Two recent exhibitions on guitar history were little more than toys for big boys shows. Where were the women, wonders Sinéad Gleeson
WHERE were the female guitarists? At the recent Rock Chic exhibition in Collin's Barracks, Dublin, myself and hundreds of other salivating guitar geeks milled around a room filled with classic guitars. From prototypes and custom models to vintage and historic collectibles, this was four-, six- and 12- string heaven. Here's a 1933 Rickenbacker Electro seven-string Hawaiian model, there's a gorgeous 1950s National Dynamic lap steel. We checked out numerous lovely Gibsons, Gretschs, Bo Diddley's Hoyer "Square", a 1960s Airline (is Jack Black single-handedly responsible for their comeback?) and the prize exhibit: Rory Gallagher's beat-up Fender Strat.
The timely retrospective was marred by one major oversight: the poor representation of women. This absence seemed to reinforce the idea that the electric guitar, that totem of testosterone, is still considered the preserve of the boys.
Perhaps we don't have a female equivalent of our Rory or Jimi Hendrix, but the Rock Chic exhibition assumed that no woman had ever picked up a guitar, whacked up the treble and brandished the tremolo arm like a vibrator. What about Courtney Love? Even one of her smashed up cast-offs would have made a statement. Ditto Chrissie Hynde and Patti Smith, the epitome of rock androgyny, both guitarists for four decades. Bonnie Raitt, Eric Clapton's female equivalent, didn't warrant an inclusion, nor did Joan Jett, who had a huge influence on subsequent generations of American female guitar bands.
Another unrepresented guitarist was PJ Harvey, who spits woman-scorned fury over her red Gretsch and uses her guitar as an extension of herself. And where was Susannah Hoffs of The Bangles? Rickenbacker made Hoffs her own signature guitar model: the 350SH, based on the 350 Model but to her specifications. Only 250 were ever issued.
Perhaps cock rock-ery is what it's all about. No one can argue with the numbers: more men than women have picked up, plugged in and rocked out with guitars. Not that you'd know it to look around Dublin at the moment, with such girl-dominated guitar bands as Party Weirdo, Medea, Queen Kong and Janey Mac amping things up.
Which brings us to the Irish connection and the biggest omission of all: Sinéad O'Connor? Surely the steel/metal effect Fender from the Mandinka video - the song that kicked off O'Connor's career - had enough local relevance to deserve a glass-cased spot on the wall?
Actually, there were a few female representations at Rock Chic. A naked woman strutted across David LaChapelle's pink Fender Stratocaster; Bryan Adams's custom offering featured a half-naked Kate Moss; and Heidi Klum straddled the bridge of Rankin's Strat. Jennifer Lopez had "customised" a guitar (no G-string jokes please), while a blue Paul Reed Smith Custom 22 that Christina Aguilera posed with on the cover of Rolling Stone made up the numbers.
The Rock Chic exhibition upped sticks to London and ran at Harrod's under the title Born to Rock: The Life and Times of the Electric Guitar. Given the change of location to the spiritual home of punk and the hometown of all-girl guitar bands The Slits and The Radiators, it's even odder that a guitar owned by Viv Albertine, The Slits' firebrand guitarist, was nowhere to be found.
Does the answer to why both exhibitions were women-free zones lie in the London title? The electric guitar is the ultimate phallic symbol, a bulwark of masculinity that implies that women should content themselves with fluffy pink custom jobs or non-threatening acoustic models. Even so, there's a whole gamut of acoustic players, from Joan Armatrading (who owns more than 100 guitars) to Beth Orton, who could have graced either exhibition.
If the exhibition continues to tour the world, the curators could consider acknowledging female guitarists and their contribution. Would a Flying V from big-haired 1980s rockers Heart be too much to ask? Here's hoping.
