Guelph & Ghibelline

Guelph (pronounced gwelf)

(1) In the politics of medieval Italian city states and in certain German states, a member of a political party or faction that supported the sovereignty of the papacy against the Holy Roman Emperor: politically opposed to the Ghibellines who supported the claims of the emperor.

(2) The beliefs of the Guelphs.

(2) A member of a secret society in early nineteenth century Italy that opposed foreign rulers and reactionary ideas.

(3) Any member of the German-Hanoverian Party (1867–1933), a conservative federalist political party in the German Empire (the so-called Second Reich 1871-1918) and the Weimar Republic (1918-1933) founded as a protest against the annexation in 1866 of the Kingdom of Hanover by the Kingdom of Prussia.

1570–1580: From the Italian Guelfo, from the Middle High German Welf (the family name of the founder of a princely German dynasty of Bavarian origin that became the ducal house of Brunswick (literally “whelp”, originally the name of the founder (Welf I).  The family are the ancestors of the present Windsor dynasty of Great Britain which until 17 July 1917 was the house of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, the change effected by decree of George V (1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936), responding to some understandable anti-German sentiment during the World War I (1914-1918).  One unintended consequence of the change was it elicited from Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918) the first of his two known jokes: Upon hearing of the change, he quipped he hoped soon to attend the next Berlin performance of William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) The Merry Wives of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha (1602).  Historians cite the name as a war-cry used at the Battle of Weinsberg (1140) by forces loyal to Henry III (Henry the Lion, 1129-1195; Duke of Saxony (1142–1180) and of Bavaria (as Henry XII, 1156–1180) who at the time was aligned with Frederick Barbarossa (1122–1190; Frederick I, Holy Roman Emperor 1155-1190).  The alternative spelling was Guelf.  Guelph & Guelphism are nouns and Guelphic & Guelfic are adjectives; the noun plural is guelphs.  During the “great controversy”, partisans of the pope were in Italy known as Guelfi.

Ghibelline (pronounced gib-uh-lin or gib-uh-leen)

A member of the aristocratic party in medieval Italy and Germany that supported the claims of the Holy Roman Emperors against the claims by the papacy of temporal power: politically opposed to the Guelphs who supported the claims of the pope.

1565-1575: From the Italian Ghibellino, from the German Waiblingen, from the Middle High German Wibellingen, the name of a castle in Swabia held by the Hohenstaufen dynasty (the township of Waiblingen in modern Germany), from Old High German Weibilinga & Weibelingen which may have been a suffixed form of the personal names Wabilo & Wahilo.  Ghibelline & Ghibellinism are nouns, guelphic is an adjective; the noun plural is Ghibellines.

Frederick I, Holy Roman Emperor (circa 1843), oil on canvas by François-Édouard Picot (1786–1868).  Before Lindsay Lohan re-defined rangaism, Frederick Barbarossa was history's most famous redhead.

The Guelf and Ghibelline were members of two opposing factions in Italian and German politics during the Middle Ages, the Guelfs supporting the claims of the papacy to temporal power while the Ghibellines were aligned with the Holy Roman (German) Emperors.  A variant of one of the many types of “state vs church” conflicts which have played out over the last thousand-odd years, the disputes between the Guelfs and Ghibellines contributed to making the strife within northern Italian cities chronic in the thirteenth & fourteenth centuries.  It was the Hohenstaufen emperor Frederick Barbarossa who in the twelfth century resorted to armed force in an attempt to reassert imperial authority over northern Italy, his military ventures opposed not only by the Lombard and Tuscan communes which wished to preserve their autonomy within the empire, but also by the newly elected pope (Alexander III, circa 1104-1181; pope 1159-1181).  Thus was the peninsula split between those who sought to increase their power-bases and political influence and those (with the pope in the vanguard) determined to resist renewed imperial interference.

Othone vien licentiato dal Pontefice, e dal doge perche vada a trattar la pace con l'Imperator suo padre, (Pope Alexander III and Doge Ziani sending Otto to negotiate peace with his father Emperor Frederick Barbarossa), etching (circa 1720) after the painting executed by Palma il Giovane (Iacopo Negretti, circa 1549-1628) for the Sala del Maggior Consiglio in the Palazzo Ducale, Venice, British Museum, London.  The painting depicts Otto kneeling before the pope on his elevated throne; the Doge stands beside him; the crowd to the left and right.  The Doge was the chief magistrate in the republics of Venice and Genoa, the word from the Venetian Doxe, from the Latin ducem, accusative of dux (leader, prince).   It was a doublet of duke and dux and the source of Duce (leader) made infamous by Benito Mussolini (1883-1945; prime-minister of Italy 1922-1943).

Doge is now most often recognized (as Dogecoin) as a cryptocurrency which began as an “in-joke” but took on a life of its own and (as DOGE) the acronym for the US federal government’s Department of Government Efficiency, a cost-cutting apparatus with the stated aim (ultimately) of reducing the national debt.  DOGE was created by one of the earliest executive orders of Donald Trump’s (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) second term and although its status within (or parallel with) the bureaucracy is unclear, it appears still to exist.  Analysis of its effects have been published with estimates of the outcome thus far ranging from savings in excess of US$200 billion to additional costs over US$20 billion.  Those doing the math to come up with these numbers don’t use the same methods of calculation and do their work with different motivations and so sprawling is the US government it may be it will never be known quite what DOGE will eventually achieve.  The DOGE acronym was amusing but following the Australian general election of 1980, the Liberal-National Country (now the latter since 1982 called the National Party) coalition government set up a cabinet committee with a remit to reduce government expenditure and although it seems never to have received an official name, it was soon dubbed “the Razor Gang”, a re-purposing of a term from the 1920s which alluded to Sydney’s criminals switching from revolvers to switchblade knives after concealed handguns were outlawed.  “Razor Gang” does seem more evocative than “DOGE”.

The conflicts between cities pre-dated the use of Guelf and Ghibelline, the deployment of which became a sort of descriptive codification of the factions as the inter & intra-city antagonisms intensified.  Although many of the potted histories of the era lend the impression the conflict was binary as forces coalesced around the Guelfs and Ghibellines, each side existed with what political scientists call “cross-cutting cleavages”: social, family, class, economic and even occupational alliances all at play.  Still, the characteristic depiction of Guelfs representing wealthy merchants, traders and bankers and Ghibellines (representing feudal aristocrats and the Italian equivalent of the landed gentry) was not inaccurate and especially ferocious in Florence, where the Guelfs were twice exiled.  Although as a piece of history the long-running conflict is understood as a political (and even theological although that does take some intellectual gymnastics) squabble, the series of wars fought between the mid-thirteenth and early fourteenth century, although on a smaller scale than many, were as brutal and bloody as any in the Middle Ages and were essentially between Guelf-controlled Florence and its allies (Montepulciano, Bologna & Orvieto) and its Ghibelline opponents (Pisa, Siena, Pistoia, and Arezzo).

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011.

After the Hohenstaufen loss of southern Italy in 1266 and the extinction of their line two year later, the meanings of Guelf and Ghibelline morphed, Guelfism becoming a system of alliances among those who supported the Angevin presence in southern Italy (including the Angevin rulers of Sicily themselves, the popes, and Florence with its Tuscan allies) while within the many cities where the Guelfs had been victorious, the forces became a kind of blend of political party and pressure group acting on behalf of the conservative, property-owning class dedicated to maintaining the exile of the Ghibellines whose holdings had been confiscated.  Ghibellinism, although there were periodic attempts at revivals, became more an expression of nostalgia for empire although during the later part of the fourteenth century, the practical significance both declined: the popes for decades re-located to France and the emperors solved the problem of northern Italy by pretending it didn’t exist.  For another century the divisions between Guelfs and Ghibelline lived as names for local factions but the days of meeting on the battlefield were over.

A depiction of a fourteenth century street fight between militias of the Guelf and Ghibelline factions in the Italian commune of Bologna by an unknown artist, published in Le croniche di Luccha (The Chronicles of Lucca) by apothecary Giovanni Sercambi (1347–1424).  While there may have been some artistic licence in this work, it does show one aspect of the way fighting was done and as well as roving urban gangs, there were set-piece battlefield events with the use of infantry and cavalry as well as instances of what would now be called guerrilla tactics or terrorism.

However, Europe is a place of long memories (“ancient traditions” also invented as required) and the terms were in the nineteenth century revived during the emergence of the movement which in 1861 would secure the unification of Italy: the “Neo-Guelfs” urged the pope to lead a federation of Italian states while the “Neo-Ghibellines” viewed the pope as a medieval barrier to both modernization and the development of Italian unity.  By the mid-twentieth century popes no longer laid claim to temporal authority but, as the “vicar of Christ on Earth” his Holiness still, on behalf of God, asserted proprietorship over the souls of Catholics and this annoyed Benito Mussolini (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & Prime-Minister of Italy 1922-1943) whose view was Fascism was not to be seen as simply a political ideology but the primary dynamic of the Italian state and the guiding light of its people.  Authoritarian states are never comfortable if having to co-exist with what might be alternative sources of authority whether that be the Roman Catholic Church, the Falun Gong or the Freemasons (although they’re probably right to be worried about the latter) and Mussolini mentally divided the country in the fascist-supporting Ghibellines (good) and the priest-ridden Guelfs (bad).  Mussolini did think of himself as something of a Roman Emperor, if not one especially holy.  Count Galeazzo Ciano (1903–1944; Italian foreign minister 1936-1943 (and the son-in-law of Benito Mussolini who ordered his execution)) was one of the more readable diarists of the wartime years and a couple of his entries record the way the terms had lived on (and would survive into the atomic age):

2 January 1939: “A conversation with the Duce [Benito Mussolini] and Pignatti [Count Bonifacio Pignatti Morano di Custozza (1877-1957; Italian Ambassador to the Holy See 1935-1939)].  The Duce told the ambassador to tell the Vatican that he is dissatisfied with the policy of the Holy See, especially with reference to the Catholic Action Movement.  He spoke also of the opposition of the clergy to the policy of the Axis, as well as to racial legislation.  Let them not be under any illusion as to the possibility of keeping Italy under the tutelage of the Church.  The power of the clergy is imposing, but more imposing is the power of the state, especially a Fascist state.  We do not want a conflict, but we are ready to support the policy of the state, and in such a case we shall arouse all the dormant anti-clerical rancor; let the Pope remember that Italy is Ghibelline.  Pignatti acted in a satisfactory manner.  He said that the Vatican has made many mistakes, but that the Pope is a man of good faith, and that he is the one who, more than any other prelate, thinks in terms of Italianism.  I have given him instructions to act tactfully. Notwithstanding Starace [confessed Freemason Achille Starace (1889–1945; Secretary of the National Fascist Party 1931-1939 who (along with Mussolini, his mistress and four other fascists) was on 29 April 1945 executed by partisans and hung by his ankles above a gas (petrol) station forecourt in Piazzale Loreto, Milan)], I should like to avoid a clash with the Vatican, which I should consider very harmful.”

Mussolini, his mistress and Starace among the seven hung from the rafters of an Esso gas station’s forecourt, Piazzale Loreto, Milan, 29 April 1945.

On the site there now sits a bank building, the ground floor of which is occupied by a McDonalds “family restaurant”.  Once an autopsy had been performed (clinically, one of the less necessary in medical history), Mussolini’s corpse was buried in a “secret” unmarked grave, but this was Italy so fascists soon discovered the location and exhumed the body, spiriting it away.  That caused a scandal and when eventually the government tracked down the remains, such was the wish to avoid upsetting either the (anti-fascist) Guelphs or (pro-fascist) Ghibellines, an accommodating abbot was found who agreed to find a quiet corner in his monastery.  For over a decade, there it sat until in the late 1950s it was returned to Mussolini’s widow, the need at the time being to appease the Ghibellines (ie the Italian right wing).  The Duce's remains reside now in a crypt at Mussolini’s birthplace which has become a pilgrimage spot for neo-fascists from many countries and in Italy, it’s possible to buy items such as Mussolini postcards and coffee mugs.  Of course the Vatican's gift shops have much papal merchandise for sale and despite the dramatic set-piece at the Esso gas station, what happened in 1945 really wasn't a victory of the Guelphs over the Ghibellines; since then the two sides have managed (mostly) peacefully to co-exist.

June 3, 1942: “Optimism prevails at the Palazzo Venezia on the progress of operations in Libya. The Duce talks today about the imminent siege of Tobruk and about the possibility of carrying the action as far as Marsa Matruk.  If these are roses… they will bloom.  The Duce was very hostile to the Vatican because of an article appearing in the Osservatore Romano [the daily newspaper of Vatican City (owned by the Holy See but not an official publication)] over the signature of Falchetto [“Falchetto” (little falcon) was the ambassador’s pseudonym, used when publishing quasi-official or interpretative commentary on relations between the Holy See and the Italian state, diplomatic developments or political issues of mutual concern, without these writings being treated as formal government statements.  What this meant was the statements could be read as reflecting viewpoint of the Italian embassy to the Holy See (and, by extension, of the Italian government itself) yet still providing the essential layer of “plausible deniability”].  The article spoke about Greek philosophy, but the real purpose was evident.  Guariglia [career diplomat Raffaele Guariglia, Baron di Vituso (1889–1970)] will take the matter up with the Secretariat of State of the Vatican. ‘I hate priests in their cassocks,’ said Mussolini, ‘but I hate even more and loathe those without cassocks [Italians who follow the Vatican line], who are vile Guelfs, a breed to be wiped out.’”  The Duce did though remain a realist and whatever might have been his private fantasies, never suggested, as Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) did during one of the many dark moments of his table talk: “sending a squad into the Vatican and clearing out that whole rotten crew.”  Tacitly, both Duce and Führer knew that to exert his influence, the pope didn’t need any divisions at his command.

Etching

Etching (pronounced ech-ing)

(1) The art, act or process of making designs or pictures on a metal plate, glass etc, by the corrosive action of an acid instead of by a burin.

(2) An impression, as on paper, taken from an etched plate.

(3) The design so produced.

(4) A flat (usually metal) plate bearing such a design.

1625–1635: The construct was etch + -ing.  The verb etch was from the Dutch etsen (to engrave by eating away the surface of with acids), from the German ätzen (to etch), from the Old High German azzon (to cause to bite or feed), from the Proto-Germanic atjaną, causative of etaną (to eat), from the primitive Indo-European root ed- (to eat) (from these sources English gained “eat”).  The suffix –ing was from the Middle English -ing, from the Old English –ing & -ung (in the sense of the modern -ing, as a suffix forming nouns from verbs), from the Proto-West Germanic –ingu & -ungu, from the Proto-Germanic –ingō & -ungō. It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian -enge, the West Frisian –ing, the Dutch –ing, The Low German –ing & -ink, the German –ung, the Swedish -ing and the Icelandic –ing; All the cognate forms were used for the same purpose as the English -ing).  The “etching scribe” was a needle-sharp steel tool for incising into plates in etching and the production of dry points.  Etching is a noun & verb; the noun plural is etchings.

The noun was the present participle and gerund of etch (the verbal noun from the verb etch) and was used also in the sense of “the art of engraving”; by the 1760s, it was used also to mean “a print etc, made from an etched plate" and the plates themselves.  The term etching (to cut into a surface with an acid or other corrosive substance in order to make a pattern) is most associated with the creation of printing plates for the production of artistic works but the technique was used also as a way to render decorative patterns on metal.  In modern use, it’s also a term used in the making of circuit boards.  In idiomatic use (often as “etched in the memory”), it’s used of events, ideas etc which are especially memorable (for reasons good and ill) and as a slang word meaning “to sketch; quickly to draw”.  The Etch A Sketch drawing toy was introduced 1960 by Ohio Art Company; a kind of miniature plotter, it was a screen with two knobs which moved a stylus horizontally & vertically, displacing an aluminum powder to produce solid lines.  To delete the creation, the user physically shook the device which returned the powder to its original position, blanking the screen.

Rembrandt's Jan Asselyn, Painter (1646) (left) and Faust (circa 1652).  Rembrandt (Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606-1669)) wasn’t the most prolific etcher but remains among the most famous and his output provides an illustrative case-study in the evolution of his mastering of the technique, his early work really quite diffident compared with his later boldness.

What came to be known as etching gained the name from the Germanic family of words meaning “eat & “to eat”, the transferred sense an allusion to the acid which literally would “eat the metal”.   Etching is an intaglio (from the Italian intagliare (to engrave)) technique in printmaking, a term which includes methods such as hard and soft ground etching, engraving, dry-point, mezzotint and aquatint, all of which use an ink transferring process.  In this, a design is etched into a plate, the ink added over the whole surface plate before a scrim (historically starched cheesecloth) is used to force the ink into the etched areas and remove any excess.  Subsequently, the plate (along with dampened paper) is run through a press at high pressure, forcing the paper into etched areas containing the ink.  The earliest known signed and dated etching was created by Swiss Renaissance goldsmith Urs Graf (circa 1485-circa 1525) in 1513 and it’s from those who worked with gold that almost all forms of engraving are ultimately derived.

Lindsay Lohan, 1998, rendered in the style of etchings.

A phrase which was so beloved by comedy writers in the early-mid twentieth century that it became a cliché was “Want to come up and see my etchings?”, a euphemism for seduction.  Probably now a “stranded phrase”, the saying was based on some fragments of text in a novel by Horatio Alger Jr (1832–1899), a US author regarded as the first to formalize as genre fiction the “rags-to-riches” stories which had since the early days of the republic been the essence of the “American Dream” although it wasn’t until the twentieth century the term came into common use (often it’s now used ironically).

The practice of making etchings, woodcuts or engravings of famous paintings became popular, both artistically and commercially (which may for this purpose be much the same thing) in the late sixteenth century and developed over the next 250-odd years, an evolution tied closely to technological progress in printmaking and the materials available to artists.  The trend seems to have been accelerated by the spread in northern Europe (notably certain districts in Antwerp, Rome and Paris) of copperplate etching & engraving and while it may be dubious to draw conclusions from the works which have survived, the artists most re-produced clearly included Titian (Tiziano Vecellio, circa 1490-1576), Raphael (Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino, 1483–1520) and Michelangelo (Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni; 1475–1564), the most prolific in the business of reproductive engraving including the Dutch specialist Cornelis Cort (circa 1533–circa 1578 and known in Italy where he spent his final years as Cornelio Fiammingo) and the Flemish Sadeler family, scions of which operated in many European cities.

Melencolia I (Melancholy I (1514)), etching by the German painter & printmaker Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528).

By the seventeenth century, the practice was well established and an entrenched part of the art market, fulfilling some of the functions which would later be absorbed by photography and Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640), among others, employed in his studio engravers whose task was to reproduce his paintings for sale with those etchings available in a variety of sizes (and thus price-points so there’s little which is new in the structures of the modern art market).  Again, in the eighteenth century, technological determinism interplayed with public taste as techniques were refined to adapt the works to what wasn’t exactly a production line but certainly an arrangement which made possible larger and more rapid volumes with printing houses commissioning runs (which could be in the hundreds) of engravings following (faithfully and not) British and Continental paintings, advances in mezzotint meaning a greater tonal range had become possible, mimicking the light and shade of oil paintings.  In genteel homes, various institutions and even museums, it was entirely respectable to have hanging: “prints after the Old Masters”.

But as technology giveth, so can it taketh away and it was the late eighteenth century invention of lithography and, a few decades later photography, which triggered a decline in demand, the constantly improving quality of the new mediums gradually displacing reproductive etching in the marketplace although the tradition didn’t die as artists such as Francisco Goya (1746–1828), Eugène Delacroix (1798–1863) and Édouard Manet (1832–1883) maintained (or, in a sense, “revived”) etching as a creative rather than reproductive discipline and historians regards the early-mid nineteenth century as the era in which etching became a legitimate genre in art and not merely a means cheaply of distributing representations of existing works.

Self portrait: reflection (1996), etching by Lucian Freud (1922–2011).

Under modern copyright law, as a general principle, the selling of etchings of works still in copyright is not lawful without the permission from the holder of the rights and while details differ between jurisdictions, the basic rule of modern law (the Berne Convention, EU directives, national statutes) is that the sale (or even public display) of a reproduction or derivative work (the latter something which obviously follows without being an obvious duplicate of a copyrighted artwork) requires the consent of the copyright owner.  That protection tends in most jurisdictions to last 70 years after the death of the artist (the “life + 70” rule) and what matters is not that a reproduction is new (in the sense of the physical object) but that it is derivative because (1) to a high degree it emulates the composition, form(s), and expression of the original and (2) in appearance it to a high degree resembles a pre-existing, protected work.  Thus, if produced and offered for sale without permission, the object will infringe on the rights of whoever holds exclusive or delegated rights of reproduction or adaptation.  With exact or close replicas it’s not difficult for court to determine whether rights have been violated but at the margins, such as where works are “in the style of”, of “influenced by”, judgments are made on a case-by-case basis, the best publicized in recent years being those involving pop music.

The Lovers (circa 1528), etching by Parmigianino (Girolamo Francesco Maria Mazzola, 1503-1540) of the Italian Mannerist school.

All that means is one (usually) can sell reproductions of works by those dead for at least 70 years and even works “in their style” as long as there’s no attempt to misrepresent them as the product of their original artist’s hand.  There are in copyright exceptions such as “fair dealing” & “fair use” but their range is narrow and limited to fields such as criticism, review, education or satire and does not extend to normal commercial transactions.  Additionally, there’s a work-around in that if something is found to have been sufficiently “transformed”, it can be regarded as a new work but this exception tightly is policed and the threshold high.  Additionally, in recent years, as museums and galleries have put content on-line, what has emerged is the additional complication of such an institution hanging on its walls paintings long out of copyright yet asserting copyright on its commissioned photographs of those works.  That development must have delighted lawyers working in the lucrative field but the courts came to read-down the scope, most following the principles explained in an action before the US Federal District Court (Bridgeman Art Library v. Corel Corp., 36 F. Supp. 2d 191 (S.D.N.Y. 1999), which held (1) copyright in a photograph can in many cases exist but, (2) if a photograph is a “purely mechanical copy of a public-domain work” there usually no protection, even if the taking of the image required technical skill in lighting, angle selection and such.

Morphinomanes (Morphine Addicts, 1887), etching and and drypoint by French artist Albert Besnard (1849–1934).

There was still something for the lawyers because inherently there remained two separate layers of rights at play: (1) copyright (intellectual property) which belongs usually to the artist or their estate and (2) the property rights (ownership of the physical object) which are held by whomever may possess lawful title to the object (this may align with possession but not of necessity).  In other words a museum will likely own the paint & canvas yet not the copyright, something analogous with the discovery made by the few diligent souls who troubled themselves to read the small print they’d agreed to when installing software: in most cases one had lawful title to the physical media (diskette, CD, DVD etc) but often nothing more than a revocable licence to use a single instance of the software. It’s possible lawfully to produce and sell etchings of Goya (the artist having had the decency to drop dead more than 70 years ago) but one may not without permission reproduce or trace from a museum’s copyrighted photo of a Goya (and institutions sometimes maintain separate conditions of use for low and high-resolution images).  Even if one paints, draws or etches by hand, depending on this and that, a court can still hold there’s been a “substantial reproduction” of the composition, colour and such has been effected and thus there’s been an infringement of the underlying copyright.  So, the rules in this area are (1) proceed with caution if producing art not wholly original and (2) if a young lady is asked: “Want to come up and see my etchings?”, she should proceed with caution.

Quadraphonic

Quadraphonic (pronounced kwod-ruh-fon-ik)

(1) Of, noting, or pertaining to the recording and reproduction of sound over four separate transmission or direct reproduction channels instead of the customary two of the stereo system.

(2) A quadraphonic recording.

(3) A class of enhanced stereophonic music equipment developed in the 1960s.

1969: An irregular formation of quadra, a variant (like quadru) from the older Latin form quadri- (four) + phonic from the Ancient Greek phonē (sound, voice).  All the Latin forms were related quattor (four) from the primitive Indo-European kwetwer (four).  Phonē was from the primitive Indo-European bha (to speak, tell, say) which was the source also of the Latin fari (to speak) and fama (talk, report).  Phonic, as an adjective in the sense of “pertaining to sound; acoustics" was used in English as early as 1793. Those for whom linguistic hygiene is a thing approved not at all of quadraphonic because it was a hybrid built from Latin and Greek.  They preferred either the generic surround sound which emerged later or the pure Latin lineage of quadrasonic (sonic from sonō (make a noise, sound)) which appeared as early as 1970 although it seems to have been invented as a marketing term rather than by disgruntled pedants.  Quadraphonic, quadrasonic and surround sound all refer to essentially the same thing: the reproduction of front-to-back sound distribution in addition to side-to-side stereo.  In live performances, this had been done for centuries and four-channel recording, though not mainstream, was by the 1950s, not uncommon.  Quadraphonic is and adjective but had been used as a noun; the (equally irregular) noun plural is quadraphonics.

Surround sound

Quadraphonic was an early attempt to mass-market surround sound.  It used four sound channels with four physical speakers intended to be positioned at the four corners of the listening space and each channel could reproduce a signal, in whole or in part, independent of the others.  It was briefly popular with manufacturers during the early 1970s, many of which attempted to position it as the successor to stereo as the default standard but consumers were never convinced and quadraphonic was a commercial failure, both because of technical issues and the multitude of implementations and incompatibilities between systems; many manufacturers built equipment to their own specifications and no standard was defined, a mistake not repeated a generation later with the CD (compact disc).  Nor was quadraphonic a bolt-on to existing equipment; it required new, more expensive hardware.

Quadraphonic audio reproduction from vinyl was patchy and manufacturers used different systems to work around the problems but few were successful and the physical wear of vinyl tended always to diminish the quality.  Tape systems also existed, capable of playing four or eight discrete channels and released in reel-to-reel and 8-track cartridge formats, the former more robust but never suited to the needs of mass-market consumers.  The rise of home theatre products in the late 1990s resurrected interest in multi-channel audio, now called “surround sound” and most often implemented in the six speaker 5.1 standard.  Modern electronics and the elimination of vinyl and tape as storage media allowed engineers to solve the problems which beset quadraphonic but there remain audiophiles who insist, under perfect conditions, quadraphonic remains the superior form of audio transmission for the human ear.

Highway Hi-Fi record player in 1956 Dodge.

First commercially available in 1965, the eight-track cartridge format (which would later become the evil henchman of quadraphonic) convinced manufacturers it was the next big thing and they rushed to mass-production and one genuine reason for the appeal was that the 8-track cartridge was the first device which was practical for use as in-car entertainment.  During the 1950s, the US car industry had offered the option of record players, neatly integrated into the dashboard and in the relatively compact space of a vehicle's interior, the sound quality could be surprisingly high.  Although not obviously designed with acoustic properties optimized for music, the combination of parallel flat surfaces, a low ceiling and much soft, sound absorbing material did much to compensate for the small size and range offered by the speakers.  However, although they worked well when sitting still in showroom or in certain vehicles, on the road things could be different.  The records (the same size as the classic 7 inch (180 mm) 45 rpm "singles") played by means of a stylus (usually called "the needle") which physically traced the grooves etched into the plastic disks rotating at 16.66 rpm which, combined with an etching technique called "ultra micro-grooving" meant the some 45 minutes of music were available, a considerable advance on the 4-5 minutes of the standard single.  The pressings were also thicker than other records, better to resist the high temperatures caused by heat-soak from the engine and the environment although, in places like Arizona, warping was soon reported.  To keep the stylus in the track, the units were fitted with a shock-absorbing, spring enclosure and a counterweighted needle arm.  Improbably, in testing, the system performed faultlessly even under the most adverse road conditions so the designers presented the product for corporate approval.  At that point there was a delay because the designers worked for the Colombia Broadcasting Corporation (CBS) which had affiliations with thousands of radio stations all over the country and no wish to cannibalize their own markets; if people could play records in their cars, the huge income stream CBS gained from advertising would be threatened as drivers tuned out.  The proposal was rejected.

Highway Hi-Fi record player in 1956 Plymouth.

Discouraged but not deterred, the engineers went to Detroit and demonstrated the players to Chrysler which had their test-drivers subject the test vehicles to pot-holes, railway tracks and rolling undulations.  The players again performed faultlessly and Chrysler, always looking for some novelty, placed an order for 18,000, a lucrative lure which convinced even CBS to authorize production, their enthusiasm made all the greater by the proprietary format of the disks which meant CBS would be the exclusive source.  So, late in 1956, Chrysler announced the option of "Highway Hi-Fi", a factory-installed record player mounted under the car's dashboard at a cost of (US$200 (some US$1750 in 2023 terms)).  Highway Hi-Fi came with six disks, the content of which reflected the reactionary tastes of CBS executives and their desire to ensure people still got their popular music from radio stations but the market response was positive, Chrysler selling almost 4000 of the things in their first year, the early adopters adopting with their usual alacrity.

The second generation of players used standard 45 rpm singles: Austin A55 Farina (left) and George Harrison's (1943–2001) Jaguar E-Type S1 (right); all four Beatles had the players fitted in their cars and lead guitarist Harrison is pictured here stocking his 14-stack array.  The lady on the left presumably listened to different music than the Beatle on the right (although their in-car hardware was identical) but tastes can't always be predicted according to stereotype; although he disapproved of most modern music, Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi deputy Führer 1933-1941) told the governor of Spandau prison (where he spent 40 of his 46 years in captivity) he enjoyed The Beatles because their tunes "were melodic".  

At that point, problems surfaced.  Tested exclusively in softly-sprung, luxury cars on CBS's and Chrysler's executive fleets, the Highway Hi-Fi had to some extent been isolated from the vicissitudes of the road but when fitted to cheaper models with nothing like the same degree of isolation, the styluses indeed jumped around and complaints flowed, something not helped by dealers and mechanics not being trained in their maintenance; even to audio shops the unique mechanism was a mystery.  Word spread, sales collapsed and quietly the the option was withdrawn in 1957.  The idea however didn't die and by the early 1960s, others had entered the field and solved most of the problems, disks now upside-down which made maintaining contact simpler and now standard 45 rpm records could be used, meaning unlimited content and the inherent limitation of the 4 minute playing time was overcome with the use of a 14-disk stacker, anticipating the approach taken with CDs three decades later.  Chrysler tried again by the market was now wary and the option was again soon dropped.

1966 Ford Mustang with factory-fitted 8-track player.

Clearly though, there was demand for in-car entertainment, the content of which was not dictated by radio station programme directors and for many there were the additional attractions of not having to endure listening either to advertising or DJs, as inane then as now.  It was obvious to all tape offered possibilities but although magnetic tape recorders had appeared as early as 1930s, they were bulky, fragile complicated and expensive, all factors which mitigated against their use as a consumer product fitted to a car.  Attention was thus devoted to reducing size and complexity so the tape could be installed in a removable cartridge and by 1963, a consortium including, inter alia, Lear, RCA, Ford & Ampex had perfected 8-track tape which was small, simple, durable and able to store over an hour of music.  Indeed, so good was the standard of reproduction that to take advantage of it, it had to be connected to high quality speakers with wiring just as good, something which limited the initial adoption to manufacturers such as Rolls-Royce and Cadillac or the more expensive ranges of others although Ford's supporting gesture late in 1965 of offering the option on all models was soon emulated.  Economies of scale soon worked its usual wonders and the 8-track player became an industry standard, available even in cheaper models and as an after-market accessory, some speculating the format might replace LP records in the home.

Lindsay Lohan's A Little More Personal (Raw) as it would have appeared if released in the 8-Track format.

That never happened although the home units were widely available and by the late 1960s, the 8-track was a big seller for all purposes where portability was needed.  It maintained this position until the early 1970s when, with remarkable suddenness, it was supplanted the the cassette, a design dating from 1962 which had been smaller and cheaper but also inferior in sound delivery and without the broad content offered by the 8-track supply system.  That all changed by 1970 and from that point the 8-track was in decline, reduced to a niche by late in the decade, the CD in the 1980s the final nail in the coffin although it did for a while retain an allure, Jensen specifying an expensive Lear 8-track for the Interceptor SP in 1971, despite consumer reports at the time confirming cassettes were now a better choice.  The market preferring the cheaper and conveniently smaller cassette tapes meant warehouses were soon full of 8-track players and buyers were scarce.  In Australia, GMH (General Motor Holden) by 1975 had nearly a thousand in the inventory which also bulged with 600-odd Monaro body-shells, neither of which were attracting customers.  Fortunately, GMH was well-acquainted with the concept of the "parts-bin special" whereby old, unsaleable items are bundled together and sold at what appears a discount, based for advertising purposes on a book-value retail price there’s no longer any chance of realizing.

1976 Holden HX LE

Thus created was the high-priced, limited edition Holden LE (not badged as a Monaro although it so obviously looked like one that they've never been known as anything else), in "LE Red" (metallic crimson) with gold pin-striping, Polycast "Honeycomb" wheels, fake (plastic) burl walnut trim, deep cut-pile (polyester) carpet and crushed velour (polyester) upholstery with plaid inserts over vinyl surrounds in matching shades; in the 1970s, this was tasteful.  Not exactly suited to the image of luxury were the front and rear spoilers but they too were sitting unloved in the warehouse so they became part of the package and, this being the 1970s, rear-seat occupants got their own cigar lighter, conveniently located above the central ashtray.  Not designed for the purpose, the eight-track cartridge player crudely was bolted to the console but the audio quality was good and five-hundred and eighty LEs were made, GMH pleasantly surprised at how quickly they sold.  When new, they listed at Aus$11,500, a pleasingly profitable premium of some 35% above the unwanted vehicle on which it was based.  These days, examples are advertised for sale for (Aus$) six-figure sums but those who now buy a LE do so for reasons other than specific-performance.  Although of compact size (in US terms) and fitted with a 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8, it could achieve barely 110 mph (175 km/h), acceleration was lethargic by earlier and (much) later standards yet fuel consumption was very high; slow and thirsty the price to be paid for the early implementations of the emission control devices bolted to engines designed during more toxic times.

1976 Holden HX LE Polycast "Honeycomb" wheel (14 x 7").

The Polycast process used a conventional steel wheel with a decorative face of molded polyurethane, attached with mechanical fasteners or bonded using adhesives (in some, both methods were applied) and although some snobs still call them "fake alloy" wheels, legitimately, they're a category of their own.  Because the rubbery, molded plastic fulfilled no structural purpose, designers were able to create intricate shapes which would then have been too delicate or complex to render (at an acceptable cost) in any sort of metal.  By consensus, some of the Ploycast wheels were among the best looking of the decade and, unstressed, they were strong, durable and long-lasting while the manufacturers liked them because the tooling and production costs were much lower than for aluminium or magnesium-alloy.  Another benefit was, being purely decorative (essentially a permanently attached wheelcover), their use faced no regulatory barriers; US safety rules were even then strict and Citroën at the time didn't both seeking approval for the more exotic "resin" wheels offered in Europe on the SM).

Aftermath of the pace car crash, Indianapolis 500, 29 May 1971; dozens were injured but there were no fatalities, despite impact with the well-populated camera stand being estimated at 60 mph (100 km/h).

The Holden LE's wheels came straight from the Pontiac parts bin in the US where they'd first appeared on the 1971 Firebird Trans-Am.  The concept proved popular with manufacturers and a set of Motor Wheels' "Exiter" (14" x 7", part number 36830 and advertised also as "Exciter") was fitted to the Dodge Challenger Pace car which crashed during the 1971 Indianapolis 500.  The crash was unrelated to the wheels, the driver (one of the Dodge dealers providing the pace car fleet) blaming the incident on somebody moving the traffic cone he'd used in practice as his pit-lane braking marker.    Motor Wheel's advertising copy: “What wheel can survive this beating?” and “...the new wheel too tough for the 'mean machine'” predated the crash at Indianapolis and was intended to emphasise the strength of the method of construction.

Twenty years on, the “parts bin special” idea was a part of local story-telling.  Although most doubt the tale, it's commonly recounted the 85 HSV VS GTS-R Commodores Holden built in 1996 were all finished in the same shade of yellow because of a cancelled order for that number of cars in "taxi spec", the Victorian government having mandated that color for the state's cabs.  While a pleasing industry myth, most suspect it's one of those coincidences and the government's announcement came after the bodies for the GTS-R had already been painted.  Being "taxi yellow" doesn't appear to have deterred demand and examples now sell for well into six figures (in Aus$).      

1971 Holden HQ Monaro LS 350

The overwrought and bling-laden Holden LE typified the tendency during the 1970s and of US manufacturers and their colonial off-shoots to take an elegant design and, with a heavy-handed re-style, distort it into something ugly.  A preview of the later “malaise era”, it was rare for a facelift to improve the original.  The HQ Holden (1971-1974) was admired for an delicacy of line and fine detailing; what followed over three subsequent generations lacked that restraint although to be fair, while the last of the series (HZ, 1977-1980) ascetically wasn't as pleasing as the first, dynamically, it was much-improved.

In English, malaise was an un-adapted loanword from the French malaise (ill ease), the construct being mal- (bad, badly) + aise (ease).  It was used to describe (1) a feeling of general bodily discomfort, fatigue or unpleasantness (sometimes associated with the onset of illness), (2) an ambiguous feeling of mental or moral depression (the sense tending more to “melancholy” than “angst”) and (3) ill will or hurtful feelings for others.  The US cars of the years between 1974-1984 (some say it went on a bit longer) came to be called “malaise era” cars, the name from the thoughtful but perhaps unfortunate “Crisis of Confidence” address Jimmy Carter (1924-2024; US president 1977-1981) delivered in July 1979.  Carter’s years of malaise remains emblematic the America of the late 1970s (a time of stagflation, oil-shock induced energy price-rises & shortages, high interest rates and general gloom) but the details have become blurred.  The use of the word “malaise” emerged from a retreat the president had convened at the Camp David retreat after concluding neither he, his advisors or the entire machinery of government could come up with solution to the nation’s many problems.  Attended by notables from the clergy, academia and other realms including the governor of Arkansas, BillClinton (b 1946; US president 1993-2001), the curious event prompted one historian to describe it as “…the most remarkable exercise in presidential navel-gazing in American history…” but what did lodge in Carter’s memory was an observation by the pollster Patrick Caddell (1950–2019) that after some fifteen years of trauma including assassinations, race riots, the war in Vietnam and Watergate, the nation was experiencing a “malaise” and the president decided this notion would be the centrepiece of his address to the people.

Malaise: 1978 Ford Mustang II King Cobra.

An emblematic malaise era machine, twenty-first century viewers would be surprised to learn it was possible for a relatively small, light car with a 302 cubic inch (4.9 litre) V8 to deliver such anaemic performance.  However, the Mustang II (1973-1978) was the the right car for the right car (debuting some weeks before the first oil shock) and was a great success.

The word “malaise” wasn’t included in the text of Carter’s speech but, replete with phrases like “…strikes at the very heart and soul and spirit of our national will…” & “…crisis of confidence…”, the tone was clear and almost universally the press called it the “malaise speech”.  Despite what has long been the popular perception, at the time the speech was not a political disaster and was well-received, Carter’s approval ratings surging; it was only as the year unfolded he came to be damned by his own words and if any single term is now associated with his unhappy single term, it's “malaise”.  As was customary for presidential addresses of this nature, the speech was nationally televised live by the three major commercial networks (ABC (American Broadcasting Company), CBS (Columbia Broadcasting System) & NBC (National Broadcasting Company)) and simultaneously broadcast by many radio stations, the total audience estimated at some 65 million (there was then no FoxNews but it's not difficult to predict what the nature of that commentary would have been).  Given the coverage, it’s certain the address contributed greatly to the eventual public disillusionment with the president and may thus have been an example of videomalaise (a term from late 1990s political science which linked voters’ decreasing trust in politicians with depictions of the latter on televised news).

Honorable exception: 1973 Pontiac Firebird Trans-Am SD-455.

Available only on the Firebird (Formula or Trans-AM) in 1973 & 1974, the SD-455 was one of the few bright spots of the malaise era although it did need slightly to be detuned for commercial release, its original 310 (HP) horsepower configuration able to pass the EPA's (Environmental Protection Authority) emission tests only if a devious "cheater" device was installed (shades of Volkswagen's later "dieselgate" although Pontiac got off with nothing more than a "slap on the wrist" rather than the billions it cost the equally guilty Germans).  The production version was rated at 290 HP which was still enough to make it the most powerful US car of its time.

The "malaise era" cars were so named because compared with the previous generations, they were heavier, slower, thirstier and less pleasant to drive, a collection of characteristics which weren't the fault of President Carter but he had the misfortune to be in the White House at the same time.  They were of course safer and less polluting but those advantages were hidden while the ugliness of the battering-ram bumper-bars, reduced power and sometimes tiresome driving characteristics were obvious.  When speaking of these mostly unlamented machines, the phrase “Malaise Era” is believed to have been coined by writer Murilee Martin (the pen name of Phil Greden) who used it first in 2007 on the website Jalopnik.   

1973 Ford Falcon XA GT Hardtop (RPO83).

In the era of the Holden LE, Ford Australia had it's own problem with unwanted two-door bodyshells.  Released too late to take advantage of what proved a market fad, Ford’s Falcon Hardtops (XA; 1972-1973, XB; 1973-1976 & XC; 1976-1979) never enjoyed the success of Holden’s Monaro (1968-1976), Chrysler’s Valiant Charger (1971-1978) or even that of Ford’s own, earlier Falcon Hardtop (XM; 1964-1965 & XP; 1965-1966).  The public’s increasing and unpredicted uninterest in the style meant that by 1976, like Holden, Ford had languishing in unwanted in their hands hundreds of body-shells for the big (in Australian terms although in the US they would have been classed “compacts”) coupés.  When released in 1972 Ford’s expectation was it would every year sell more than 10,000 Hardtops but that proved wildly optimistic and not even discounting and some “special editions” did much to stimulate demand.  By 1977 sales had dropped to a depressing 913 and with over 500 bodies in stock, the projection no more than 100 would attract buyers meant a surplus of 400; an embarrassing mistake.

Edsel Ford II with Falcon Cobra #001, publicity shot, Ford Australia's Head Office, Campbellfield, Victoria.  The badge below the Cobra decal reads 5.8; Australia switched to the metric system in 1973 but because of the nature of the machines, almost always the V8s are described either as 302 (4.9) or 351 (5.8), cubic inches being a muscle car motif. 

Scrapping them all had been discussed but in Australia at the time was Edsel Ford II (b 1948), great-grandson of Henry Ford (1863-1947), grandson of Edsel Ford (1893–1943) and the only son of Henry Ford II (1917–1987).  The scion had been sent to southern outpost to learn the family business and been appointed assistant managing director of Ford Australia; his solution profitably to shift the surplus hardtops was hardly original but, like many sequels, it worked.  What Edsel Ford suggested was to use the same approach which in 1976 had been such a success when applied in the US to the Mustang II (1973-1978): Create a dress-up package with the motifs of the original Shelby Mustangs (1965-1968), the most distinctive of which were the pair of broad, blue stripes running the vehicle’s full length.  In truth, the stripes had been merely an option on the early Shelby Mustangs but so emblematic of the breed did they become it’s now rare to see one un-striped.  The blinged-up Mustang IIs had been dubbed “Cobra II” and although mechanically unchanged, proved very popular.  One (unverified) story which is part of industry folklore claims the American’s suggestion was initially rejected by local management and discarded before a letter arrived from Ford’s Detroit head office telling the colonials that if Edsel Ford II wanted a Falcon Cobra with stripes, it must be done.  As Edsel's father once told a Lee Iacocca (1924–2019) who seemed to be getting ideas above his station: "Don't forget my name is on the building". 

Falcon Cobra #31.  The rear-facing bonnet (hood) scoop was the most obvious visual clue identifying the Option 97 (#002-031) cars although the after market responded and it became possible to buy replica scoops as well as the decals and plaques for those who wanted their own "Cobra look".

The Australian cars thus came to be “Cobra” and as well as providing a path to monetizing what had come to be seen as dead stock, the cars would also be a platform with which Ford could homologate some parts for use in racing.  The latter task was easy because in November 1977 Ford had built 13 “special order” XC Hardtops which conformed with the “evolution” rules of the Confederation of Australian Motor Sport (CAMS, then the regulatory body) for homologating parts for Group C touring car events.  Cognizant of the furore which had erupted in 1972 when high-output engines were homologated in road cars, the changes were mostly about durability and included enlarged rear wheel wells to accommodate wider wheels and tyres, a reverse hood (bonnet) scoop which drew desirable cool-air from the low-pressure area at the base of the windscreen, twin electric fans (switchable from the cockpit) which replaced the power-sapping engine-driven fan, a front tower brace (K-brace) which stiffened the body structure, an idler arm brace and front and rear spoilers.

Falcon Cobra #094 which was one of the "fully optioned" of the Option 96 build (of which there were 370) and being in the #081-200 run, it included the 351 V8, A/C (air-conditioning), P/W (power steering) & P/W (power windows).

A prototype Falcon Cobra was built in April 1978 with production beginning that July.  Unusually, all were originally painted Bold Blue before the areas which would become the stripes and sill & wheel-arch highlights were masked before a coating of Sno White was applied over the top.  Thin Olympic (Blaze) Blue accent stripes separated the colors and “Cobra” decals were fitted to the sides and rear.  That sounds like much wasted paint but the cost-breakdown on the production line must have been compelling because when the Spelling-Goldberg television series Starsky & Hutch (1975-1979) became popular, it was clear one of the stars of the show was the red two-door Ford Gran Torino with the a large white vector stripe so Ford produced a run of some 1,300 replicas.  All were produced in 1976 (the cars used for the filming were variously 1974, 1975 & 1976 models, the body changing little in these years) and Ford painted the cars Polar White (Code 9D) before masking-out the stripe and then repainting the whole in Bright Red (code 2B).  One quirk of the run was that by March 1976 the shade of red used for the Torinos in the TV series was no longer offered so the replicas, uniquely that years, used the earlier color.  Each of the 400 Falcon Cobras built was fitted with a sequentially numbered dashboard plaque (001 to 400) and the production breakdown was:

#001: Created for promotional use, it was allocated for the photo-sessions from which came the images used in the first brochures (351 automatic).

#002-031: The Option 97 run which contained the parts and modifications intended for competition and produced in conformity with CAMS’s “evolution” rules (351 manual).

#032-041: 351 manual with A/C & P/S.

#042-080: 351 manual with A/C, P/S & P/W.

#081-200: 351 automatic with A/C, P/S & P/W.

#201-300: 302 manual.

#301-360 (except 351): 302 automatic with A/C & P/S.

#351: 351 manual.

#361-400: 302 automatic with A/C, P/S & P/W.

Moffat Ford Dealers team cars in the Hardie-Ferodo 1000 at Bathurst, finishing 1-2 in 1977 (left) and on the opening lap in 1978 (right).  In 1978, the cars (actually 1976 XB models modified to resemble XCs) matched their 1977 qualifying pace by starting second & third on the grid but in the race both recorded a DNF (did not finish). 

The Option 97 run (#002-031) included the modifications fitted to the 13 cars built in November 1997 but also included was engine & transmission oil coolers, a tramp rod (fitted only to the left-side because most racing in Australia is on anti-clockwise circuits and most turns thus to the left) and a special front spoiler which directed cooling air to the front brakes.  Visually, the Option 97 run was differentiated from the rest by the (functional) bonnet scoop and a pair of Scheel front bucket seats (part number KBA90018) in black corduroy cloth. Collectively, the 370 Option 96 and 30 Option 97 cars made up the 400 SVP (Special Value Pack) that was the Falcon Cobra.  The Cobra’s blue & white livery appeared on the race tracks in 1978 but the best known (the pair run by Allan Moffat's (v 1939) “Moffat Ford Dealers” team were actually modified XB Hardtops built in 1976 and the same vehicles which had completed the photogenic 1-2 at Bathurst in 1977.