BijouBlog

Me playing my sister's wedding

 

Besides the love of men and their physical attributes, I have also loved another organ... the Theater Organ! It is also quite a coincidence that both loves started around the same time... at age 13.

Naturally, right as I started my teens my hormones were in overdrive. I remember having a hard-on for most of the day... starting with the "Morning Wood!" Most of the time in school I walked through the hallways with my books in front of me to hide the raging truth! Lol. So, I guess this was a good thing for later on in life as that became an asset!

Meanwhile, at age 13, I awoke one Sunday morning to the sight of a large truck parked in front of our house in West Deal, N.J. On the sides of it was proudly painted "Hammond Organ of Asbury Park." At this age I would have been taking piano lessons on and off for the past six years. Immediately, something told me that my mother and father had purchased an organ. My father was prone to impulse buys... but, this took it to a whole other level!

So, after the rap on the front door I let in the two delivery gentlemen who started to prepare their route through the front and into the living room. In one corner of the living room already sat a beautiful Mason & Hamlin Baby Grand that my father and I both played. Directly across from it in the other corner was to sit a beautiful Hammond A-102... the French Provincial self-contained version of the famous Hammond B-3! (The cabinet choice gave evidence that my mother was involved in the selection. Everything in the house was French Provincial. Hey, it was the 60s!)

As the deliverymen were finishing up, my parents arrived on the scene to find me picking away at both keyboards (manuals) and the pedalboard! I took to it like a duck to water. I never looked back at the piano seriously again. My parents seemed pleased at my "adjustment!"

The 60s and 70s were strong decades for the home organ industry. By the 80s it was a thing of the past and so were many of the manufacturers. I remained determined and connected to the instrument. Unfortunately, my family did not enjoy the prosperity that they had in the early 60s and the organ was sold. :( !

Fast forward to the late 70s and my move to San Francisco. Although my first partner and I lived in a very modest one-bedroom apartment in the South of Market neighborhood, I managed to shoehorn a sizable Conn 651 3 manual theater model into the tiny living room right across from my DJ mixing console that I built and shoehorned into that same living room. (I rehearsed all of this by living in a small apartment in The Village in NYC!) The abovementioned Conn organ had always been on my wish list. I purchased it with some "Pin Money" from a porn movie that I had made.

The My Conn 651 “shoehorned” into our 10th St. Apt. in SOMA

The Conn 651 in my first solo apt. in the Castro (1990)

 

So, I kept that organ until I left S.F. in 1991. I sold it back to the priest from whom I bought it originally! I was sad to see it go. It was really the first of my dreams to come true. I moved to the East Coast from S.F. and a smaller version of that Conn was to follow shortly... a Conn Theaterette.

Most astonishingly and unexpectedly, I got a job in a music store selling pianos and organs shortly after I arrived on the East Coast. Knowing the basic elements of music allowed me to teach beginners on these keyboard products. I stayed with the company for four years until I got the itch to live in South Beach, Florida! The Theaterette was sold to a dear friend that still has it!

One of the organs I sold and its proud owner! Bill and I became long time friends.

Here I am at Bill's organ giving an after dinner concert!

 

Fast forward again. This time it is 2000. After meeting my current Husband in NYC and living together in his apartment until 1999, I bought a Lowrey Spinet for our first house in Santa Fe. A second (but 3 manual) Conn Theaterette became available and I scooped it up! The two sat side by side in a larger living room. It wasn't too long after that I found another full-sized console Conn 651 - this time with a Leslie speaker!

Two Conn Theater organs, one in the living room and “mini me” in the den!

To be continued...

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted career and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model and film performer. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

 

"Like something out of a Greek tragedy (or Clash of the Titans), a naked man lies spread-eagled on his stomach on the center of a ceremonial plaza. The Falconhead appears out of nowhere, clad in black robes that look oddly medieval, and presents an ornately framed mirror to the prostrate man, pushing his face into it with his shiny black boots. Text flashes, "He gazed into the mirror and was consumed by it."
 

So begins Michael Zen's Falconhead (1977), a richly complex film that “features a fearsome bird-headed man with magical powers, a possibly nefarious shaman/landlord, stunningly photographed solo sequences, deliciously ambiguous sexual violence, and lots of gooey, gooey cum eating.”

The man with the head of a falcon character derives from so many cultures. The ancient Egyptian god Horus was usually depicted as a falcon-headed man, wearing the red and white crown which represented his kingship over both Upper and Lower Egypt. Horus was the son of Osiris and Isis, both associated with the cycles of birth, death, and the afterlife.
 

In ancient Egypt, falcons (also known as raptors) represented the soul in the afterlife. In fact, the falcons themselves were even mummified, and recently, some scholars have found evidence that the birds were sacrificed to the gods, or even used in falconry, where young birds are trained to hunt prey.

In the medieval period, falconry became a widespread cultural practice among the nobility, but some of its practices were extremely cruel, including temporarily blinding the birds (the gruesome details are elucidated in the hyperlink above), which made them easier to train.
 

The practice, however, lost popularity in Europe because of the widespread usage of guns and gunpowder. In Britain among some of the gentry the practice survived, and these individuals formed a series of clubs that kept the art alive, leading eventually to the modern development of falconry in Europe, North America and Africa.
 

There are so many elements in the above of terrifying power, sacrifice and cruelty, but also beauty and awe. Birds of course can fly, and this action has always inspired humans to think about power and its limits, the Icarus myth being the most well-known one.

And falcons in all their variety, who soar in the sky, are carnivorous creatures, who hunt for earthbound prey, the creeping things in the creation account in Genesis. Yet, at the same time, humans have attempted to tame, even confine, this energy through the art of falconry.
 

It's like this type of bird represents for humans a boundary breaker, someone who can brave the wide gaps between heaven and earth, nature and art, life and death.

Perhaps in the mirror the falcon-headed man presents to the prostrate man, we see ourselves consumed by what seems to be our own physical sexual power, but ultimately, it's a power given to us by a natural, or even supernatural force that encompasses, in fact, thrives on, extremes in order to not just survive, but triumph.

The falcon-headed man is the endless orgasm of life and death; we can imitate it, mirror it, but our life is a disconnected series of gooey cumshots in the sublunary earth. The men are consumed; but he burns like that famous bush, not consumed.
 

The poet Yeats proclaims in his famous poem, The Second Coming, that in a time of crisis “the falcon can no longer hear the falconer;” in these times, perhaps, we have lost the seismic energy that charges body and spirit together in a dynamic relationship. I see this line as implying that falconer cannot bond with the falcon; he has stopped up his conduit to the falcon's awesome energy he was able to tap into.

Thus, all that's left, as in the famous line at the end of the poem, is the “rude beast slouching toward Bethlehem waiting to be born,” a dead life devoid of creativity, passion, and love.

Quotes from the Falconhead review by DM at BijouWorld.
 

Posted by Madam Bubby

Vinyl is still around and actually thriving, especially in indie music and hipster circles, but I the same revival hasn't quite happened for the VHS, which means those old video tapes one sees in thrift stores may end up in landfills or supporting window air conditioners.

According to this source, Japan's Funai Electric, who claimed to be the last VCR manufacturer, stopped producing the machines several years ago, in July of 2016. This source also gives a brief history of the medium, which for readers of a certain age, will certainly bring back memories.

Beta tapes? Wow. I remember my Dad got every James Bond movie he could find on Beta. Yes, Beta, which did not last. What happened to all those Beta tapes?

And those bulky cameras. People started to get really obsessed with them, I remember, at least initially, and this before the days of easy selfies and youtube videos. Want a movie of someone eating mashed potatoes at a 1980s christening celebration? It's on a VHS tape, and probably now remastered digitally and streaming somewhere on youtube.

 

Some even attributed the supposed narcissism of Generation X and millenials to this phenomenon. Hey, can I see the tape of me when I was four throwing water balloons at the next door neighbor? Or how about when I got ten Atari video games for Christmas when I was ten and threw a tantrum (captured for time immemorial) because my brother got a more expensive one?

Digital hoarding perhaps started with the VCR. There was the woman on the show Hoarders taping constantly on a multitude of TVs. Think walls of tapes. Her son said, well, I guess if you want a Phil Donahue show from the 1980s, this is the place to go.

 

Of course, the advent of this medium totally revolutionized the porn industry. Instead of having to go to a porn theater like Chicago's late, great Bijou Theater, one could rent and even buy tapes and watch porn at home. Or even tape amateur porn. Porn creators made a killing for a while on these often very expensive tapes, but now with streaming and youtube, the sex exists in cyberspace rather than captured on a concrete medium like a VHS tape.

 

Will VHS make a comeback? Some grassroots indie artists and retro collectors may be rediscovering the medium (and also the major consumer movie format before video, Super 8 film). Is it the appeal of retro, or some other specific component of the medium? Time may tell.

I got blocked on Twitter a while ago by a Roman Catholic bishop because I responded to a tweet about Michelangelo with a pretty general article on the sexuality of the famous artist Michelangelo. Michelangelo was gay. He liked guys. Especially guys with big muscles.
 

Now, during the Renaissance, the concept of sexual orientation had yet to be articulated or analyzed. Thus, Michelangelo, according to the social and religious norms of the time (usually the same), either performed sex acts with men (called sodomy due to an interpretation of the Sodom and Gomorrah story since deemed incorrect by current Biblical scholarship), and/or, perhaps more loosely, he loved men, young men (which does not necessarily imply sexual activity).

In this case, art imitates life, and Michelangelo, aiming to produce what he deemed to be an ideal mimesis of the body as revealing a primal strength and power coursing through creation, painted male bodies that rival the famous bodybuilders of the past, without the artificial steroid-induced bulk. (And even the women in the Sistine Chapel are muscular.)
 

This unabashed glorying in muscular nudes under the aegis of a commission to paint the Sistine Chapel ended up becoming a problem. Why? The Counter-Reformation not only reacted to the Reformation, but to some of what it deemed licentious excesses of the Renaissance, and much Catholic religious art ended up degenerating into fixed forms drawn in attitudes of pious sentiment. Hello, anemic Jesuses with bleeding hearts and heavily draped Madonnas gazing up at the clouds.

And, in the case of Michelangelo’s paintings, the Church authorities covered up the genitalia.

But, as one article I read recently reveals, Michelangelo’s Last Judgement shows that just covering up genitals does not literally erase any imagery that might induce those impure thoughts that might send one to hell.

In the midst of the Last Judgment, where a muscular beardless Christ resembling Apollo looks like he is a bad ass coming to whale on a rival gang, two men kiss. Mutually and fearlessly. (Even his mother is frightened.) And these are not the ones condemned to hell. These are two guys on the redeemed side, as opposed to, as the article claims, a reputed pedophile biting his genitals to hell.
 

Now, the men kissing need not imply sexual attraction, of course, depending on the cultural context. They could even be family members displaying affection. But it’s there, it’s there for the homosocial gaze, and I just wonder if Michelangelo was himself encoding, as it were, his own Last Judgement against a Counter-Reformation Church that viewed humanity as more fallen and sinful rather than filled with a holy energy that includes struggle and conflict but also surmounts it with a hope for a final vindication.