Transsexual Guitars (you may read this story only if you are 18 or older)
Let me be very clear: musical instruments are not sexual in any biological sense of the word. They certainly do not reproduce. If you leave two grand pianos alone in the same room, there is no chance that—nine months later—you will find a baby grand. But instruments do have *gender* (and here I am not speaking of “diatonic,” “chromatic,” or “enharmonic”). Instruments have gender because they reflect the gender sensitivities of human cultures.
You may have noticed that in our society we use instruments that were once mostly played by men, and others mostly by women. And you may also have noticed how this is changing, as gender is increasingly interpreted in more flexible ways.
In many other cultures, gender attitudes are often less flexible, and the flute (considered a phallic symbol) is frequently taboo for women, who are not allowed to play it or even look at it. Intriguingly, in the West it used to be the opposite: until fairly recent times, the flute was considered a women’s instrument—as if a man playing it might reveal some sort of latent homosexuality.
What I am trying to say is that, while in tribal societies instruments carry very clear gender connotations, in ours the situation is now somewhat fuzzy. Some instruments are more typically found in the hands of men, others in the hands of women. Some, like the guitar and the violin, have a pleasantly feminine shape, and yet are played by both sexes without distinction. Director Federico Fellini, in his film *Orchestra Rehearsal*, even has some characters debate whether the violin is “male” (because of its penetrating sound) or “female” because of its shape. The question, therefore, remains open.
We also have instruments that exist only within one musical genre (the oboe and the bassoon, for instance). Others move easily from one genre to another (the piano and the violin). Still others, in order to cross genres, may need to shift their gender connotation. The guitar—once a feminine classical and folk instrument—had to change its gender altogether, undergo surgery, so to speak, and become a transsexual instrument in order to be accepted in rock bands. No hormone therapy was needed for the transition, but the transformation was drastic nonetheless.
Just think how shapely and feminine the classical guitar is. Consider how sensually a guitarist embraces the instrument to obtain the sound he wants. And then consider how things changed when Elvis still had a shapely, rather feminine-looking guitar, but no longer wished to embrace it. And consider what happened soon after. The rock guitar is indeed the product of a sex-change operation. Just look at its body—lean and dry—and how overdeveloped the neck is in proportion to it. Observe how musicians wear it, hanging it exactly where their reproductive organ is located. Observe how aggressively they brandish it. You don’t need a shrink to understand what that means. Male musicians wield the electric guitar as if it were an extension… of their penis. And at times you can even read frustration on their faces, as if they were saying: *I wish mine were that long.* And in any case, consider the masturbatory movements of their hand when plucking the strings. Whether that helps them overcome their sense of inferiority, I really do not know.
One thing is certain: over the course of its long existence, the guitar has undergone many transformations. Once known in Europe as *kaitara arabija*, it evoked the mysterious lands of the Orient. Then it became a folk instrument, a flamenco instrument, a classical instrument, a pop and jazz instrument—and finally it even underwent a sex-change operation. Life is unpredictable, often adventurous—even for musical instruments.