A tattooed person suspends from hooks, laying flat, one leg higher than the other. Their head is back, and they seem to be smiling, dark hair dangling like an anime character.

Author: BME

  • Dick Zigun Interview – Through the Modified Looking Glass

    NOTE: If you’re reading this on Wednesday, March 17th, then you can
    watch The Lizardman on TechTV tonight when he’s the guest on UNSCREWED!


    Dick Zigun

    “Whatever you do, do it with all your might. Work at it, early and late, in season and out of season, not leaving a stone unturned, and never deferring for a single hour that which can be done just as well now.”

    P.T. Barnum


    Dick Zigun is the man. No, not that man, not the one that’s been holding you down all these years. He’s the good kind. Dick is the driving, some might say whip-cracking, force that helps keeps sideshow alive at Coney Island. He is an ever present icon at Sideshows by the Seashore overseeing daily operations and even taking part in the cast when needed as a talker. If you’ve caught any of the many sideshow documentaries and programs that have often graced basic cable networks such as Discovery and TLC in the last half dozen years then you have likely seen Dick acting as spokesman for Coney Island — and he is eminently qualified to do so.

    I first met Dick Zigun when I did a guest appearance at Coney Island in 2002. And, at the risk of tarnishing his otherwise gruff reputation, I have to say that what impressed me most was how incredibly welcome he made me feel. Talking with Dick and working with his cast, I had never before felt so good and reassured about myself and the path I had chosen.

    But, I don’t want to risk ruining his reputation any further, so let’s meet Dick Zigun!


    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Beginning with the usual interview formalities…

    DICK ZIGUN:
    I am founder and Artistic Director of Coney Island, USA, a non-profit arts organization dating from 1980 whose purpose “is to defend the honor of American popular culture through innovative performances and exhibitions.”

    I was born May 11, 1953 in Bridgeport, CT. PT Barnum was mayor, developer, and patron saint of Bridgeport. He built his houses there and had the winter headquarters of the circus there. He bought up the shorefront (which was the front yard of his second house) and left that property and others to the city for parks. There is a big beach with a statue of Barnum. To grow up in Bridgeport is to think that elephants and midgets are patriotic and all-American.

    During the big Barnum Festival each summer (month long, largest 4th of July parade in USA during the 1950’s, car show, air show, 5th graders impersonating midgets, etc.) the local paper is full of biographical info on Barnum and Tom Thumb, who was born and lived a few doors from my grammar school. I was a Barnum scholar before I was a teenager.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    You have an impressive pedigree academically and professionally (Bennington, Yale) and many notable connections in the art world — so why sideshow?

    DICK ZIGUN:


    I was a scholarship student for a BA at Bennington College (when it was the most expensive college in the world in the early 70’s) and again a scholarship student for the 3 year MFA program at Yale School of Drama. Back then there were no books and no classes on sideshows or vaudeville or burlesque… not at my schools and not at any schools.

    As a Bridgeport guy out to defend American theatrical traditions I was an oddball, a rebel, and a pioneer. I was writing plays about ventriloquists wanting to kill Thomas Edison — things like that. Right out of Yale School of Drama I was produced in the regional theater movement I had been trained for but not happy typecast as an edgy experimental playwright doomed forever to producing new plays in regional theater second spaces for the hoity-toity blue haired ladies.

    In 1979 I was having a play produced at the Mark Taper Forum in LA… grooving on the beach and thinking that LA was the capital of America… but set on living in New York City which is the capital of the world and the only place someone serious about theater can earn a living. Another play being produced at the same time in LA was KID TWIST by Len Jenkin about the Murder Inc. stool pigeon thrown out the hotel window in Coney Island. I went back again and again to see the play and Coney Island intellectually struck me as a way to live the beach lifestyle in NYC.

    Then I was visiting the Santa Monica pier and epiphany struck when I saw an arcade building for rent. I vowed to go back to Coney Island and check out loft space. One thing lead to another and by 1985 I opened a theater/arts center on the Boardwalk called Sideshows by the Seashore. Sideshows are the most indigenous theatrical tradition in my chosen neighborhood so it was only natural to create a program where we would be the only place left in America to keep alive the ten-in-one.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    You are noticeably tattooed (your sleeves) with work by notable artists – tell us about your tattoo work and the artists responsible.

    DICK ZIGUN:
    Running an arts center has given me the opportunity to bring a lot of American underground culture into the mainstream by virtue of being a known arts center in NYC that sends out press releases, puts on public advertised shows, and organizes artists to present things. We not only pioneered the new sideshow movement but also helped to create the new burlesque movement, and within NYC (which tattooing was illegal in and no one was producing an annual tattoo show) helped to bring tattoos out of the underground.

    Our first tattoo/motorcycle show was in 1986. I was producing a tattoo show, hanging out with tattooed people, making money off of tattooed people, and was good friends with Michael Wilson… I thought long and hard for ten years about myself and whether I would spend my life employing freaky people but remaining a standoffish academic type. So in 1996, after ten years of over-intellectualizing, I came up with this: four limbs equals: earth, water, fire, air.

    I got my first tattoo, on stage, in the street, in front of the police captain when tattooing was still illegal in NYC and everyone could hear me scream. Spider Webb tattooed my right arm which is “water”. Camille Cline, spider’s protégé, did my left arm which is air. Dragonfly, another spider protégé, is working on my right leg which is fire. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    At what point did you begin getting tattooed in relation to your association with sideshow?

    DICK ZIGUN:
    Michael Wilson, with his debut in Modern Primitives, had a lot to do with introducing post-modern tattoos and piercings to America. When Michael first worked here no one since Jack Dracula had publicly exhibited a tattoo face… some 20-25 years. It was a big deal and since pierced tongues were also unusual in the 1980’s it was a big deal when Michael would hammer a nail thru his tongue. Now every suburban teenage girl in American has a pierced tongue.

    When I first came to Coney Island I was an outsider artist type and my education and non-Brooklyn accent enamored me to the locals as a spokesman for Coney. It would have been difficult back then if I was heavily tattooed but now I’ve become some kind of Coney Island institution and as long as I stay alive and articulate it doesn’t matter much what I do… well, maybe it would matter if I tattooed my face.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    You have known and worked with a number of people who were heavily tattooed (including probably more facially tattooed modern performers than anyone else). Has this changed your perception of tattooing, or facial tattooing? Ever considered going that route yourself?

    DICK ZIGUN:
    Knowing and loving and respecting so many heavily tattooed people helped me accept the idea of inking myself. I can see myself with a total bodysuit but not facial or hand tattoos. I am an old-style kind of guy. My job is to be the producer and director and spokesman. I am not one of the performers. Since I am always hanging around the place my tattooed sleeves help in that I am another freaky looking staff person. But as a spokesman it is best that the audience more or less identify with me as one of them and not one of the extreme freaks.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Do you think that sideshow has helped or hindered the popular view of heavily modified people (such as those with facial tattooing)?

    DICK ZIGUN:
    Without question the sideshow movement has helped the popular view of heavily modified people. A few decades ago a Michael Wilson or Lizardman or Enigma would have been stoned walking down the average small town American street… now you all are famous TV celebrities.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    What societal role do you see sideshow playing in the future? What does it provide?

    DICK ZIGUN:
    Sideshows have reintegrated themselves into American culture. You see sideshow influence in rock videos, in advertising, in fashion. I am proud to have a role in moving sideshow culture from the margins back into the mainstream, where it belongs. America used to have an inferiority complex about its own culture: sideshows, burlesque, vaudeville.

    We used to be embarrassed not proud of our populist culture. Everything used to be Eurocentric and that was boring and elitist. Artists especially are now free to use American culture as history and influence without freaking out their professors or getting kicked out of school, galleries, and museums. Nevertheless, not I nor Jim Rose nor the Bindlestiffs have made big money out of producing sideshows. It only goes so far.

    I’d like to see it go farther and I’d like to see sideshows make more money — especially since we need to institutionalize the arts center in Coney Island, now that Coney Island is developing fast and taking off. We are renters and not owners and our lease in up in two years. We need to fund this place and the history that has taken place here since the 1980’s or else we will lose it.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Coney Island now offers a sideshow school — tell us about that.

    DICK ZIGUN:
    Of course there is a lot of interest in sideshow acts by a new generation of circus idiots for the 21st century… and there is a lot of bad info out there in books and on websites about how to learn and master the sideshow arts which are dangerous!!! So since we are a non-profit educational institution we decided we would be the very first school which taught the arts the right way.

    It helps us earn money for our programs and it helps eager sideshow amateurs learn how to stay out of the hospital.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    With over two decades experience you have been working the sideshow longer than many of its current fans and hopeful future stars have been alive. What would you suggest they consider or do before taking their first steps or preparatory measures before beginning training at the school or elsewhere?

    DICK ZIGUN:
    I am amazed how casually some people tattoo their faces or do extreme body modification these days. Used to be that someone would get a tattooed bodysuit first and then consider the face but these days some kids start with the face.

    Frankly, although a lot of brilliant committed people get facial tattoos, a lot of others are “no future” crusty heroin junky types who just don’t care about next year or even what tomorrow brings. Fine if that’s your chosen lifestyle, fine but sad… but if you’re gonna be a professional in a sideshow then you need to show up for work on time every day and act sober — junkies don’t get jobs on payroll at Sideshows by the Seashore.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Given your experiences would you recommend others attempt a similar path?

    DICK ZIGUN:
    If it is a “labor of love” and you just gotta do it, then sure, I’ll not only recommend it but be your mentor and give you advice (up to a point; don’t need more competitors). Ain’t no one gonna get rich doing sideshows and the trials and tribulations will mess with your family life and love life and make your life hard but very, very interesting.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    What does the word ‘freak’ mean to you?

    DICK ZIGUN:
    Freak used to be a pejorative, a bad word. Now it’s a badge of honor. People wanna be a freak. Freaks have freedom; freaks are not like everyone else. Freaks are cool.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Is there any act that you have always wanted for the show but never got?

    DICK ZIGUN:
    Siamese Twins. A perfectly proportioned 3 foot high midget. A 9 foot tall giant. The real missing link. Hell, even a sideshow celeb like the Lizardman working for me at minimum wage for an entire summer. I better keep dreaming…

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Say whatever you want.

    DICK ZIGUN:





    Erik Sprague

    because the world NEEDS freaks…

    Former doctoral candidate and philosophy degree holder Erik Sprague, the Lizardman (iam), is known around the world for his amazing transformation from man to lizard as well as his modern sideshow performance art. Need I say more?

    Copyright © 2004 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published March 17th, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.



  • Who Was Doug Malloy? [Running The Gauntlet – By Jim Ward]


    Who Was
    Doug Malloy?

    part one

    Doug Malloy was what an acquaintance of mine called the “nom de kinque” of a wealthy Hollywood businessman named Richard Simonton. I was given to understand that Malloy was his mother’s maiden name. Being an Irish name, I can’t help thinking one of his forebears must have kissed the Blarney stone, for Doug had a remarkable flair for telling a story, and if it wasn’t exactly true, it didn’t particularly matter to him as long as the tale was a good one. Consequently I can’t guarantee the accuracy of everything that Doug told me about himself or about the history of piercing for that matter. But he told wonderful stories, and the fact that many of them persist despite a lack of any supporting evidence says much for his ability to capture our imaginations.



    Doug in the Muzak offices in Hollywood.

    I know little about his youth. From an early interview it appears he was born in Chicago and his family moved to the Seattle area when he was about three. By the time the Depression hit in 1929, he would have been in his early teens. I gathered the family wasn’t exactly affluent. Eventually he ended up in Southern California and his fortunes began to change. In the early 40s he struck a lucrative deal with Muzak, the ubiquitous background music company, which gave him control over the southwestern quarter of the country. It made him a very rich man.

    Doug was quite interested in things metaphysical. He had been a personal friend of Ernest Holmes (1887–1960) author of The Science of Mind and the founder of the Religious Science movement. Thanks in no small part to Holmes’ influence, he was very much a believer in what became known as the “power of positive thinking.”

    He also believed in reincarnation. According to Doug it explained not only things like prodigies, but also why some people became passionate about things like body piercing. This, he claimed, was his own case. He remembered a past life during which he had been a highly placed courtier in the entourage of Egyptian pharaoh Akhenaton.

    Supposedly navel piercing was common amongst the aristocracy but forbidden to the lower classes. Doug claimed that the piercing could be seen in statuary, but try as I might I was unable to see it in the photos which he showed me. Within the last 50 years scientists have been able to construct an extremely clear and accurate picture of Egyptian life dating back several thousand years. To date I am unaware of any evidence having been discovered that would substantiate Doug’s claim.

    Meanwhile back in ancient Egypt, Doug’s ancient self had a jealous rival at court who arranged to have him murdered. This left a karmic debt that the rival was attempting to repay in Doug’s present incarnation. From time to time the “Little Man” as he was called would appear and offer Doug advice and occasionally make predictions. I know of at least one that wasn’t accurate. Doug was told he’d live to the year 2000. Maybe by some antiquated calendar. At least by our calendar he was off by nearly 25 years.



    Doug walking in his back yard at the edge of Toluca Lake.

    Doug had an incredible home in the San Fernando Valley. Allegedly he had been told psychically to start construction on it even before he’d amassed the fortune necessary to complete it. It was in an area called Toluca Lake, named after the small body of water on the edge of which the house was being built. To the best of my knowledge there is no public access to the lake itself because it is completely surrounded by homes. Warner Brothers studio is a short distance to the East. Doug’s neighbors included Bob Hope, Olivia de Haviland, and Walt Disney’s brother Roy.




    Left: Doug’s living room with its church-style organ,
    Right: Doug, circa 1950, with a theater organ pipe in his hand.

    From the street, the house itself was not particularly impressive. It appeared to be a modest, modern, one-level box. But inside it was a marvel. There was an atrium with a roof that could be retracted. The house had not one, but two pipe organs. One was a church-style organ in the living room. A narrow spiral staircase lead down to a small, 99-seat theater in which there was a fully restored Wurlitzer theater organ dating from the 1920’s. During the silent movie days it had graced a Paramount Studio sound stage. Doug’s interest in theater organs inspired him to found the American Theater Organ Society in 1955.



    Doug in his theater projection booth.

    The theater was equipped with state of the art projection and recording facilities. On several occasions a few other Tattoo & Piercing group members and I were invited to join some of Doug’s other friends for private showings in the theater.

    Doug had been a very close friend of the comedy film star of silent movie fame, Harold Lloyd. When Harold died in 1971, Doug was the executor of his estate. This gave him access to all of Harold’s old films.

    Another close friend was an old theater organist named Gaylord Carter. Quite naturally things came together for showings of several Harold Lloyd silent films accompanied live by Carter. These were truly once-in-a-lifetime experiences, and I’ll never forget them.

    Doug’s interests were many and varied. In addition to organs, he had a passion for steamboats. In 1957 he and his family took a trip on the Mississippi riverboat the Delta Queen. On learning that the company was about to go under and this was to be its final season, Doug purchased controlling interest in the company in 1958. With his entrepreneurial skills he quickly turned it into a highly profitable enterprise.

    I was not fortunate enough to have met Doug at the height of his prowess. A few years previously he had sustained brain damage from an event which nearly killed him. This had effected his ability to express himself. He confided in me that he had once been “an eloquent speaker” and was actually planing to pursue a political career when it all came to an abrupt end. The experience also forced him to take things easier and freed him to indulge his other great passion, body piercing.

    During one of our many conversations Doug confided in me that had he been born at a later time he would probably have been gay. But he was born at a time when such a lifestyle could easily make anyone an outcast. He had ambitions, and he also believed that he and the members of his family had been together in a past incarnation. It was important that he provide the means for all of them to incarnate together once again.



    Although not common today, Doug preferred to wear a large ring in his frenum piercing, sized to encircle his penis. He claimed that some men liked to sleep with their finger through the ring. Notice his Hafada.

    Right: Doug’s Guiche.

    Shortly before we met, Doug had written a short autobiography of his piercing exploits entitled The Adventures of a Piercing Freak (click the link to read it). He had subsequently sold the article to a publisher of fetish magazines who issued it in soft cover under the title The Art of Pierced Penises and Decorative Tattoos. Since body piercing was virtually unknown at the time, the publisher was hard pressed to find suitable images to accompany the text. Consequently the photographs used had nothing to do with the story.

    Piercing Freak could hardly be described as great literature. It is told in a bold style with a certain hyper-masculine bravado. Although I think it largely failed, it was clearly intended as “one-handed reading” for a primarily gay fetish market. Fantastic as parts of it are, Doug insisted the story was true. It’s difficult to believe it was commonplace for divers to use Prince Albert rings to attach an external catheter or that there was actually a college organization of Jewish men advocating Dydoe piercings to restore sensation for circumcised males.

    Doug did author, to some extent, promotional material for Gauntlet and articles for Gauntlet’s magazine Piercing Fans International Quarterly. The truth is I was the ghostwriter for these working from notes that he provided. One of the first promotional pieces we did was a flyer entitled “Body & Genital Piercing in Brief(click the link to read it). It contained short histories and descriptions of a dozen piercings Doug considered “traditional.” I drew the illustrations to accompany them. The piercings included were:

    • Nipple
    • Navel
    • Prince Albert
    • Dydoe
    • Ampallang
    • Apadravya
    • Frenum
    • Hafada
    • Guiche
    • Foreskin
    • Labia
    • Clitoris

    Of particular interest is the fact that, with the exception of the navel, all of these piercings have a largely sexual purpose. This reflects Doug’s primary interest in body piercing as a means of enhancing erotic sensation.

    The impact the “Piercing Brief” has had is phenomenal. It was widely distributed and reprinted and contained many of the colorful myths that persist and, to some extent have been widely accepted as fact. There has never been any proof to substantiate, among other things that:

    1. Roman Centurians wore nipple rings to which they attached short capes.
    2. Navel piercings were a sign of royalty in ancient Egypt.
    3. Beau Brummell and Prince Albert had their penises pierced.
    4. Arab boys had the side of their scrotums pierced at puberty.
    5. Male South Pacific islanders did the Guiche piercing.

    The evidence on which Doug based his Roman Centurians claim was a Baroque statue he’d seen in Versailles. He showed me a photograph. I pointed out to him that Roman military men frequently wore metal breastplates sometimes sculpted to resemble a muscular male chest. The rings with cape attached were in the breastplate, not the man. Doug paused for a moment to ponder my observation, then replied, “Well, it makes a good story anyway.”

    There are actually very few body piercings which have a documented history. The most extensively written about is the Ampallang, which at one time was fairly common in the areas surrounding the Indian Ocean. There is one sole reference to the Apadravya that I am aware of and it is in the Kama Sutra. Doug maintained that the Ampallang was horizontal through the head of the penis and the Apadravya vertical. Piercer and researcher Paul King of Cold Steel in San Francisco maintains that the piercings are in fact one and the same and that either one could be oriented in either direction. Whatever the facts, most piercing enthusiasts have accepted Doug’s designation.

    Less extensively documented are foreskin piercings. We do know that they were performed as part of a procedure called infibulation. Usually it was done to male slaves as a means of enforcing chastity. Women with pierced labia can also be infibulated though the documentation of the procedure is scarce.

    I sometimes wonder if people into piercing today have any deep appreciation of the tremendous impact Doug Malloy has had on their lives. Certainly he had predecessors and contemporaries equally as passionate about piercing as he, but what was it that made him the center from which the whole modern piercing movement sprang?



    A happy Doug wearing an airbrushed T-shirt made for him by tattooist Cliff Raven. Over his right nipple are the letters DMMP which stood for “Doug Malloy, Master Piercer.” Over the left nipple is IIPPI. The letters stood for “If it protrudes, pierce it.”

    I think there are several reasons. For one, no one before him had ever presented such a broad palette of piercing possibilities complete with history and lore. It didn’t matter that he probably made up a lot of it, if not the piercings themselves. He’d at least done enough experimentation on himself to have some sense of their feasibility. This made it possible for him to speak with a confidence that leant great credibility to what he said. It didn’t hurt that it was a message a lot of people were waiting to hear whether they realized it or not.

    It was also fortunate that Doug didn’t pursue his passion completely in private. Although he was extremely secretive about it, particularly with his family and non-kinky friends, he nonetheless reached out to other piercing enthusiasts who would go on to spread his message.

    Finally, regardless of how primitive they might have been, Doug had formulated some basic but usable piercing techniques that, for the most part, could be applied by anyone.

    If you combine all these elements with his good fortune of being in the right place at the right time, you can begin to see the seed that would grow into the modern piercing movement and appreciate how Doug vastly enriched your life.

    Next: Gauntlet’s Jewelry Design Legacy


    Jim Ward is is one of the cofounders of body piercing as a public phenomena in his role both as owner of the original piercing studio Gauntlet and the original body modification magazine PFIQ, both long before BME staff had even entered highschool. He currently works as a designer in Calfornia where he lives with his partner.

    Copyright © 2004 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to publish full, edited, or shortened versions must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published March 15th, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada

  • Tattooed People Onstage: From Exhibitions to Entertainers. Part I

    Tattooed People Onstage:
    From Exhibitions to Entertainers.
    PART I

    “The love of beauty in its multiple forms is the noblest gift of the human cerebrum.”

    Alexis Carrel

    The modern Western perception of tattooing has been indelibly marked by its cultural association with the sideshow and its historical predecessor the traveling exhibit. Tattooing as an art form cut its teeth and developed in the West in great part due to the desire for and profit to be had by exhibiting tattooed people. At many circuses and carnivals one could not only see a tattooed marvel but also receive a permanent souvenir from the traveling tattoo artist on the lot. For years, tattoo artists commonly spent most of their time on the road with such shows, possibly also serving as its banner painter, and then wintering at a street shop location. A great example of such an artist, and an inspirational tale in its own right, is Stoney St. Clair whose life and work was documented in what is often considered a seminal work in the history of tattooing: Stoney Knows How (BOOK, VHS).


    In this column (and part II) I am going to attempt to cover centuries of tattooed exhibits and performers. Chronicling how we have come from natives brought back from expeditions to their native land to our current age where performers such as myself, ThEnigma and Katzen, Lucky Rich, and many more have chosen to tattoo their bodies and exhibit them as part live shows.

    In AD 325 Constantine, whose name would later be used by a tattooed attraction in a sort of poetic justice, banned tattooing in the Roman Empire. In AD 787 Pope Hadrian I issued a papal edict against tattooing. Of course, this did not stop the crusaders sent by later popes to wage war for the holy land from getting tattooed while there. However, for the most part these and other similar laws issued forth reflected a general Western prejudice that had developed in the culture against tattooing. Many alleged “experts” considered tattooing to be a sure sign of people being uncivilized and particularly savage. And it was with just such “savage” peoples that exhibitions of tattooing began to gain prominence.

    In 1691, Giolo (or Prince Giolo) was taken by William Dampier in settlement of a debt. Dampier fixed upon the idea of exhibiting the tattooed Prince. The marketing for Giolo created a sensation in England, but the exhibition was ultimately doomed as Giolo came down with small pox and died shortly after arriving from the Philippines. Despite the exhibition not meeting expectations, the successful marketing drew attention and many people realized the potential profit in exhibiting native peoples and particularly those with tattoos.

    In 1774 a South Seas islander from Tahiti named Omai returned to London aboard a ship from one of Captain Cook’s expeditions. Omai had only minor tattooing, mainly on his hands, but the fact that he was tattooed was a major part of his marketing and often exaggerated. Playing the role of the ‘noble savage’ Omai was incredibly well received and successfully toured most of England, including a royal audience. In 1776 he returned home.

    With the success of these exhibits it was only a matter of time before Westerners themselves would hit upon becoming the attractions. Many sailors made efforts to exhibit their ‘souvenir’ tattoos but the standard for non-native exhibits would be set by a man named Jean Baptiste Cabri.

    Cabri was discovered in 1804 living among the natives in the Marquesan Islands by George Langsdorff. Cabri, a French deserter, had ‘gone native’ and been extensively tattooed while living on the islands. Returning to Russia with Langsdorff, Cabri not only exhibited his tattooing but also told exaggerated tales of his life among the natives, effectively moving into performance and creating the archetype that would be followed by tattooed people for centuries to come. With good initial success he was able to successfully tour Russia and much of Europe. However, by 1818 his notoriety had declined and he had died in his native France.

    After Cabri came Rutherford in 1828. John Rutherford, the first extensively tattooed English exhibit, returned to Bristol after having left for New Zealand in 1816. Rutherford was heavily covered in Maori tattoos and spun fanciful tales of shipwreck, abduction, and living with the natives. Rutherford was able to better capture the imaginations of his audiences than Cabri and further developed the basic elements and progression of the tales that would be mimicked by other tattooed people for more than a hundred years.


    L-R: Giolo, Omai, Cabri, and Rutherford.

    As it was in Europe, so it went in the U.S. The first tattooed person believed to have been exhibited in the states is generally held to have been James F. O’Connel. O’connel appeared at Barnum’s American Museum in 1842 telling tales similar to those of Cabri and Rutherford. He published and sold copies of his adventures under the title ‘The Life and Adventures of James F. O’Connel, the Tattooed Man, During a Residence of Eleven Years in New Holland and Caroline Islands’ (1846). While many attribute his appearance at Barnum’s Museum to mean that Barnum was the first to have a tattooed exhibit, there is evidence to suggest that he was already in residence before Barnum took over the museum and several exhibits from Dan Rice.

    In 1873, O’Connel was succeeded by Prince Constantine (like the pope) in Barnum’s show. Constantine was a Greek man also known as Alexandrinos Constentenus aka Djordgi Konstantinus aka George Constantine and Captain Constentenus. He was very likely the most successful exhibit to date and for some time, commanded a salary of $1000 a week while also making good sales on his own book of adventures. This success was most likely due not only to his talent for spinning yarns but even more so for the quality and extensive nature of his tattooing. Constantine was covered with finely detailed Burmese style tattoo work. He is also notable for probably being the first person to completely tattoo their body with the specific goal of becoming an exhibition in mind. In the years to come many would follow his model. And, future exhibits were not the only ones he would inspire – it is said that the legendary tattoo artist Charlie Wagner was so struck upon seeing Constantine that he set out to learn to tattoo. This resulted in his finding an apprenticeship with James O’Reilly, who patented the first electric tattoo machine.

    With Constantine we enter into what might be called the golden age of the tattooed exhibits. A time when hundreds of people got tattooed and made their living as part of traveling shows and museums. Also, the time in which we see the tattooed women come to the stage and even eclipse the men. This era, the decline of the traveling shows, and the return of the tattooed exhibit as performer in the modern sideshow renaissance will form the second installment of this two part column.



    Selected Sources and Suggested reading:
    Stoney Knows How; Leonard L., St. Clair
    The Art of the Tattoo; Ferguson & Procter
    Freaks, Geeks, & Strange Girls; Johnson, Secreto, Varndell
    Freak Show; Bogdan
    Modern Primitives; Vale & Juno

    Much of the original research and work for this column was also used for the BME Encyclopedia which contains a number of entries related to and expanding upon the information presented here.





    Erik Sprague

    because the world NEEDS freaks…

    Former doctoral candidate and philosophy degree holder Erik Sprague, the Lizardman (iam), is known around the world for his amazing transformation from man to lizard as well as his modern sideshow performance art. Need I say more?

    Copyright © 2004 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published March 9th, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Toronto, Ontario, Canada.



  • The Great Fredini Interview – Through the Modified Looking Glass

    The Great Fredini

    “If Homer Simpson wants his son to work in a Burlesque house, then Homer Simpson is gonna let his son work in a Burlesque house! Oh! Hi... Marge, now you’re gonna hear a lot of talk about Bart working in a Burlesque House...”

    Homer Simpson

    The Great Fredini is a man of many hats — and I understand the rest of his wardrobe is pretty nice too. Onstage he is an MC, a talker, magician (the world’s worst, by his own description), a blockhead, a ventriloquist, and a sword swallower. Fredini also does the Coney Island website design (coneyisland.com) and works with Funny Garbage (funnygarbage.com). And while he no longer regularly performs as part of the Coney Island Sideshow cast, he hasn’t left the stage behind as he now hosts This or That (thisorthat.tv), the resident burlesque show.

    Meet Fredini!


    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Let’s start out with the basics.

    FREDINI:
    My name is Fred Kahl, The Great Fredini. I’m 38 years old and live in New York City. I’m a sword swallower and currently work as a creative director at a New York Design and Production company named Funny Garbage.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    How did you first get involved with sideshow and Coney Island?

    FREDINI:
    I was an art student interested in illusion. I spent a lot of time up at Flosso’s Magic Shop perusing old magic books. At the time I was doing sculptures based on illusion principles — a lot of stuff inspired by Duchamp. I got into performing magic on the street, and through the Flosso connection became enamored with Coney’s history. This was in the early 80’s, at the same time that Dick Zigun’s Coney Island USA was just being established, and the Coney Island Hysterical Society was running the funhouse in Coney.

    There was a lot of great underground art going on out there and it seemed like the perfect place for me. A few years later John Bradshaw hired me to be in the sideshow and I went for it. I only worked about a month for him because I had an artist-in-residency somewhere that summer, but that was it — I had the bug. The following season, Dick set up his own show and signed me on for the season.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Do you have any tattoos or piercings?

    FREDINI:
    I have one small jailhouse style tattoo on my foot — it’s of a key, and it’s about an inch long. I’m the straight man in the show.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    You worked closely and were good friends with the late Michael Wilson (who many readers will probably know from his interview in Modern Primitives). He is probably one of the better known and respected tattooed men of the modern sideshow revival. Can you give us a favorite story or moment?

    FREDINI:

    Michael was really an amazing artist — himself being his most famous work, but he was quite an accomplished painter as well. We had a lot of good times together. One of my favorite ways he dealt with hecklers was when they shouted out “take your pants off” or “what’s on your butt?”, to which he’d reply “There’s a rose on my ass, wanna smell it?

    Believe it or not he was actually very modest about revealing the tattoos he had down there. He was once on the Robin Byrd Show (an adult cable access show in NYC) and Robin tried to get him to strip down but he refused.

    Michael was also the first person I knew with a tongue piercing. Back when he first started hammering a nail through his tongue, we literally had people practically fainting or walking out of the show. Later in his career, piercing got more prevalent and it lost its shock effect.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    What was your perception of heavy tattooing and piercing before you got into sideshow — has it changed much now that you have worked with and known so many heavily modified people?

    FREDINI:
    I remember seeing Captain Don perform at the modern primitives show in Seattle, and seeing Jonathan Shaw at the first tattoo show in Coney and remember being impressed by their tats — specifically the fullness of their coverage. I guess over time I’ve really grown to have an appreciation for the artform and have refined my tastes of what I like best.

    I really like the old school American sailor flash myself, as well as artists who do contemporary stuff in that style. I keep thinking I’ll get some when I turn 40… But the only way I’d go for it would be to get a big area — a full back piece or sleeves — none of this piecemeal stuff.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    As a sword swallower, you engage in a very serious form of body control and manipulation, if not modification. Tell us a bit about that.

    FREDINI:
    When I fist worked the sideshow, I just did blockhead and magic, as well as lots of ballying. Michael Wilson and I had a competition as to who would swallow swords first. I always wanted him to do it so he could swallow neon. I wanted to call him the human lampshade because of the way the light would go through the tattoos on his neck.

    At the time no one in the show was swallowing swords, but Michael would say it’s all yoga. During the off season, I started studying yoga, and got really into it. I tried to swallow a coat hanger periodically, but had no success. When the season started, I brought my coat hanger out to Coney. I figured I’d learn backstage between sets. My first attempt in Coney Island worked — and boy was I surprised. That afternoon I began performing it on stage, and by the following week I had a sword.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    You have children, which in my experience, is a little bit rare for sideshow performers. Did you consider how the sideshow environment might impact raising them?

    FREDINI:
    I just do what I do, and they take it at face value. They’ll probably grow up to be bankers in a backlash against it!

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Would you encourage others to learn acts and join the sideshow? Is it a career path you would like to see your children carry on?

    FREDINI:
    Like Melvin Burkhardt used to say, “It’s a hard way to make an easy living.”

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    What does the word “freak” mean to you?

    FREDINI:
    Ugh, I don’t know. People who are mentally and emotionally malformed? Not most people in the sideshow. Michael Jackson is a real freak — both psychologically, and in the self-made freak kind of way.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    You are a guest lecturer at the Coney Island Sideshow School. Tell us a bit about your experience with that.

    FREDINI:
    Todd Robbins is the real master of Sideshow School. I just do a little sword swallowing tutorial. We do some breathing and relaxation exercises and try swallowing coat hangers. The old law was that a sword swallower would only ever teach one other person — just to pass the act on, but I guess I’m doing the opposite… teaching more sword swallowers than anyone else! But really, Todd Robbins deserves all the props for Sideshow School.

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Tell me about the Coney Island Burlesque show.

    FREDINI:
    For the last seven years, I’ve run the Coney Island Burlesque at the Beach series, which gave birth to my latest project — “America’s favorite Burlesque Game show – This or That!”. This is the TV show I want to see when I turn on the TV! We’re about to start pitching it around at networks. I’m not sure if anyone will touch it, but we’ll see.

    The idea is that it is a sexy game show — part Gong Show, part Let’s Make a Deal, but hotter. We make the contestants reveal their inner exhibitionistic selves. It’s really just good clean fun (with some skin showing). Along the way there’s some wild variety acts in the show, but it’s really about making the contestants — these “normal” people come out of their shells, and believe me they do! You can’t believe the things people will do to win a vibrator (see what I mean at thisorthat.tv).

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    What was the impetus to do a burlesque show? Was it the historical connection or simply a matter of saying “Hey, you know what people like? Stripping!

    FREDINI:
    Burlesque is an old American artform like the sideshow, so the historical connection was a draw, but face it — sexy girls are a lot more exciting than looking at Eak! (Unless you’re into that!).

    At Coney Island USA, we had always done an annual Go Go Rama night, and Dick Zigun had written about Minsky’s in the 70’s, so it was something that was in the air out there. The charter of CIUSA is to uphold American popular artforms like the sideshow and tattooing, so burlesque was a natural extension. Plus, it made good money, so in the age of struggling non-profits, it made good sense. When I left the sideshow I
    knew I wanted to stay involved out there and Burlesque at the Beach and Tirza’s Wine Baths was born out of it!

    THE LIZARDMAN:
    Is it different doing acts like the blockhead and sword swallowing for a burlesque crowd?

    FREDINI:
    Not really — the crowd at the burlesque shows is usually all revved up, so in that sense it’s good. At a sideshow you get audiences that span anywhere from super revved up to dead as a doornail, but really, my blockhead and swords routine is pretty much never fail… so there you have it!

    Be sure to visit Fredini online at Coney Island and at This or That.





    Erik Sprague

    because the world NEEDS freaks…

    Former doctoral candidate and philosophy degree holder Erik Sprague, the Lizardman (iam), is known around the world for his amazing transformation from man to lizard as well as his modern sideshow performance art. Need I say more?

    Copyright © 2004 BMEzine.com LLC. Requests to republish must be confirmed in writing. For bibliographical purposes this article was first published February 10th, 2004 by BMEzine.com LLC in Tweed, Ontario, Canada.



  • TEETH RULE – The BME Cultural Corner

    Teeth Rule
    Alicia Cardenas


    When I am working on a problem, I never think about beauty. I only think of how to solve the problem. But, when I have finished, if the solution is not beautiful, I know it is wrong.

    Buckminster Fuller

      

    Welcome back to the BME Cultural Corner. I’d like to introduce my friend and colleague, Alicia Cardenas. She and her partner have operated Twisted Sol (twistedsol.com) in Denver, Colorado for eight years. Alicia is also serving a term as cultural liaison on the board of the APP. She is deeply involved with indigenous groups, and practices and teaches traditional Aztec and Mayan dance, and has a profound spiritual appreciation of tribal cultures around the world. Alicia has recently returned from a trip to Central America where she had had her own teeth modified in the traditional style. Alicia is a skilled piercer as well as self-educated anthropologist, and her fascinating journey to her own tribal origins is now here on BME for all cultural enthusiasts and body artists alike to share. Thank you Alicia,

    – Blake

    This is the first in a series of articles devoted to the ancient practices of tooth modification. To begin this series, I will tell my own story and invite others to share in my experience. Although I believe the history of these practices is important, the evolution of this ritual and its modern day significance plays a huge part in the widespread acceptance of this truly beautiful display of individuality.

    I’m not exactly sure when it occurred to me that I wanted to get traditional gold teeth. I just decided it was pretty and divine, and then came to want them for myself. While growing up I remember seeing people with steel or gold caps, and I would assume they had a bad tooth and that was what they put in its place (teeth being one of those things you tend to notice on everyone, and parents pay thousands of dollars to fix in a quest for the perfect American smile). I understood the concept at a young age of “beauty at the price of discomfort,” a theme that would reoccur throughout my adult life. Beautiful straight teeth were something I fought for throughout my youth, regardless of the discomfort. I wanted to be an actress and for that you needed straight teeth. Headgear, headaches, bleeding gums, wax and rubber bands; it was like some sort of torture. Braces were not a sign of beauty, but knowing the end result was beauty, it became widely socially acceptable to have them. After my battle with braces I swore off dentists for life unless completely necessary — little did I know that my tooth saga would continue (and by choice). I would modify my teeth further in search for beauty and for an understanding of the ancient practices of my ancestors.

    American culture is so attached to a specific idea of beauty that it is spoon-fed to us on the cover of every magazine, on television, and in the movies. We can’t (or don’t) want to conceive of the different forms of beauty being embraced by neighboring cultures. One great example of this is tooth modification in Mexico — tooth filing, capping, removal, and incrustation are all comonly practiced artforms among the indigenous people of Mesoamerica. In ancient times, these cultures practiced advanced dentistry far beyond what the “savages” were assumed to be capable of.

    These people were far from savages, but an advanced culture that excelled at astronomy, mathematics, body modification, and much more. The Maya were the first to apply this adornment and practice it still. Tribes throughout the body of Mexico that came later in history, such as the Toltecs and Mexicahs (Aztecs) followed in their footsteps. While growing up in America, the only people I saw who had gold or steel teeth were the Mexican population (with the exception of people who had very damaged teeth). Since Colorado has such a large Mexican community, I grew up convinced that Mexicans had really bad dental health — little did I know that most gold caps and gold windows being performed in Mexico were inspired by beauty, and not poor dental health!

    As I grew older and realized the significance, I became captivated by it. Seeing people with gold teeth began to inspire me to find a deeper, more universal explanation of why this was a healthy part of human history. Modern Mexicans, Mayans, and other indigenous cultures of South and Central America still practice tooth adornment. Mayans can often be identified by their gold caps, usually on the four front teeth (top or bottom). This tradition was so strong that it has survived for thousands of years. If I was going to get my teeth modified it would have to be with the experts. I would travel to Mexico City in search of answers in my quest for tooth modification.

    If you go looking in Mexico City for an answer, you will truly find it.


    Temple of the Moon.

    In a population of twenty million there is always something to learn or do. James (the other piercer at Twisted Sol) and I arrived in Mexico City with nothing but our backpacks and a mission of immersion. We had wanted to travel many times together and had never gotten the opportunity, but now found ourselves in our favorite country and the place of our ancestors. Tenochtlitilan. We were greeted and hosted quite possibly by Tonazin Tlalli (mother earth) and Tonatiuh (father sun) themselves — Ana Paula and Ruso. They have a beautiful body art studio called Tonatiuh (cuerpoadornado.com) in Mexico City, and would be our guides and hosts for this ten-day affair. Looking at these two people you are immediately transported into the past — not only do they look like a page out of history, but they live and follow the philosophies of the ancient people. Having guides like these was a blessing. We would see Mexico like we’d never seen it before. Throughout the entire trip teeth were a reoccurring theme. In each museum we visited there were multiple exhibits with tooth incrustations and statues that had teeth that were filed.


    Left: With Alfredo and Ana. Right: With Ana and Ruso from Tonatiuh.

    While standing out front of the Museo De Anthropologia we ran into four Maya women that all had all front four uppers in gold and gold windows. I explained my fascination and they agreed to allow me to photograph them (in the photo only one of them smiled enough to show her teeth though). Of the four women only one of them needed the gold teeth because of problems with her natural teeth. This concept would present itself again and again, assuring me that my urge to change my teeth was a normal one.


    With ladies from the Yucatan.

    I had arranged ahead of time to get an appointment with a dentist. Ana warned me that as a board member of the APP, visiting a dentist in Mexico was going to be a hardcore awakening to the realities of cleanliness. I reminded her that the only difference between a dentist in America and one in Mexico is that dentists in America have nicer equipment, but are still just as dirty. I prefered to visit one that had more of a family feel, and had experience with this type of procedure. To my surprise, Ana had an aunt, Pilar, who was a dentist, and I could have an appointment with her. It would require two appointments; possibly three. My first one was to consult with her and really talk about what we were doing. James and Ana helped as I couldn’t understand — my Spanish is very limited and she was using a lot of dental terms.

    Pilar was your typical family dentist and was definitely surprised to be asked to perform such an unusual request. Even though it is the style in many rural parts of Mexico and the Yucatan, Pilar was a middle to upper-class city dentist that was more often putting on porcelain caps to fit in with the mainstream, rather than the gold ones which are the style for older generations. She asked why and I told her it was tradition, and she simply mentioned doing incrustations with jewels would take far longer. She also mentioned that it was strange for her to work on perfectly good teeth. I reminded her she was making them better.

    I immediately knew when I sat with her that she would be the dentist to do my teeth. I did like the fact that she was a woman. She also seemed to become more and more fascinated with the project as we talked. It was as if she was being reminded that the trade of dentistry was ancient, and she too was carrying on the tradition by performing the procedure. She gave me many opportunities to back out but I became more and more convinced that I was ready to do this, and this was the time to do it.

    She began by taking the first and last molds of my teeth and bite — the way they were when I arrived in Mexico. She was very concerned with details and took several impressions to make sure that it was accurate. I must have had a gallon of spit sucked out of my mouth and it was very difficult to hold open my mouth for two hours. She then came at me with a syringe that was much older than I, and numbed only the section of my face necessary to grind down my teeth without pain. She gloved and masked up and ground my teeth down. It took about two hours total. The cleanliness (or lack thereof) only bothered me for the first twenty-five minutes, until I gave in to the experience. Then it was just funny. I am of the strong belief that good intention kills germs*, and in this case it would have to!

     
    * Note: in one piercing I go through eight pairs of gloves. Pilar used one pair for two hours, handling everything in the room. I asked James to take photos, but as these things often happen, I had one bag not arrive back in Denver and it was the one with all the film in it… so I have only the photos James took on his camera.

    At the end she fit fake plastic teeth called provisionals over my new stubs. They looked just like oversized teeth except they were only there to protect my stubs from causing me pain from their sensitivity. I would wear the provisionals for three days until my new gold caps where made, having them fall off every time I ate and making me feel like Goofy. The next few days were a surreal period of reflection, as it was too late to turn back, but I was not there yet.


    Before the operation, making molds, and the ancient syringe.

    The final appointment would be the day before we were scheduled to leave. It was very important that everything went well in getting the gold ones made because I would have to extend my trip if they didn’t fit.

    When I arrived back at the office to get my new gold caps I was so excited I felt as if I had been without a part of my body I was about to get back. As she fit them on I knew everything had gone great and I would be able to leave with them in place. Pilar had become obsessed with their perfection and she was worried, not so much if I liked them, but more if she thought they were perfect. In the small amount of time we shared together she was no longer a stranger but like a part of my extended family in Mexico. She would be in my memories as a fine practitioner of an ancient art forever. With some minor adjustments I was reborn. My smile could have not gotten bigger! It would take a few weeks before I stopped tonguing them and wishing I had made more time for an incrustation but eventually I would acclimate. What I could not stop thinking though was how the ancient ones did it and why.


    Before and After.

    The quest for beauty and status was definitely a motivating factor but certainly not the only reason why teeth were modified. In Pre-Columbian Mexico teeth were not only adorned with gold and precious stones (jade, obsidian, hematite, turquoise), but they were filed, stained, notched, and even removed and used in other adornments. Often conch beads were made in the shape of teeth and strung together with jade and coral for large ceremonial necklaces. These items were reserved for royal death offerings. The teeth themselves were a symbol of much more than just physical aesthetics. They symbolized strength and would survive into the afterlife, unlike flesh.

    The removal or notching of teeth was done to represent devotion to deities and had special meaning (it was not given out to just anyone). There are many spiritual significances and rituals that surrounded these practices, but when medicine men or shaman performed them, they used virtually the same techniques as are used today — tight fit or cements. However, today if an inlay is done it would require an artificial cap being inlayed and then placed over the tooth (or in place of the tooth), whereas the ancient people did inlays in teeth that were still healthy and attached, making the procedure much more difficult than the one modern dentists usually use.

    What I identified most with in these ancient practices was that they were used as a type of medicine to cure a different kind of ailment. For me there was medicine in getting my teeth worked on. It lightened my spirit and brought me a new found love of a once dreaded part of my body. After all the years with braces, my teeth were never perfect, and I often neglected to give teeth-baring smiles. My gold teeth now overshadow any insecurity I ever had about smiling as big as I can. Simply by having them I am setting an example of ancient traditional beauty in modern culture and how adorning teeth is not only about fixing something that is broken, but adding to something making it even better.

    My studies have gone on to all continents in search for all the explanations given for this type of bodywork. I have begun to collect and catalog each case of tooth modification done in history and today. I look forward to presenting an article on each continent and the modern day stories of tooth adornment. Thank you to my friends James, Ana, and Ruso for guiding me through this experience. Without them I would have not been able to get them done. Thank you as well to Blake, for planting the seed and helping it grow.

    Alicia Cardenas
    twistedsoldier at hotmail dot com




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