 cats on stairs: Spackle Puss (L) and Crackle Pop (R)




We'll start with pictures of Crackle.  There isn't much to say about Crackle.

Crackle Pop, the cat

Crackle isn't very friendly to strangers.  He hides when there are visitors.  Otherwise he's a great cat who likes getting petted and doesn't often make a mess.  He likes to climb on my lap but he can never get comfortable up there.

Crackle Pop, the cat, wants up on my lap

In the following picture you can see a cow poster hanging in my office.  It was given to me by a composer named John Adams.  It's the cover of his Gnarly Buttons album.  He autographed it for me, accidentally finishing the tail end of his signature on the wall itself.  Then the signature faded.  However the mark on the wall remains.  Later he returned and signed the poster again, twice, in indelible ink.

Crackle Pop, the cat, in front of John Adams' Gnarly Buttons album poster

While Donald Trump's dislike of dogs is well known, I've never read anything about his feeling towards felines.  You can search almost five million words he has spoken at this website.  I couldn't find a single reference to 'cat' or 'kitty' or 'feline'.  'Pussy' gets a few hits.

Crackle Pop, the cat, on the stairs





The second pussy on our list is named Spackle.  Spell check does not know the word Spackle; it underlines every occurrence as a possible misspelling.  There's much more to tell you about Spackle than about her brother.

Spackle Puss, the cat, on my desk

Spackle has an incredibly sharp tongue.  We know this because she likes to lick people's bare skin.  When she really gets into her licking it can be very painful for the human.  We don't know why she does this.

Spackle Puss, the cat, yawning

Another annoying thing is that she drools a lot.  After she sits on your lap you'll find a damp spot on your leg.  Yuch.

Spackle Puss, the cat, wishing she were outside hunting birds

Spackle is an extremely vocal cat.  While underfoot in the kitchen she repeats - in cat language -  "Give me some of that." over and over.  It's gotten to the point that she'll beg anytime a human walks into the kitchen.  This happens whether food is present or not.  Then she runs excitedly from one side of the room to the other.  And she runs back.  She does these little cat sprints over and over again.

Spackle Puss, the cat, looking cute on the back of a chair

When dinner time finally rolls around she eats voraciously.  And yet somehow she is still a super thin kitty, just skin and bones.  Her skinniness is actually worrying.  At least we've gotten her to stop vomiting her dinner in unexpected places.

Spackle Puss, the cat, on the stairs

Although Chowderhead and Crackle and Spackle are all approximately the same chronological age, they are different ages relative to their species.  I've seen charts which suggest that Chowder, compared to human lifespan, is in his 'late seventies'.  The gray cats, compared to humans, are, oh, about mid-sixties.  By coincidence, I'm in my mid-sixties as well.

Spackle Puss, the cat, on oval table

Pets don't have any idea how old they are.  I think I might enjoy not knowing how old I am.  Unfortunately we humans have calendars to keep track of these things.  For an excellent description of the invention of the calendar I suggest you listen to The Adventures of Greggery Peccary by Frank Zappa.

Spackle Puss, the cat, on the back of a chair




By any measure the youngest member of our household is Doctor Pyewacket, the black kitten which Leslie found in the bushes near our house.  Pyewacket will be four years old this spring.  This cat on the fence post is not Doctor Pyewacket.

A feral black cat on a fence

That fence cat is probably one of Pye's distant cousins, a member of the same feral clowder of cats to which we think Pyewacket traces his ancestry.  HERE is the real Doctor Pyewacket sitting on the floor.    (Yeah, I had to look up the word 'clowder'.)

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, on the floor

The good doctor recently had serious health issues in the form of blocked urinary tract.  He nearly died.  After multiple visits to the the kitty hospital his condition mysteriously improved just about the time the vet suggested surgically removing his penis.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, in a blue medical collar

Penectomies are never the preferred option for billions of male humans worldwide.  I, for one, wince just hearing the suggestion, even when it isn't me being considered as the patient.  The subject of penises has come up several times during Mixed Meters' varied history.  Read all about them here.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, with shaved legs

We presume that Pyewacket spent the first few weeks of his life out in the wilds of suburban Pasasdena.  Since then we've confined him indoors - safely away from predatory coyotes and unable to predate on cute little birdies.  Spackle and Crackle have never been outside a single day in their entire lives.  Or, for that matter, even for a few minutes.  (Yeah, predate is not really a real word.)

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, looking out window with lace curtains and outside bushes

Poor Doctor Pyewacket is pretty much at the bottom of the feline pecking order in our little cat trio.  Maybe it should be called "scratching order"?  In any case, old skinny Spackle can send young virile Pyewacket running off with one swipe of her paw.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, on a table looking up

Shooting pictures of Pyewacket is difficult.  All black cats are hard to photograph.  Or maybe not.  Maybe I'm just not a great photographer.  Maybe shooting pictures of black cats is really easy.  Or maybe I don't have good enough equipment.  Yes, that's it.  That must be the problem - I have been given inadequate tools.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, looking intently out a window

Blaming inadequate results on something or someone else is becoming common in the U.S. these days.  If good stuff happens, sure, that was us doing that.  We'll happily take credit for the good stuff.  When bad stuff hits the fan - find someone to blame.  In fact, maybe "Blame Them" should replace "e pluribus unum" as our national motto.  It's shorter and easier to remember.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, shown as a shadow behind a curtain

Recently a complete stranger came up to me and said she thought that I looked like Marlon Brando.  She asked whether I was told that often.  Looking at this picture of Doctor Pyewacket holding on to my shoulder for dear life, I think I look more like Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell.  Now there's someone who deserves a lot of blame for America's current impasses.

Doctor Pyewacket, the cat, looking terrified, on the shoulder of a Mitch McConnell impersonator

I will say that Mitch does have more hair than I do.  I wonder if he owns a cat.

Mitch McConnell, a turtle impersonator and majority leader of the US Senate, who is an even bigger threat to American Democracy than Donald Fucking Tr-mp.  A very dangerous and evil person

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Dildos on Mixed Meters

September 15 was the eleventh anniversary of Mixed Meters.  I must have started this blog for some good reason.  Right?


In my very first post I admonished myself to keep things short.  I've failed at that quest many times.   In one early post an anonymous commenter said that I "went on and on and on about it..."  ('It' was a hip hop song which quoted the Dies Irae.)   Dude was right.  "Going on and on" has become a motto around here.  Thanks, Dude.

I really appreciate everyone who reads my blather, either here or via email.  Getting comments is a pleasant bonus.

What's really amazing is not that I'm still posting.  I'm amazed that I haven't found an excuse good enough to get me to quit.

It's been remarked that Facebook has killed blogging.  True enough.  Many things which I used to post here I now post there - and they disappear completely in a few days.  If I link Mixed Meters posts to my Facebook page they might get a few extra comments on Facebook.  FB, however, doesn't increase the traffic here much.


Incomprehensibly Google tells me that Mixed Meters keeps getting hits anyway.  Google, as you know, owns Blogger and competes with Facebook.  They provide me with this fine web forum for free.  Thanks, Goog.

What's more, they've been keeping track of my hit totals since 2010.  Last month MM registered the highest monthly hit total in that entire time, double the amount from the previous August.  Why?  I have absolutely no clue.  Certainly not because of all the great articles I've been posting.

In 2008 I joined something called Google Adsense, where the Goog posts ads on my blog which they think will interest you, my dear readers.  Every time you click their ad a small sum of money is paid to an account in my name.  Over 6 or more years I had gotten over $25 in credits.  Hey, don't laugh.  It's the biggest revenue stream in Mixed Meters entire history.

The trick - and there's always a trick - is that in order to get paid in actual currency, my earnings would have to reach $100.  And that would take, give or take a long time, another 24 years or so.

Recently I learned that this is not the incredibly sweet deal I thought it was.  Google Adsense, for all its largesse, does have a few rules.  And one of those rules is 'family friendly'.

Last February (the February in 2016) an email arrived calling my attention to one particular page http://mixedmeters.com/2007_09_01_archive.html - an archive of all seven posts I made in September of 2007.  Their complaint was pretty non-specific considering the variety of subjects I addressed that month.

Google ads may not be placed on pages with adult or any kinds of non family-safe content. This includes, but is not limited to, pages with images or videos containing:
  • Strategically covered nudity
  • Sheer or see-through clothing
  • Lewd or provocative poses
  • Close-ups of breasts, buttocks, or crotches
Were they complaining about my piece of music named after my dog's genitals?  Maybe.  Maybe they didn't like this picture of a topless Hawaiian goddess:


Or this historical, usually strategically blurred, photo (from my article comparing judicial punishments for Abu Gharib prison and Nazi death camp officers):


Or this musically relevant photo of nude people doing couples yoga on a Paul Horn concert poster which I had found in Leslie's papers:


I'll never know exactly which post that month triggered the warning, only that it took 8 and a half years for me to get the news.  I opted to ignore the notice.

Then in June another warning, this time for a specific post from an even earlier date: http://mixedmeters.com/2006/12/what-you-cant-call-artificial-penis-in.html    This time their complaint was more specific:

Google ads may not be placed on adult or mature content. This includes fetish content as well as sites that promote, sell or discuss sexual aids. Examples include, but are not limited to:
  • sexual fixations or practices that may be considered unconventional
  • sexual aids or enhancement tools such as vibrators, dildos, lubes, sex games, inflatable toys
  • penis and breast enlargement tools
So Google objected to my discussion of the legality of saying the word dildo in Texas.  I was inspired by this video clip from a film called The Dildo Diaries. Watch for a good laugh at the Texas legislature's expense.  It features Molly Ivins, a political reporter who had a knack for finding humor in narrow-minded politics.


These days, 10 years later, I have no clue whether it's still illegal to say the word "dildo" in a Texas sex shop, though, apparently,  at least parts of this particular law have been declared unconstitutional.  I do know that Molly Ivins, then the reigning champion at exposing Texas hypocrisy, has since died.  I hope someone is carrying on her work because it's a sure bet that Texas politics are still jaw-droppingly crazy.

Anyway, after the second notice I decided to make Google happy and remove the ad from Mixed Meters.  It represented my blog's only source of income.  Now it's gone.

Had I kept the ad, sometime around the year 2040 — when I'll be nearly ninety years old — if Mixed Meters still exists then — if the Internet still exists then — if I'm even capable of writing blather then — I might have earned $100 from Google as payment for my 35 or so years of blog writing.  That would have been a sweet moment of validation.   And I'm giving it up to preserve my right to write about dildos if I want to.

Hey, that's the Mixed Meters blog news for another year.  Thanks for reading.




The subject of penises used to come up a lot on this blog to the point that I created a "penis" label.  Click here to see all my blog posts marked "penis".  Google Adsense would have been shocked by that.

Read more Crankshaft.
Buy stuff that says No One Cares About Your Stupid Blog.
Buy the complete Dildo Diaries.
On my original dildo post you can still watch the Dildo Song video and the links to OhMyBod and The Phallic Logo awards remain active.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

The New Point and Shoot In My Pocket

On this blog I've often referred to the camera I carry with me nearly all the time as "the point 'n shoot in my pocket".  I've always worried that the phrase had an element of sexual innuendo to it.   No one has ever mentioned being offended by any oblique phallic reference, so I guess it's all in my mind.  Probably no one read those posts.

The camera in question was introduced to Mixed Meters' three readers back in August 2007 after I received it as a gift from an anonymous admirer.  That post was called The New Point and Shoot In My Pocket.

This post is has the exact same title.  Can you guess why?



First, let's detour briefly into the world of sexual innuendo.  An alert Mixed Meters' contributor, Michael of Oakland, was amused by this book cover because it suggested male genitalia rather than a rocket ship.  I just don't see what he's talking about.  Do you?


A recent article on Alternet, 19 Best Double-Entendre Songs That Are Really About Sex, details the same supposed phenomena in the world of popular music.  People must have dirty minds.  Number seven on the list, Keep on Churnin' by Wynonie Harris, has always been a Mixed Meters fave.  Maybe that's because I grew up in Iowa where there are many farms.


Anyway, I was talking about cameras.

The new Point 'n Shoot In My Pocket is a Lumix, made by Panasonic.  It's a little bigger than my old one.  Every man wants something bigger in his pocket as he ages.  That's probably why they invented Viagra.

This camera was also a gift from my anonymous admirer, given as an early birthday present.  Thanks, Leslie.

Seven years ago I posted a picture of the new camera taken with the old one.  I wanted to do the same thing this time.  I felt it would be best to show it in animated format.


Nothing phallic about that.  Nope.

The photographic capabilities of this camera far exceed my previous one.  It's going to take me quite a while to learn to use it properly.  In my first evening I crashed it twice trying to set up the wi-fi link.

Leslie snapped the very first shot with the new beast, taking my picture.  I intended to smile.  Instead I was completely surprised by the aggressive focus lights and bright flash. The full-size shot focused too directly on my nose hair so I reduced the resolution.


And here's the second shot.  I took this one completely by accident at full 30x optical zoom from about the same position.  It shows the base of the television set behind my left shoulder.  The little patch of in-focus grid is the window screen.


Regular readers should expect my pictures here on Mixed Meters and on its sister blog Mixed Messages (and also my videos on YouTube) to improve somewhat more than this last picture might suggest.

BTW, over my right shoulder are two pieces of art featuring my face.  The top one is called Blood, Sweat and Tones by Robert Jacobs.   The bottom one, a sketch by the artist Spark, shows me composing music while seated at Starbucks.

Click this link to read all Mixed Meters posts which are labeled "penis".  You'll find such classics as "Celebrate Leslie's Birthday With Penis Fencing" and "Mozart's Penis versus Schoenberg's Penis".


Thursday, October 31, 2013

Frank Zappa's 200 Motels - The Suites

On Wednesday October 23 the Los Angeles Philharmonic performed Frank Zappa's 200 Motels - The Suites, an event marking Disney Hall's tenth anniversary.  It was an elaborately staged, spare-no-expense, more-than-ninety-minute concert version for soloists, actors, chorus and massive orchestra.  It was exceptionally well done. It was great fun.  It was like a rock and roll concert.  Sadly, however, it was sold out and one night only.  Many fans of Zappa's music wished for tickets they couldn't get.

I'd like to thank the Philharmonic, and especially conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen and also Chad Smith, Philharmonic VP for Artistic Planning who shepherded this project from the beginning, for allowing me to observe all the orchestra rehearsals.  Remarkably, there were only three.  It was a wonderful thing to see this music prepared and performed with such precision and positive professionalism - qualities often missing in large orchestra productions during Frank's lifetime.  Watching this production come together prompted a lot of thoughts and emotions in me.

Gail Zappa, Frank's widow, and her team, also deserve thanks for putting Frank's music into a performable format. They chose the name "200 Motels - The Suites". There are 13 suites, played continuously, some of which are further divided into smaller sections.  They selected an order for the suites which is reminiscent of the movie.  There's only a faint semblance of story line.

I haven't been so excited about a live music event in a very long time.  I found the execution and performance of 200 Motels - The Suites thrilling.  It was a performance to remember.

Los Angeles Philharmonic performs Frank Zappa's 200 Motels - The Suites - October 23 2013

The action is seen through the eyes of a touring rock band.  Frank seemed to think that everyone would be interested in the grueling aspects of his life on the road.  He toured a lot, traveling from town to town, each night searching out decent food, a clean shower and, apparently, someone to screw.  He cast himself and his fellow band members as characters in the story and assembled his loose libretto around the tribulations of touring: clueless interviewers, hostile local residents and bad drug trips.

In "I'm Stealing the Room" (Suite X). band member Mark (or is it Howard) wants to bring Jeff, the bass player, down from a bad trip caused by sniffing a mildewed bath towel.  Zappa wrote this dialogue:
We gotta get him back to normal before Zappa finds out and steals it and makes him do it in the movie. 
Yes, the action in 200 Motels is completely self-referential.

Frank uses the unlikely medium of symphonic composition to complain about the tribulations of being a rock star.  It's hard to feel too sorry for him.  I wonder if he ever gave a second thought to the notion that almost no one else in the universe could relate to his life.  A lot of people were probably downright jealous of him for exactly the things he was complaining about.

Could he have come up with better subject matter?  Maybe there is no better subject for an evening of musical entertainment than the life of the composer.  Frank's creative output almost never touches on the eternal verities.  He liked to use the small realities of life for his inspiration - for example, the cleanliness of his kitchen or the stupid things Jimmy Swaggart did.

I feel that lyrics and plots were not Zappa's creative strength. What he did best was turn out a stream of exceptional music, much of it very advanced and challenging.  His bands were monumentally tight.  He knew how to craft first-rate albums.  He managed to do these things in many different musical styles during his career.  He was a great musician.  A genius.

an example of an orchestra score in Frank Zappa's own manuscript - Tuna Sandwich Ballet

As you know, most rock stars have not been inspired to the life of orchestral composition by the music of Edgar Varese.  And of those that have been so inspired, apparently only Frank Zappa spent his free time while on tour writing gargantuan orchestra pieces.  Frank used his on-the-road compositional activities as the premise for the introduction to "The Pleated Gazelle" (Suite IX).

"The Pleated Gazelle" begins with a spoken narrative by the character called Frank (or is it Larry the Dwarf, the two looked identical) :
One night I couldn't get any action after the concert.  I went back to the hotel by myself.  I made some instant coffee and I took out the music I'd been working on, a piece for voice and small ensemble.  It was called "I Have Seen the Pleated Gazelle".  Some people might wonder why a person might want to write something like this.  It's not pretty and I don't think that it's sensible. But that didn't matter to me while I was writing it.  I just wrote down whatever came to mind.  I figured I'd never get to hear it anyway.  It occurred to me that night that if the piece was ever performed the audience might like it better if it had a story.  So I made up a story.
Here Frank is painting a clever portrait of how he composed.  He starts by implying that he only wrote music when he couldn't get laid.  He then tells us that this music was not for everyone and that he knew he was asking for impractical resources and stratospheric levels of musicianship.  Only later did he add plot lines, however surreal, in hope of giving more people a chance to relate.  I saw this happen directly in the music of A Zappa Affair, the large puppet and orchestra production produced by the Berkeley Symphony in 1984.

It's important to remember that all the music of 200 Motels - The Suites (and much more) was composed before Frank turned 30.  Also that he was largely self taught.  Also that these scores performed last week reflect exactly what he wrote back then, still very much a young inexperienced composer.

The performances of this music which he heard in the seventies were nowhere near as good as the one I heard in Disney Hall.  The orchestras back then had neither the resources nor the musicianship of today's Los Angeles Philharmonic.  They also lacked the positive attitude.  If by some chance Frank had gotten a performance this good, he might have grown as an orchestra composer in a way we can only imagine.

Los Angeles Philharmonic performs Frank Zappa's 200 Motels - The Suites - October 23 2013 - Frank hold foaming broth

Frank follows the compositional confessional in The Pleated Gazelle with a story about a girl who falls in love with a newt rancher.  Her love, alas, is unrequited because he is attracted to an industrial vacuum cleaner.  I can imagine that story is something you might find in, say, a surreal opera.  In fact Schott, the publisher of this music, lists 200 Motels - The Suites  as an opera.

200 Motels?  An opera?  That must annoy "real" opera fans, the ones who repeatedly attend Ring Cycles and Rigolettos.

There had been some question of how regular Green Umbrella subscribers would react to this production of 200 Motels - what with all the absurdity and profanity.  I did see only a handful of people walking out mid-Suite.

When he composed this music Frank certainly was not writing for opera devotees or for symphony fanatics.  He never showed much respect for the long classical tradition which weighs on contemporary composers these days.  The traditions which force composers to share programs with the masterpieces by revered icons of classical music did not mean much to him.  Frank, after all, was an iconoclast.  He was good at breaking icons.  Very good.

In the blue-hair department, I found one reviewer who vented his unhappiness with this production, someone named Rodney Punt.  Here's a sample bit of screed from that online review.
I thought the work a pretentious, puerile, extravagant bore. The libretto (too kind a word) was wretched and trite but it thought itself clever and witty. The music was gauche, boring, and proceeded from one unmerited climax to another. Zappa certainly had ambition and all the documentary evidence suggests he worked hard on this work. But inherent musical value? Not there. I don't see creative or organizational talent in this score.
On the road Frank certainly encountered people who didn't like his music.  We know this because he added such a character to 200 Motels.  In this production Lonesome Cowboy Burt was portrayed as a gun-totin' blusterin' bully who terrorized the band members and dumped a wheelbarrow of faux shit on the stage.  The wheelbarrow had the logo of the LA Phil on it.

Later Burt meandered through the orchestra improvising insults.  "You donated money for THIS?" he asked the audience.  Burt ends up center stage pointing his pistols at the unflappable Esa-Pekka Salonen with the demand "Hey Twerp, why can't you play something I can enjoy?"

Since 200 Motels comes with its own built-in unhappy critic, it needs no more.  Superfluous unhappy critics might have done a good deed by giving up their tickets to some eager Zappa fan.

Los Angeles Philharmonic performs Frank Zappa's 200 Motels - The Suites - October 23 2013 - Lonesome Cowboy Burt

A much better online review by Richard S. Ginell has this description of the problems Zappa's music encounters in the classical music world.
What makes Zappa’s unique world as a whole so difficult for some to accept is that you have to buy the entire package – the salacious along with the serious; the relentless political, religious, and social satire; the musical references to his heroes in the classical and rock worlds; the cynicism and ultimately encouraging humanism – in order to get the message. It’s all of one piece, one vision, and you can take it or leave it.
That struck me as a fine summation of the problems facing a classical music fan sitting through an evening of Zappa for the first time.  I suspect Frank wasn't really expressing "encouraging humanism" in the finale "Strictly Genteel" (Suite XIII).  I've always felt that the message of that tune was "everyone should get laid".  That notion is less humanistic and more Zappaistic.

In Disney Hall in 2013 at the end of this particular Green Umbrella concert, however, even the smallest droplet of humanism was grasped at and probably much appreciated by many in the audience.

Los Angeles Philharmonic performs Frank Zappa's 200 Motels - The Suites - October 23 2013

That Schott web site link I mentioned will also let you read the complete instrumentation list of 200 Motels - The Suites.  Frank asks for a lot of instruments.

The principal percussionist of the Philharmonic, Raynor Carroll, told me that this piece required him to provide the longest list of percussion instruments he had ever seen.  I learned elsewhere that there were 164 performers in total.  This figure would have been hard to verify independently because they were packed so tightly onto the stage.  And because there wasn't enough light on them.

To accommodate such a huge orchestra, the stage was completely flat instead of slightly raked.  This, along with the amplification of chorus and soloists, plus the mighty sound of all the percussion, made orchestra balances problematical.  In Strictly Genteel (Suite XIII) I noticed one familiar spot where 9 French horns and 4 trombones had trouble being heard.  It was a noisy evening.

There were plenty of quiet moments - for example music passages for three classical guitars.  Unfortunately, in both dress rehearsal and performance I found it was often hard to concentrate on the music because of the staging.  I felt that the music was often "covered" by the visuals.

Huge amounts of talent went into this production.  The most dazzling of all was that of Esa-Pekka Salonen who showed great courage by stepping outside his standard area of expertise in agreeing to conduct 200 Motels.  He kept things moving along and tightly focused far beyond what might have been expected.  He was almost too cool about it.  I hope he can conduct this piece again someday under conditions which will allow him to shape the music more carefully.  Curiously, at one of the rehearsals, he seemed to have trouble saying the name of Suite XII out loud.


The concert was obsessively recorded on audio but not video.  Each string player had an individual microphone.  We are told it will be for iTunes release.  I hope that does happen.

The Philharmonic, to their credit, provided every performer Frank asked for in his score except for one small group of boy sopranos.  They are marked "optional".  Their part was sung by actual adult sopranos.  I remember, when I worked for Frank, asking him whether he thought he'd get an orchestra to bring in children for so small part.  His memorable reply "It doesn't hurt to ask".

It's fair for us to wonder what Frank was thinking when he dared to write for such an impractical ensemble.  My guess is that he was thinking of all these instruments as a very large rock band.

In a 1966 interview (later published in the magazine Hit Parader) Frank described his perfect rock band.
The instrumentation of the ideal Mothers rock and roll band is two piccolos, two flutes, two bass flutes, two oboes, English horn, three bassoons, a contrabassoon, four clarinets (with the fourth player doubling on alto clarinet), bass clarinet, contrabass clarinet, soprano, alto, tenor, baritone and bass saxophones, four trumpets, four French horns, three trombones, one bass trombone, one tuba, one contrabass tuba, two harps, two keyboard men playing piano, electric piano, electric harpsichord, electric clavichord, Hammond organ, celeste, and piano bass, ten first violins, ten second violins, eight violas, six cellos, four string bass, four percussionists playing twelve timpani, chimes, gongs, field drums, bass drums, snare drums, woodblocks lion's roar, vibes, xylophone and marimba three electric guitars, one electric 12-string guitar, electric bass and electric bass guitar and two drummers at sets, plus vocalists who play tambourines. And I won't be happy until I have it. 
I was impressed that Frank's humongous rock and roll band functioned really well.  That was not so during his lifetime.  I've been told many times that at the infamous 1970 Pauley Pavilion concert and at the recording of 200 Motels - the Movie in England the moods were tense and the music imprecise.

In 2013 the LA Philharmonic players' mood was quite good and the musical precision was damn close to what the composer intended.  If Frank had witnessed something similar, especially in 1970, he might have mitigated his well known dislike of orchestra players.

These musicians actually did the crazy stage antics Frank wrote into the score (sadly these were hard to see because of the lighting).  They shouted out every last "blorp".  They also clowned around onstage before the music started, taking to heart their instruction to dress in concert black but with a disheveled look.  They did The Wave onstage.  When was the last time you saw that?  To be fair, many of them were probably quite relieved to see standard repertoire pieces on their music stands later in the week.

Frank Zappa in 1967 at Lumpy Gravy session - at the piano Mike Lang

Anyway, Frank wrote his music for his own fans.  He had plenty of fans.  And he had a good idea of what they liked.  The 1966 quote above continues:
I think people are entitled to hear that kind of music live. Kids would go to concerts if they could hear music that knocked them out. If the concert halls would change to a more modern programming, they would find the place crawling with kids. Something like this won't happen overnight and I know it. But I've studied my audiences carefully enough to see that we're making some headway in that direction.
Today Frank's audience remembers and misses him. They knew the significance of this event not as the tenth anniversary of a concert hall, but as the long overdue realization of an important work by a toweringly creative artist who has been dead for nearly 20 years.  The Zappa fans filled every available seat of Disney Hall for this event and they were loud and noisy.  Before the  music started I found myself wondering if someone would shout out "What's the secret word for tonight?" or maybe start a pile of panties on a corner of the stage.  These fans went home happy.

It's too late to develop the sort of orchestra music for the "kids" which Frank dreamed about in 1966.  Those kids were part of the baby boom generation.  Boomers, like me and presumably Rodney Punt, are all grown up now and we are set in our musical tastes.

It was fun to witness this concert and wonder what might have been.  I found the evening quite touching because, had Frank lived to see this (and had he stayed relaxed enough to let everyone do their jobs), he would have loved it.  At least I think he would; it was always impossible to predict what he might think about anything.

And so, at the end of 200 Motels - The Suites I found myself with tears in my eyes.  Not just at the concert but also at the dress rehearsal.  Not because this is emotional music (which it absolutely isn't) but because I was able to witness the work of someone I consider to be a great composer and creative spirit, someone I knew and respected and feel privileged to have worked for, finally taken seriously and performed with great precision by one of the foremost musical ensembles of our time.

One of the few rewards of getting old is the ability to see how history turns out.  I personally am interested in tracking how music history gets written, how it develops a cultural memory of some of the people, like Frank, whom I have known.

Frank Zappa created his own unique music, sometimes baffling and bizarre, other times exciting and electrifying.  This event is a major milestone in our collective efforts to place him and his music in the ongoing chronicle of music.  It was an honor to witness this concert.

Los Angeles Philharmonic performs Frank Zappa's 200 Motels - The Suites - October 23 2013 - curtainless calls




Yet more comments which I couldn't work into the above essay:

200 Motels - The Suites was performed a few days later with different forces, without the staging, at the Royal Festival Hall in London.  Frank had wanted to perform 200 Motels in 1971 at the Royal Albert Hall, but the concert was canceled by authorities because it was thought to be "about sex".  That was pretty much true.  On November 9, 2013, the RFH concert will be broadcast online.  (Try this link.)

Also this week, another piece of Franks, Bogus Pomp, which is derived from some of the 200 Motels music, received a rare performance.  The Montreal Symphony Orchestra was led by Kent Nagano who led the premiere in England in 1983.  Here's a review.  That was one of the pieces I worked on during the years I was employed by Frank.

Hila Plitmann was the soprano in the L.A. performance and she stood out by a mile.  Frank, I think, would have loved her because she sang the music exceptionally well and she can act.  And also because she took off most of her clothes on stage.

Morris Robinson, the bass soloist, had a wonderful voice but a much smaller part.  His part cracked me up when in Penis Dimension (Suite XII) he sang a very low, slow rendition of the theme from Lumpy Gravy.  The old black and white picture of Frank Zappa is, I think, from the Lumpy Gravy sessions in 1967 at which point he must have been working on 200 Motels music.  The pianist in that picture is Mike Lang, who I saw at the 200 Motels concert.

"You donated money for THIS?"  The concert program had this line: This evening's performance is supported in part by a generous gift from Christian and Sutton Stracke.   Let's all give those two a big round of thanks.

The two actors who were identically made up to look like Frank really did remind me of him.  They were skinny enough (i.e. very skinny) and their hair looked just right.  However, when sitting onstage watching quietly, something Frank really did during rock concerts, he would have been smoking a cigarette.  The actors should have been sucking on a glowing e-cigarette. The Mark character (or was it Howard) did that at one point.  Frank should have also.  Then again, that might have been just too eerie.

Thanks to Charles Ulrich for locating the "ideal Mothers rock and roll band" quote.

The LA Philharmonic Facebook page is the source of most of these pictures.  The picture of the score of Tuna Sandwich Ballet came from here.

ADDENDA

At the end of the 1960's interview quoted above, Frank talked about how the Mothers created their musical sets:
Each set that we do is conceived of as one continuous piece of music, like an opera. Even the dialogue between numbers is part of it. Some of our sets run an hour and a half, when we get carried away. That's about opera length.
Kent Nagano said (from here):
History will be kind to Frank Zappa.



Did you skip to the end?  Here's a selection of other Mixed Meters posts you may not have time to read either.

About Frank Zappa:
Zappa Symphonies (that would be Francesco Zappa, mostly)
Frank Zappa and Alcohol (Zappa beer and orchestra musicians who drank)
Frank Zappa's Jukebox (not a great compilation)
Out To Lunch (aka Ben Watson)
Paradise, Pomp and Puppets - Performing Zappa's Orchestra Music (a long one)
Lower Case Zappa  (a short one)
Varese, Zappa and Slonimsky (an early one)
(all MM posts tagged "Frank Zappa" - click here)

About Music Critics
David Ocker, Boy Music Critic (mostly about Domenico Scarlatti)
Combining Four Letter Words: Oboe + Blog
Rich Critic, Poor Critic (that would have been Alan Rich)
Two Marks of Good Music Criticism (one Mark would be Swed)
Who is Philip Hensher Anyway?  (he's English, I know that)
30 Second Spots - The Manuscripts Ends Abruptly, Scherzo for Danny Cariaga
(all MM posts tagged "reviewers" - click here)

Friday, August 31, 2007

Dog's Balls and Elizabethan Collars

We're not quite sure what make of dog Chowderhead is. Obviously he's got a lot of Chow in him. But he also must have inherited the retriever gene. He seems to really enjoy running after thrown balls and bringing them back after slobbering on them. He produces lots of slobber.

Here's a filmstrip of Chowderhead and his ball in our backyard. The pictures enlarge if you click on them. Especially the last one with his purple tongue and dirty ball.

Chowderhead's ball 1 'Where'd it go?' - (c) David OckerChowderhead's ball 2 'I'm getting close' - (c) David OckerChowderhead's ball 3 'I got it!!' - (c) David OckerChowderhead's ball 4 'Here I come' - (c) David OckerChowderhead slobbers on the ball 5 'That's good dirt' - (c) David Ocker
You'll notice Chowderhead is wearing a fetching plastic collar. This is to prevent him from trying to lick his balls and I don't mean his rubber ones.

Of course if he didn't have the collar he couldn't lick them anyway - because they've been removed by our vet. The operation is called an orchidectomy and the collar is called an Elizabethan Collar (not a "lampshade collar" as I might have guessed.) I suppose it reminds people of the collars worn by people when an Elizabeth was Queen of England. Like this woman, who would have called it a "Ruff" (which is what Chowderhead calls it.)


Poor Chowderhead. I felt his pain. Well. I imagined the pain he would have felt if he had the slightest notion of what had happened to him.

Strangely I couldn't find a single woman who would agree with me when I expressed my empathy for Chowderhead's loss. Men and women seem to view the issue differently.

This man started a successful business (and won a prize) by allowing male dogs to keep up appearances. I bet a huge percentage of his clients' owners are male and most of the Ignoble judges are not.

Anyway, the last picture is of Chowderhead's little head -- which we aren't likely to be seeing quite as often in the future. (This was taken in his indoor cage. You can click to ... oh forget it.)

Chowderhead's Penis (c) David Ocker
Want to see more penis shots? Here's the website of the Phallological Museum in Iceland. (Just go straight to the Images section.) Here's a link to a tourist's photo of some specimens from that museum. (Leslie sent this to me.)

Read previous Mixed Meters mentions of the word penis here (several have a little bit to do with music.) Here's a post entitled Gender Marketing (it's about driveways.)

Here's a good page for pictures of Elizabethan ruffs.

And here are pictures of contemporary Elizabethan ruffs by artist Jesse Mathes

The Neuticles website.

The picture of Countess Frances Howard, born 1590 who managed to divorce her husband on the basis of his impotence, comes from Sex in Elizabethan England by Alan Haynes

Ball Tags: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .