Living on the Pointy End: Pole-Sitting and its Ancient Antecedent the Stylites

Posted on by Bonza Rottwheeler
Leisure activities, Memorabilia, Performing arts, Popular Culture, Social History, Society & Culture

The first two decades of the 21st century have been witness to a raft of passing fads and rages, we’ve seen the likes of Planking, Twerking and Tebowing, etc ad nauseam, it makes me wonder whatever happened to the, by definition, sedentary craze of pole-sitting? Like most crazes, I guess, it is of its time and the shelf life is never infinite. It’s day, or its heyday, was in the 1920s up to around the early 1930s when the peak of the craze subsided.

‘Shipwreck’ Kelly at work

Pole-sitting
The initial exponent of pole-sitting or specifically flagpole-sitting, so far as we know, was New Yorker Alvin ‘Shipwreck’ Kelly. Prior to his preoccupation with pole-sitting, Kelly was a jack-of-all-trades, trying his hand as a steelworker, steeplejack⋖a⋗, high diver, boxer and movie double. He also was a naval ensign during WWI and held a pilot’s licence and performed aerial stunt flights. Opinions differ on how ‘Shipwreck’ got into the business of pole-sitting, one view goes that the habit came early, scrambling up a pole at the tender age of seven, others attribute it to a dare or to a publicity stunt for a Philadelphia department store [‘Body of ‘Shipwreck’ Kelly Lies Unclaimed in Morgue’, Sarasota Herald-Tribune, 13-Oct-1952, (Google News Archive)]. In January 1924 his ‘career’ took off with a record-setting sit atop a pole for 13 hours and 13 minutes to help promote a Hollywood film. Kelly’s best-ever effort was 49 days and one hour, Atlantic City 1930.

AK keeping up with the news at ground-level (Photo: Everett/Fine Art America)

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At the height of his popularity Kelly was earning $500 a day, coming from charging money to people to watch his feats of endurance, from books about his life, from endorsements and personal appearances. His fame also led to a 28-day tour of the United States, sitting on poles in a different city on each day of the tour. But the glory days did not last, the onset of the Great Depression saw his popularity plummet rapidly, Americans quickly lost interest in spending precious money watching men sit on poles with more serious and urgent concerns taking centre stage in their lives (Saratosa Tribune).

‘Dixie’ Blandy (Source: Facebook)

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Pole-sitting became competitive with Richard ‘Dixie’ Blandy challenging and even besting Kelly’s 49-day record. Brandy’s accomplishment, 77 days, was the stuff of legend, sustained as it was on a diet of bottles of whiskey and three packs of cigarettes a day [‘The Mad 1920s: Fad of Pole-Sitting’, Messynessy, 25-Sep-2020, www.chic.com]. Interestingly, prior to being bitten by the pole-sitting bug Blandy, like Kelly, tried an assortment of jobs including circus worker, boxer, house painter, steeplejack, riveter, merchant marine, salesman and (wait for it) flagpole painter. Unlike Kelly though, the Louisiana-born Blandy didn’t become inactive because of the Depression, continuing the activity and even breaking his 1933 record twice more, the second time in Stockholm, Sweden, added to Dixie’s legend – a sit of 125 days in a chair affixed to a pole 200-feet above the ground, while consuming 92 bottles of whiskey and his customary diurnal 3 packs of cigs⋖b⋗.[‘Richard Ernest “Dixie” Blandy’, Findagrave, www.findagrave.com]. Blandy actually died on the job, killed in 1974 when the flagpole supporting him collapsed.

Publicity shot: Dixie was popular with the ladies, married 6 times (all his wives met him via the phone at his pole-sitting events) (Source: Dayton Daily News)
Paalzitten (Noordwijkerhout)

Blandy notwithstanding, the fad had seen its day after the Depression bit hard. Since then there have been attempts from time to time to revive the pole-sitting caper. In the Netherlands for example pole-sitting became a competitive sport In the 1970s – the Dutch call it Paalzitten (literally “sit tight”). This is a world away from the pursuit that made Alvin and Dixie famous, the poles in the Netherland sit above not solid ground but water and nose-bleeds are uncommon as Dutch derrières are perched barely two arm lengths from the level of the water…“a tourist attraction more than a spectator sport”. [‘Paalzitten Is A Dutch Competitive Sport Where You Have To Sit On A Pole For Hours’, The Engineer, www.wonderfulengineering.com].

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Stylites
The fad of Pole-sitting originated in the 1920s as we have seen, but there are historical precedents for this curious pastime. In the early Christian period certain ascetic monks of a particularly fanatical bent practiced something broadly analogous to pole-sitting. These holy men of Late Antiquity were called  ‘Stylites’ (from Greek stylos, ‘pillar’). Stylites were “pillar-dwellers” not pole-sitters, and their motivation was spiritual salvation rather than money and fame which spurred on ‘Shipwreck’ Kelly and his ilk. Stylites’ also differed from the pole-sitters in modus operandi, standing on the pillars was their preferred position. Sitting was something they tended to resort to only when overcome by fatigue or perhaps sleep.

6th century depiction of Ur-Simeon Stylites

The ‘poles’ in question were in fact narrow columns or towers atop which were small platforms which housed the Stylite. The platform were usually encircled by a railing of sorts to prevent the hermit-preacher from falling off. The most famous of the practitioners—the ur-Stylite—was Simeon Stylites the Elder whose early zeal for Christianity led him to ascend a pillar in Syria in AD 423. Later he relocated to a second, nearby pillar more than 15 metres above the ground, apparently staying in it till his death 37 years later⋖c⋗.

Icon depicting both Simeon the Elder & Simeon the Younger

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Simeon’s devotion to the practice made him quite a celebrity in the Christian world, he corresponded with the high and mighty including the Eastern emperors Theodosius II and Leo I, even exerting some influence on ecclesiastical matters, such was his standing. Visitors flocked to observe him praying, preaching and fasting on his high platform. Pilgrims and sightseers sought spiritual counselling, healing for the sick, intervention on behalf of the oppressed, etc. Simeon was too popular, a double wall had to be constructed around his pillar to keep the thronging multitudes from getting too close and disturbing his prayer sessions [‘St. Simeon Stylites’, Britannica, www.britannica.com].

Luke the Stylite

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The pre-Medieval Christian lifestyle caught on among the more ascetically inclined of the early Byzantine clergy (including women) with many following the prototypical Stylite, some even adopting his name. The more notable of these include St Daniel of Constantinople, St Simeon Stylites the Younger (Antioch), St Alypius of Paphlagonia (north-central Anatolia) and St Simeon Stylites (III) of Lesbos. As this list shows, prominence in the Stylite calling was a passport to sainthood. The Stylites needed to be a stoical lot as they were exposed to all kinds of weather at the top (although some were fortunate enough to be furnished with a small hut to escape into in time of severe inclemency).

Georgian hermit headquarters (Source: Vintage News)

Footnote: If you think the Stylites were confined to the so-called “Dark Ages”, think again! The practice has not entirely been extinguished in the 21st century. A monk in Georgia (Maxime Qavtaradze) in 2013 celebrated 20 years of lofty solitude as a ascetic hermit atop a mountain pillar a la the Stylites⋖d⋗. The original Stylites however would not recognise their barest of existences in the Georgian pillar set-up…Maxime lives in a small cosy cottage with adjoining church house on the top of his pillar, and the monk descends twice a week to the village below to say prayers with his parishioners [‘Georgian Monk Renews Tradition, Lives Atop Pillar’, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, 11-Sep-2013, www.rferl.org].

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⋖a⋗ perhaps serving as a kind of altitude training for his later pole-sitting marathons

⋖b⋗ to avoid a calamitous outcome in marathon stints, the pole-sitters tied their legs to the vertical structure when wanting to sleep

⋖c⋗ meagre parcels of food were fetched to Simeon by his disciples

⋖d⋗ in this case a limestone rock pillar

The Limp Falling Funsters of Perth and the Artifice of Planned Spontaneity

Posted on by Bonza Rottwheeler
Leisure activities, Media & Communications, Performing arts, Popular Culture
Python running rugby

When I first heard about the Limp Falling Club✪ and it’s fanatical penchant for bizarre, nonsensical public (and pub) antics, it sounded like the physical humour of a very silly Monty Python skit. It turns out I wasn’t the only person to make the association between the Limp Fallers’ shtick and the Surreal sketches of the legendary Monty Pythons. No less a practitioner of his own unique brand of cutting satire than John Clarke joined the dots between the Limp Falling Club and Monty Python … channeling John Cleese’s “Minister of Silly Walks” Clarke went on to advocate the formulation of a new ministerial office, an appropriately absurd (given the lunacy that is Canberra politics) “federal Minister of Limp Falling”.

The “spontaneous public theatre” of the LFC was the brainchild of Australian political cartoonist Paul Rigby, circa. late 1950s⍟. The ‘ritual’ proceeded like this, a group of neatly-dressed white collar workers (mainly journalist types) would convene, typically in a pub or a bar or perhaps a restaurant. After consuming copious quantities of beer, on a signal they would suddenly and ‘spontaneously’ drop to the floor singularly or holus-bolus in a collapsed heap, no doubt startling nearby onlookers. I found a slim handful of grainy You Tube videos on the internet demonstrating the technique (sic), including one which shows a score of Limp Fallers including Rigby tumbling haphazardly down a staircase with scant regard to their safety.

At the time Paul Rigby was living in Perth, WA, where the “art form” took off. The cartoonist’s favourite “watering hole”, the Palace Hotel in the Perth CBD became the epicentre of the performance art of limp falling, the epicentre of the activity in Australia at least. A 2013 article by Aleisha Orr suggested the spectacle of limp falling “swept across many parts of the world in the 1950s and 60s”. In the same article one of the few surviving, octogenarian members of the club had his own take on the mysterious origins of the art of limp falling, the result of a house party accident when one of the journos—well-lubricated at the time no doubt—fell through an asbestos wall❂

Palace Hotel, Perth

I don’t think that limp falling has ever quite reached the international heights of “fad-dom” of say the Rubik’s Cube or “Flash Mobbing”, but I can testify to the quirky practice having some degree of international currency. Going back some 30 years I remember seeing a story on the nightly news about the “All Fall Down Association”. A different moniker but dedicated to the same peculiar pastime – a group of respectable looking middle class ‘suits’ (all males again) from various parts of the compass coming together at London’s Heathrow Airport. On the intoning of a special code word, in synch all collapsed to the ground with dramatic effect.

‘President’ Rigby (Source: AMHF)

After Rigby’s death in 2006 the LFC’s presidency eventually passed to his son, although the Club (Perth chapter) appears to have been inactive for some years now.

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✪ AKA the Limp Falling Association

⍟ according to the Australia Media Hall of Fame, the concept of “limp falling” was the result of a collective meeting of minds of Rigby and Ron Saw and Steve Dunleavy, two of his journalist colleagues from Sydney’s Daily Mirror

❂ the other partygoers found the incident hilarious and a new fad was thus born

Fortress Moskva for Bibliophiles: The State Library, Depository for Everything Published in Russia

Posted on by E Curb Nottus
Heritage & Conservation, Leisure activities, Literary & Linguistics, Old technology

A quieter side of Moscow to visit—a diversion away from the tourist central of St Basil’s, GUM and the Kremlin¹—can be found at the Russian State Library (RSL) in Vozdvizhenka Street in the Arbat neighbourhood. Moskva’s huge public library (founded 1862) back in the USSR days was called with Soviet originality the VI Lenin Library (with the nickname the ‘Leninka’ or the ‘Leninski’). The library’s facade has the standard CCCP look, monolithic and imposing.

(Photo: rsl.ru)

Modern security, antiquated catalogue
Once inside the entrance we are faced with a surprising level of security…a security cordon more in keeping with Fort Knox or at the very least a central bank, rather than a library – electronic gates and guards in police-type flak jackets. The way the culturally-proud Moscovites look at, it is a house of treasures that can’t be valued in roubles! The Guinness Book of Records ranks RSL as the largest in Europe and the second-largest library in the world behind the Library of Congress, Washington DC². RSL holds upward of 30 million book items (books, magazines, periodicals and other publications (a smaller but very significant number are in other than the Russian language)³.

(Photo: Pinterest)

But everything is big in RSL, collections of rare, historic maps, musical scores, art folios, etc, 36 separate reading rooms, the card catalogue system. Card catalogues? Yes RSL is holding 21st century technology at bay by clinging to row upon row of wooden card catalogue cabinets (Gen Ys and Millennials must puzzle over this furniture from Mars?)…some may scoff at the retention of the “old school” system but I found it quaint, a nostalgic throwback to less sophisticated methodology (although it should be added that the library maintains a digital catalogue system as well).

RSL is part library, part book and document museum. The 160 thousand item-strong maps collection is a cartographer’s “wet dream”, rare historic maps dating back to the 16th century. Rare books, early printed editions, are RSL’s forte, including manuscripts of ancient Slavonic codices.

RSL’s Ottoman collection (Photo: TRT World)

As Russia’s national library–a status comparable to the Library of Congress–RSL has a special role as the nation’s book depository (the recipient of legal deposit copies of all publications in Russia). No cost to enter RSL but tourists have to get a visitor’s badge at the entry gate, cameras and photography inside the library are “no-nos”.

‘Russian State Library’ publication

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¹ actually not far at all from the Kremlin walls, but out of sight and earshot of the throng of tourist queues

² measured by catalogue size (number of items)

³ all holdings and collections in the library amount to over 47 million items

The Student Prince of Camperdown

Posted on by Bonza Rottwheeler
Leisure activities, Local history, Memorabilia, Society & Culture

I went to the ‘Student Prince’ in the 1970s, only the once I think. The pub was pretty well packed with students from across the road, befitting its reputation as the unofficial watering hole of Sydney University students in those days (I was probably one of the few people there who were not actually going to USyd).

The interior was dimly-lit, the furniture well-used and the place definitely not decorated in the fashion of Old Heidelberg. I recall music playing however it was not a Mario Lanza record but a scrawny-looking band out the back playing something that wasn’t the “Drinking Song’ from the 1954 movie bearing the hotel’s name.

(Source: G’day Pubs)

The public house changed hands several times in the years before 2001 when it closed its doors for good, having been the perennial refuge for countless undergrads after a day spent in the mental grind of lecture halls and swotting up in Fisher Library. While many former patrons of the pub no doubt fondly recall their time drinking and waxing lyrically about some newly-acquired parcel of esoteric knowledge, other habitués associate the Student Prince with other memories – Russell Crowe for instance confessed to the Twitterati in 2010 that the roof of the pub was where his ten-year-old self first got his nicotine addiction!

The Student Prince after loitering on the market for a protracted period of time was bought by what the Sydney Morning Herald called “a mysterious consortium of Asian businessmen” who spent two years and $11 million turning the old uni student watering hole into an upmarket brothel (‘Sexclusively yours’, SMH, February 17, 2003).

‘Stiletto’ (the name it trades under) was described on the DA (development application) as an “adult entertainment facility”, or translated into street parlance, a “very high class knocking shop”. In 2011 plans to expand Stiletto into a “42-room megaplex” (the “largest short-stay bordello in the world”) ran into a hitch when Westpac the principal financier got cold feet. The establishment went ahead with the new development, but after a moral backlash (‘Sydney sinking into sin’, Daily Telegraph, November 12, 2010), the eventual expansion was appreciably more limited in size than initially proposed by the developers.

(Photo: ANU Open Research)

Footnote: There was an earlier pub dating from the 1880’s on the site at 82 Parramatta Road, Camperdown, called the ‘Captain Cook Hotel’ (‘Former Student Prince Hotel in Camperdown (NSW)’, www.gdaypubs.com.au).