Siren

Siren (pronounced sahy-ruhn)

(1) In classical mythology, one of several sea nymphs, sometimes depicted as part-woman, part-bird (and sometimes as sisters) who, with their seductive singing (their “siren song” or “siren call”), lured mariners to destruction on the rocky shore.

(2) A woman who sings sweetly and charms.

(3) In slang, a seductively beautiful or charming woman, especially one who beguiles men; a seductress, temptress or vamp; a dangerous woman who preys on the weaknesses and susceptibilities (there are a few of both).

(4) An acoustical instrument for producing musical tones, consisting essentially of a disk pierced with holes arranged equidistantly in a circle, rotated over a jet or stream of compressed air, steam or the like, so that the stream is alternately interrupted and allowed to pass.

(5) An variation of this implement, making a piercingly loud sound and used as a whistle, fog signal, or warning device; the sound made by such a device.

(6) In zoology, (1) any of several aquatic, eel-like salamanders of the family Sirenidae, having permanent external gills, small forelimbs and no posterior limbs, (2) a member of Sirenia, an order of mammals or (3) any of various nymphalid butterflies of the genus Hestina.

(7) Anything seductive or tempting (especially if potentially dangerous or harmful (something said to exert “a siren call” on one’s desire).

(8) In music, a musical instrument (one of the few aerophones in the percussion section of the symphony orchestra).

(9) An instrument for demonstrating the laws of beats and combination tones.

(10) In astronomy & astrophysics, an astrophysical event able to be used for calculating cosmic distances.

(11) As “siren suit”, an overall-like one-piece garment introduced in the UK during the “Blitz” as something to be worn by those in air-raid shelters.  

1300-1350: From the Middle English siren & serein, from the Old French sereine, (the Modern French sereine dating from the twelfth century), from the Late Latin sīrēna and the Classical Latin Sīrēn & Sīrēna, from the Ancient Greek Σειρήν (Seirḗn).  The Seirēnes were the alluring sea nymphs of classical mythology and the figurative sense of “one who sings sweetly and charms” was first noted in the 1580s although the classical descriptions of them were mangled in medieval translations, resulting in some odd and fantastical notions of their appearance and it wasn’t unusual for them to be conflated with mermaids.  The Vulgate (the Biblia Vulgata, the fourth century translation of the Bible which, through the choices of words and senses made by the translator(s) had a profound effect on Christianity and Christendom) also gifted to Middle English the use of the word to describe an imaginary species of flying serpents, based on glossary explanations of the Latin sirenes in Isaiah 13:22 (“And the wild beasts of the islands shall cry in their desolate houses, and dragons in their pleasant palaces: and her time is near to come, and her days shall not be prolonged.”  (King James Version of the Bible (KJV, 1611)).  In the Greek, the word was used also to mean "a deceitful woman" although etymologists note that may have been to suggest she was “a binder, an entangler”, the sense from seira (cord, rope).  In zoology, the mammalian sense appeared first in French in Les entretiens d'Ariste et d'Eugène (Conversations between Ariste & Eugène) by the French Jesuit priest Dominique Bouhours (1628–1702) while the use to describe the aquatic salamander was introduced in 1766 by Swedish zoologist & physician Carl Linnaeus (1707–1778 and styled as Carl von Linné after 1761) for a genus of reptiles.  In organic chemistry, scientists noted the attraction exerted by the sirens of mythology and coined “sirenin” to describe a sexual attraction pheromone in some fungi of the genus Allomyces.  Less charmingly, in early twentieth century Australian urban slang, a “stem siren” was a prostitute; in the Australian way, often it was clipped to “stem”.

The use to describe the mechanical device “making a warning sound” was first recorded in 1879 when they were installed on steamboats and this may have been imitative of the similar French word.  In the course of the twentieth century, the things were adapted as audible warning devices for many purposes including air raids, emergency service vehicles and fire alarms (now mandatory in residential accommodation in many jurisdictions).  In schools, workplaces and other geographically large sites, they were used to mark the start and finish of shifts, lessons, meal breaks etc.  The Elizabethan era (1558-1603) adjectives sirenean, sirenian, sirenic, sirenical & sireny) went extinct but as late as the 1940s, the spelling variation sireen still occasionally appeared and not always as a deliberate archaism.  The writer & critic John Ruskin (1819–1900 and known for his fondness for young. beautiful creatures), used the rare sirenic so with that imprimatur, some modern aesthete might be tempted to revive the form.  Siren is a noun & verb, sirenize is a verb, sirenlike, sirenless, sirenical & sirenic are adjectives; the noun plural is sirens or (the rare) sirenes.

Odysseus and the Sirens

In Greek mythology, the Sirens were sea demons, half-woman and half bird (although there were variants in the tales).  They were said to be the daughters of Achelous and either Melpomene, Sterope or Terpsichore, Phorcys often named as their father, while it was also related they were born of the blood of Achelous when he was wounded by Heracles. There were two Sirens in the Odyssey (Homer’s eighth century BC epic poem following the ten year trek of King Odysseus (Ulysses) returning to his home island Ithaca after the decade-long Trojan War) but in the works of later authors there could be four (more often three).  Historians attribute variations in the myths to (1) authorial innovation or (2) in an age of limited literacy, poetry spread in oral performance, meaning details could become blurred.  What was consistent was the musical virtuosity of the Sirens, a popular depiction of them as a three-piece ensemble, one playing the flute and one the lyre while another sang her songs.

Sirens and the Night (1865), oil on canvas by William Edward Frost (1810-1877).

The Sirens used their lyrical and earthly charms to lure sailors to their death; attracted by the enchanting music and voices, the seduced seafarers would sail their ships too close to the rocky coast of the nymphs' island and there be shipwrecked.  Not untypically for the myths of Antiquity, the Sirens are said to have had many homes.  The Romans said they lived on some small islands called Sirenum scopuli while later authors place them variously on the islands of Anthemoessa, on Cape Pelorum, on the islands of the Sirenuse, near Paestum, or in Capreae.  All were places with rocky coasts and tall cliffs and thus for ships potentially lethal places although the fate of sailors was more gruesome, the Sirens devouring them.  The Argonauts sailed close to the Sirens, but, using the same principle as “radio jamming” in the twentieth century, Orpheus sang as long as the crew was within earshot of them (“drowning out their signal”), so none were lured (except the unfortunate Butes, carried away by Aphrodite after he fell victim).

Temptress in Siren mode: Lindsay Lohan, First Point (2011).

It was Odysseus who most famously escaped the sirens.  Longing to hear their songs but, forewarned by Circe and having no wish to be shipwrecked and devoured, he had his sailors fill their ears with beeswax, rendering them deaf.  Then, he ordered he be tied to the mast, telling his crew that whatever he said, they were not to release him but instead tighten the knots, not cutting the bonds until the ship had sailed far from the coast.  Of course, approaching the rocks, he heard the lovely voices and implored the crew to release him but they followed their skipper’s orders, not setting him free until the danger had passed.  Some writers claimed the Sirens were doomed to die if a man heard their singing and escaped and, as Odysseus sailed off, they flung themselves into the waters and drowned but, among the myths, that was not always their fate.  The idea of the Sirens persists in idiomatic use: the term “siren sound” refers to words or something exerting a particularly compelling attraction but “siren song” or “siren call” can be used of something not directly audible, such as the thoughts evoked by a painting or even a concept; populism, fascism & communism have all been described thus.  That idiomatic use describes an enticing but dangerous appeal, especially a misleading one.

The Roman Poet Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso; 43 BC–17 AD) wrote that the Sirens were once ordinary girls, companions of Persephone; in his telling they were something “nice girls from good families who got led astray by mixing with the wrong crowd”.  When Persephone was abducted by Pluto, they asked the gods for wings so they could soar in the skies to help them search for their lost companion; that’s the most romantic explanation for the “half-woman and half bird” motif.  More unforgiving writers attributed the transformation to (1) the anger felt by Demeter when the Sirens failed to prevent the abduction of her daughter or (2) the wrath of Aphrodite who sought to deprived them of their feminine beauty because they scorned the pleasures of love.  A twist on that was that after their transformation, they made the mistake of trying to rival the muses who avenged the slight by plucking the Sirens’ feathers.  In a literary sense, the nymphs certainly exerted on authors a siren call.  The tomb of the Siren Parthenope was said to be in Naples, where her body had been cast upon the shore and that geographical connection is in the narrative strand in which Parthenope was a hauntingly beautiful Phrygian girl who fell in love with Metiochus but could not bring herself to break her vow of chastity.  She cut off her hair and ran off into exile in Campania (close to Naples) where she dedicated herself to Dionysus, something possibly the origin of Aphrodite’s disapprobation; it was Aphrodite who turned Parthenope into a Siren as punishment for abandoning her love.  The Sirens were also said to sing for the blessed in the Islands of the Blessed; because they could play the celestial harmonies, they were often depicted on sarcophagi.

First Point (2011) by Richard Phillips (b 1962), hosted by Vimeo by courtesy of Richard Phillips and Gagosian Gallery.  Lindsay Lohan as a siren; it would seem almost a calling.  Screened in conjunction with the 54^th international exhibition of the Venice Biennale (June 2011), First Point was a short film said by the diredctor to represent a “new kind of portraiture.”  Filmed in Malibu, California, the piece was included in the Commercial Break series, presented by Moscow's Garage Center for Contemporary Culture (now Garage Museum of Contemporary Art); although the promotional notes indicated it would include footage of the ankle monitor she helped make famous, the device doesn't appear in the final cut.

Directed by: Richard Phillips & Taylor Steele

Director of Photography: Todd Heater

Costume Designer: Ellen Mirojnick

Creative Director: Dominic Sidhu

Art Director: Kyra Griffin

Editor: Haines Hall

Color mastering: Pascal Dangin for Boxmotion

Music: Tamaryn & Rex John Shelverton

The Chrysler Air Raid Siren and the Firepower V8  

According to Guinness World Records, the loudest sirens ever were the 350-odd built in the early 1950s by Chrysler for the US government and installed around the country to warn of an impending nuclear attack by the Soviet Union.  The maximum volume the devices generated was recorded (at a distance of 100 feet (30.5 m)) as 138 dB (decibels), a level at which a human would suffer at least temporary deafness if within around 200 feet (60 m) during operation.  Guinness noted the compressor discharge throughput at peak volume was 74 m³ (2,610 cubic feet at 7 lb per square inch) of air per second and the physics of fluid dynamics (air a fluid in this context) was such this would have caused a sheet of paper in the path spontaneously to ignite.  By comparison the now retired SST (supersonic transport) airline Concorde at take-off produced noise levels between 112-114 dB at a distance of 100 feet and even afterburner equipped military jets (F-16, F-35 etc) haven’t been recorded as generating levels as high as 138 dB.

Although there were ebbs in the tensions, the “High Cold War” is defined usually as the time between the early 1950s and late 1960s, the public's fear of thermo-nuclear war at sometimes acute. In popular culture, the subject was a popular with authors and film-makers, the best known including the book On the Beach (1957) by Neville Shute (1899-1960) and the memorable film Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964), based on the novel Red Alert (1958) by Peter George (1924–1966).  The US government made many preparations for such an event, notably building vast underground facilities where essential personnel (members of the administration, the Congress, their families and servants) could live until it was safe for them to emerge into the post-apocalypse world and stake claim to whatever habitable real-estate remained.  The taxpayers who paid for these facilities were of course rather less protected but the government in 1952 did install warning sirens in cities; people might still be vaporized by comrade Stalin's (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) H-Bombs but they would know what was coming so there was that.

US war-room film set for Stanley Kubrick's (1928-1999) film version of Dr Strangelove.  Upon becoming president in 1981, Ronald Reagan (1911-2004, POTUS 1981-1989) was reported as being disappointed nothing quite so dramatic actually existed, the White House's “Situation Room” something like what would be used by an insurance company to conduct sales training seminars.  The story is thought likely apocryphal but there is documentary evidence Mr Reagan did sometimes confuse historic fact with what he's seen in movies.

The early version of the warning siren was co-developed by Chrysler and Bell Labs and named CBVS (Chrysler Bell Victory Siren) which, given the consequences of nuclear war, seems at least optimistic.  Technically, although the acoustic properties met the specification, the drawback was the devices manually were activated and controlled, requiring someone physically to be on-location to start the thing and, being directional, rotate it so the sound would be broadcast 360^o.  The obvious flaw in that was, were  there to be a nuclear attack in the area, the job-description, at least potentially, was self-sacrificial, something comrade Stalin doubtless would have thought just the part of the cost of war with the unfortunate patriotic soul posthumously to be awarded the coveted Герой Советского Союза (Hero of the Soviet Union) decoration.  However, neither the White House or the Pentagon liked the optics and revised specifications for the sirens were issued.

Photograph by Rob Storms of Chrysler Air Raid Siren atop Rochester Fire Department Maintenance Building, Rochester, Monroe County, New York.

Chrysler's engineers responded with a more elaborate device, automated and remotely administrated; because it was developed wholly in-house, the corporate-themed acronym CARS (Chrysler Air Raid Siren) was coined.  Introduced in 1952, the new design was powered by Chrysler’s new, 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) Hemi-head V8, rated at what was then a stellar 180 HP (134 kW), a three-stage compressor added to increase output.  Instead of demanding a doomed operator, there was a control panel connected (with nothing more than the two-pair copper cables that became familiar as Cat3 “phone-wire”) to dedicated phone lines so it could be activated either by local civil defense authorities or the military.  The big V8 provided sufficient power to both increase the dB and the geographical coverage, the siren able to be heard over an area of some 15.8 square miles (41 km²), an impressive number given the electric sirens used today for tornado and tsunami warnings have an effective footprint of only some 3.9 square miles (10 km²).

Chrysler Air Raid Siren being delivered on the back of a Dodge flatbed truck, 1953.

In 1952, there was no engine better suited to the task than Chrysler’s new “FirePower” Hemi V8.  Applying their wartime experience building a number of high-output, multi-cylinder engines (the most remarkable a V16 aero-engine rendered obsolete by jet technology before it could be used), the FirePower featured hemispherical combustion chambers and was the corporation’s first use of OHV (overhead valves) in passenger vehicle engines.  Both OHV and hemispherical combustion chambers had been around for decades but, before long, Chrysler would make a (trade-marked) fetish of “Hemi”, continuing cheerfully to use the name for a range of V8s introduced in 2003 even though they no longer used a true hemi-head, the design unable to be adapted to meet modern exhaust emission laws.  The so-called “third generation” Hemi remains available still although how long it will last will be a matter of the interplay of politics and demand.  Doubtless, it’s on Greta Thunberg’s (b 2003) long (and expanding) hit-list and that she and the engine arrived on planet Earth in the same year won't much impress her.

Chrysler FirePower 392 cubic inch (6.4 litre) V8 in 1957 Chrysler 300C Convertible.  In the jargon, the pair of four barrel carburetors were dubbed  “dual quads”.

First sold in 1950, the FirePower appeared first as a 331, growing over the decade to 354 (5.8) and then 392 (6.4) before being retired in 1959, the wedge-headed alternative with increased displacement a cheaper path to power (the hemi heads needing special machining and the valve-train was heavy and labor-intensive to assemble).  Chrysler and Imperial shared the engines but remarkably, in an approach that would today shock accountants and efficiency experts, the companion divisions (De Soto & Dodge) produced nine different hemi-head V8s with capacities between 241 (4.0) and 345 (5.6) with relatively little commonality of components between them all.  The last of the FirePowers were noted also for being one of the first engines offered with electronic fuel injection (built with analogue components) but while that offered real advantages over the mechanical systems then available in a handful of models in Europe and the US, the technology was then too fragile to be reliable and most of the 16 sold (reputedly all but one) were recalled and retro-fitted with a pair of faithful four barrel carburetors.  In 1964, the hemi-head was revived for a racing engine and, to satisfy the regulatory body that had been unimpressed with the use of such a thing in a series for “stock” cars, it was made available to the public between 1966-1971, this time called “Street Hemi”.  In 426 cubic inch (7.0 litre) form, it gained a reputation Chrysler would exploit for decades after production ended.

Some 350 CARS were built, all by the Chrysler's M&I (Marine & Industrial Engine Division, based in Trenton, Michigan) with some maintained in service as late as the 1970s.  During the era of détente, the last were retired, some sold to museums or collectors while other were just abandoned because, mounted atop tall buildings to maximize their acoustic coverage, the cost of removal far exceeded their value as units to be re-purposed or scraped.  At least three fully functional CARS still exist, one in a remote part of Texas where it’s safe to stage the occasional demonstration of the sound.  During these displays, the clear zone (minimum safe distance) extends outwards 320 feet (97.5 metres) but even at this range, anyone standing directly in front of the projection horns would find the experience uncomfortable, prolonged exposure risking some damage to the eardrums.  Although directional, there’s much “sound soak” in the device's proximity so just operating the siren from the side control panel requires hearing protection (acoustic earmuffs rated at a minimum 30 dB).

CARS at the Don Garlits Museum of Drag Racing, re-awakened after decades, 1997.

One collector attracted to them was Don Garlits (b 1932) who, in the post-war years, was among the most innovative and successful drivers and builders in the then wildly popular sport of drag-racing and it was with highly-modified Chrysler Hemis (the HP (horsepower) of which would come to be generated in thousands) he built his reputation.  In 1997, a documentary crew from the UK visited Garlits and saw one of the old CARS sitting neglected in the storeroom where it’d sat for decades after having spent some 20 years in salt-laden air atop a Florida high-rise.  Remarkably, after doing little more than connecting a battery and checking the oil and coolant, once a carburetor had been bolted on with a can of gas (petrol) rigged up, it started almost immediately, a reasonable achievement given it had never before run on gasoline because the CARS always used propane.  As Garlits over the decades had discovered a ¼ mile (402 metres) at a time, the FirePower Hemi was a tough old thing.

The Siren Suit

Weldon pattern for siren suit, 1940.  Home-made clothes used to be common and wartime conditions made the practice spike.  The production and distribution of patterns was a significant industry, enduring, at a smaller scale, to this day.

Unrelated to the seductive Sirens of mythology, the “siren suit” was a World War II (1939-1945) era coining describing a garment “ideal to wear when there was a risk of an air-raid siren sounding”.  The design wasn’t new; they would have been familiar to previous generations as the “overalls” mechanics and such wore to protect their clothing from oil and dirt, the novelty being the application.  Because “the Blitz” (the bombing campaign against London and other English cities waged by the Luftwaffe (the German Air Force) in 1940-1941) was conducted at night, that meant air-raid sirens were most likely to sound when people were in bed and the attraction of the “overall-like” siren suit was it could be worn over nightwear (pyjamas, nighties and such), meaning that upon being wakened by the siren, time would not be wasted getting dressed before rushing off to seek shelter; all one need to put on was one’s shoes.  With wool, silk & cotton supplies being diverted to military production, recycled blends using the more available rayon came increasingly to be used and the versatility of the synthetic made it popular; available in a variety of weights, unlike fabrics made from natural fibres, it was not subject to creasing or shrinkage.  In 1940, the most commonly requested feature was a “hood” and these came to be included on many, often with a lining for additional warmth.  Stylistically and conceptually, the siren suit can thus be imagined as a “proto-onesie”, one of the twenty-first century’s more controversial garments, not so much for what is it (warm, comfortable, convenient) but for where some choose to frequent while wearing one (Walmart, fast food outlets and such).

Wartime individualism, circa 1941: Despite wartime privations, fashion sense didn’t die and ways were found to individualize even the most starkly functional items.

As this publicity shot indicates, gas-masks were in the UK of 1940 a piece of compulsory kit for civilians, the use of poison gas expected by many in politics and the military.  Ironically, of all the leaders in the era, it was only Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) who was enthusiastic about the use of gas as a weapon, thinking it ideal to deploy on beaches in the event of an amphibious assault by the Wehrmacht (the German military (1935-1945)).  Even Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) explicitly ruled out the use of poison gas, despite the Germans also holding large stocks.  Although in 1918 Hitler had learned of Germany’s capitulation when in hospital recovering from the temporary blindness suffered after being gassed, his unwillingness to use gas was not a humanitarian gesture but because the unpredictability of the wind (in Europe the “westerly” (ie from west to east) the prevailing type) made use too risky.

As a unisexual style, by 1940, the siren suit wouldn’t have been too shocking a challenge to the fashion police.  Although the tradition is longer still, in the West, women routinely (if not universally) had been wearing “trousers” since the mid-nineteenth century (for sport, work & leisure, the light and convenient “pyjama-suit” welcomed by many) and, during World War I (1914-1918), as in increasing numbers they entered the industrial workforce to replace men conscripted for military service, the sheer functionality of trousers was compelling (and often, for safety reasons, compulsory); women in overalls became commonplace.  Given the purpose, the early siren suits (the less pleasing “blitz suit” never catching on) were designed with little in mind except comfort, warmth and speed in donning so most were fastened with a zip though the photographic record confirms buttons or snap-fittings were also used, mass-production made immediately possible because they could be sewed on the same lines used to make overalls.  Winston Churchill often was photographed in his siren suit and while that promoted use, it also confirmed the style was not “slimming”.  Even more than overalls, siren suits seem to have featured generously-sized pockets, a thoughtful addition permitting those disturbed from their slumber quickly to stash valuables and the essentials needed for a few hours in an air-raid shelter while retaining the recommended “hands-free” status.  Coincidentally, the siren suit fitted in with the wartime “fashion zeitgeist” the rationing of fabrics and other materials imposing on clothing simplicity and a reduction in bulk.  Even after that economic imperative had faded, that simplicity would remain influential in the post-war years, most obviously in the minimalist movement, effects achieved with severe cuts rather than fussy embellishments.

Winston Churchill (left) in siren suit with comrade Stalin (right), the Kremlin, Moscow, August 1942.

The prime minister had earlier worn the same Siren suit on a visit to the White House to meet Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, POTUS 1933-1945) and it was much admired, the FLOTUS (Eleanor Roosevelt (1884–1962; FLOTUS 1933-1945) even saying she’d like to have one made for her husband, if “…the wool shortage” would allow it.  Decades later, during his visit to Washington DC, Volodymyr Zelenskyy (b 1978, President of Ukraine since 2019) found his similar sartorial choice not as well-received.  According to Churchill, even before the war he’d been inspired by the “coveralls” worn by coal miners to commission the London tailors Turnbull & Asser to create a bespoke one for him, finding it just the thing to wear when enjoying his hobby of painting.  Upon the country being threatened by bombing, he ordered several, his specifications recorded in the company’s archives: “Generously cut, with two breast pockets, a zip fastening, roomy side pockets, a belt and pleats to the front of the trousers.”  To suit their client’s whims, Turnbull & Asser made them in various fabrics including the same pinstripe as some of his suits, a durable serge twill and one in a velvet of striking emerald green, still on display in their London store.  There’s nothing to suggest he ever worn one made from utilitarian rayon.

Synesthesia

Synesthesia (pronounced sin-uhs-thee-zhuh or sin-uhs-zhee-uh)

(1) In neurology and psychology, a neurological or psychological phenomenon in which a particular sensory stimulus triggers a second kind of sensation.

(2) The association of one sensory perception with, or description of it in terms of, another, unlike, perception that is not experienced at the same time.

(3) In literary theory or practice, an artistic device whereby one kind of sensation is described in the terms of another.

(4) In medical diagnostics, where a sensation felt in one part of the body as a result of stimulus that is applied to another, as in referred pain.

1892: From the Modern French or the New Latin, from Ancient Greek σύν (sún (with) or syn (together) + αἴσθησις (aísthēsis), (sensation; feeling) from the primitive Indo-European root au (to perceive) + abstract noun suffix -ia.  The word was modelled after existing construction anaesthesia.  Traditional spelling in the British Empire was synæsthesia but the US form synesthesia appears now global.  The meaning in psychology relating to the senses (colors that seem to the perceiver to having odor, etc.) is from 1891.  Synesthesia & synaesthete are nouns, synaesthetic is an adjective and synesthetically is an adverb; the noun plural is synesthesias.  

Clinicians have two categories of synesthesia: projective and associative.  Those who project see actual colours or shapes when stimulated whereas associators will feel an involuntary connection between the stimulus and the sense that it triggers.  For example, in the form chromesthesia synesthesia (sound to color) a projector would listen to a piano and see a purple shape whereas an associator might respond to the music by thinking it “sounds” purple.  There are a number of types of synesthesia, the best known of which grapheme-color synesthesia or the association of colours with letters or words.  In auditory-tactile synesthesia, certain sounds can induce sensations in parts of the body and debate continues about whether the near-universal reaction(s) induced by finger nails on a blackboard indicates synesthesia is a spectrum condition or this example is endemic in human physiology.  Lexical-gustatory synesthesia is the phenomenon of certain tastes being experienced upon hearing certain words.  Mirror-touch synesthesia is where someone feels the same sensation another person feels such as when a synesthete sees another touched on the arm; the synesthete involuntarily feeling a touch in the same place.

Logically, every possible combination of experiences which can occur can be a type of synesthesia.  Like a syndrome, something need not be wide-spread to be a type of synesthesia, it needs just to be specific: someone with the grapheme-color variant might see "Lindsay Lohan" as Lindsay Lohan.  Simultanéisme was a short-lived, early twentieth century movement in French poetry.  The writers aimed to achieve a kind of “simultaneousness of image and sound”, to represent or reproduce human sounds mingled with other sounds (ranging from birds & land mammals to those heard in cityscapes including the then novel automobile).  An attempt to form complex and dynamic onomatopoeiae, types of synaesthesia and kinaesthetic images, the finest surviving examples are in La Trilogie des forces (The Trilogy of Forces, 1908-1914) by the movement's founder Henri-Martin Barzun (1881–1973) and Naissance du poème (Birth of the poem, 1918) by Fernand Divoire (1883-1951).

For many reasons, as a literary device, synaesthesia in the twentieth century became much analysed and discussed with the critics even managing to build theories although it was not at all novel, innumerable writers of prose, poetry and non-fiction for millennia having synaesthetic references in their texts.  It’s a familiar feature of everyday speech, mentions such as “a heavy silence” or a “black look” being commonplace and there are no pedantic literalists who complain when a music critic writes of the “darkening voice” of the aging soprano.  So it’s a mixing of sensations, the concurrent appeal to more than one sense; the response through several senses to the stimulation of one and while as an intellectual exercise than can be made complex, in everyday life it’s just the way people think.

In the medical literature the French term synesthésie had appeared at least as early as 1864 but that was of bodily reflexes and co-sensations rather than the neurological condition and the first use in English in the modern sense is thought to appear in a translation of Jules Millet’s (1965-1982) doctoral thesis Audition colorée (Colored hearing) in which he differentiated synesthésie (for all kinds of combined senses) from those specifically associated with links between colors and sounds.  At the time, scientists and physicians in the English-speaking world were still using the borrowed French term pseudochromesthésie, a long word with a brief history.  In 1848, French physician Charles-Auguste-Édouard Cornaz (1825-1911) was the first to give a name to what would come to be known as synesthesia, calling it hyperchromatopsie (perception de trop de couleurs) (hyperchromatopsia (perception of too many colors)), the rationale for that being Dr Cornaz regarding the condition as the opposite of the well-documented chromatodysopsie (chromatodysopsia (color blindness); the term was the precursor to what would become hyperesthesia.  Dr Cordaz's coining fell into disuse after biographically otherwise obscure French physician Ernest Chabalier in 1864 published a paper using the term pseudochromesthésie (or pseudochromesthesia) (false colour-sensation) which enjoyed general adoption before being supplanted by synesthesia.

However, although the scientific study may have been embryonic, the idea was not and three lines from Charles Baudelaire’s (1821-1867) sonnet Correspondances (Fleurs du mal (Flowers of Evil, 1857)) are illustrative of what was a common technique from the factory floor to the academy:

Les parfums, les couleurs et les sons se répondent.

II est des parfums frais comme des chairs d'enfants,

Doux comme les hautbois, verts comme les prairies,

Those translating Baudelaire into English did take a few interpretative liberties with his work but the synaesthetic imagery (mostly) was preserved:

The scents and colours to each other respond.

And scents there are, like infant's flesh as chaste,

As sweet as oboes, and as meadows fair,

Cyril Scott (1879-1970), Baudelaire: The Flowers of Evil (1909)

Colour and sound and perfume speak to him.

Some perfumes are as fragrant as a child,

Sweet as the sound of hautboys, meadow-green;

F.P. Sturm (1879-1942), from Baudelaire: His Prose and Poetry, edited by Thomas Robert Smith (1880-1942) (1919)

sound calls to fragrance, colour calls to sound.

cool as an infant's brow some perfumes are,

softer than oboes, green as rainy leas;

Lewis Piaget Shanks (1879-1935), Flowers of Evil (1931)

Perfumes there are as sweet as the music of pipes and strings,

As pure as the naked flesh of children, as full of peace

As wide green prairies

George Dillon (1906-1968), Flowers of Evil (1936)

So are commingled perfumes, sounds, and hues.

There can be perfumes cool as children's flesh,

Like fiddIes, sweet, like meadows greenly fresh.

Roy Campbell (1901-1957), Poems of Baudelaire (1952)

Perfumes, sounds, and colors correspond.

There are perfumes as cool as the flesh of children,

Sweet as oboes, green as meadows

William Aggeler (1904-1974), The Flowers of Evil (1954)

Perfumes and sounds and colors correspond.

Some scents are cool as children's flesh is cool,

Sweet as are oboes, green as meadowlands,

Jacques LeClercq (1891-1971), Flowers of Evil (1958)

Perfumes, colors and sounds answer one another.

There are perfumes as cool as the flesh of children,

Sweet as oboes, green as prairies

Wallace Fowlie (1908-1998), Flowers of Evil (1964)

So perfumes, colors, tones answer each other.

There are perfumes fresh as children's flesh,

Soft as oboes, green as meadows,

Geoffrey Wagner (1927-2006), Selected Poems of Charles Baudelaire (1974)

So perfumes, colours, sounds may correspond.

Odours there are, fresh as a baby's skin,

Mellow as oboes, green as meadow grass,

James McGowan (1938-2014), Flowers of Evil (1993)

Perfumes, colours and sounds respond.

Odours fresh as the skin of an infant,

Sweet as oboes and green as a meadow,

Beverley Bie Brahic, Invitation to the Voyage (2021)

Wassily Kandinsky, color, shape and music

Winter Landscape (1909), oil on cardboard by Wassily Kandinsky.

In Russian painter and art theorist Wassily Kandinsky’s (1866–1944) particular synesthesia, color and music inextricably were tangled and so precise was it that he associated each note with an exact hue and it was so intrinsic to his being that he once observed: “…the sound of colors is so definite that it would be hard to find anyone who would express bright yellow with bass notes or dark lake with treble.”  It meant his experience of music was heightened, indeed defined, by the range of visual perceptions which shifted with every note.  The music of Richard Wagner (1813–1883) has had its consequences, good and bad, and it was his vivid visual response to a performance of Richard Wagner's (1813–1883) Lohengrin (1850) at Moscow’s Bolshoi Theatre that he abandoned his successful career as a lawyer and devoted himself to the painting which had been his hobby.  Accepted as a student at Munich’s Academy of Fine Arts, he later described the Wagnerian transformation of his life: “I saw all my colors in spirit, before my eyes. Wild, almost crazy lines were sketched in front of me.”  Wagner has led astray a few troubled souls but he guided Kandinsky along a good path; the world can gain much from having more artists but probably has enough lawyers.

Composition VII (1913), oil on canvas by by Wassily Kandinsky.

Whether Kandinsky would have become an artist had he not been a synaesthete can't be known but music certainly drew him to become a certain sort of painter.  His path artistic path he explained by saying: "A painter, who finds no satisfaction in mere representation, however artistic, in his longing to express his inner life, cannot but envy the ease with which music, the most non-material of the arts today, achieves this end. He naturally seeks to apply the methods of music to his own art."  Music he called "the ultimate teacher" and it critical to the development of especially his abstract works; noting the way the Viennese composer Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951) had abandoned tonal and harmonic conventions in his compositions, he rejected the figure or recognizable object in favor of shapes, lines, and discordant colors which he deployed overlaid on texture to create a rhythmic visual experience which as closely as possible emulated in a two-dimensional space the emotional response he’d experienced when hearing the sounds.  Unsurprisingly, Kandinsky gave many of his paintings musical titles, such as Composition or Improvisation and it wasn’t unusual for critics to use phrases like “Kandinsky’s symphony of colors”.  Kandinsky also perceived color also had the ability to touch the feelings of the viewers, yellow able to disturb while blue awakened the highest spiritual aspirations.  That may have been mapping his experience as a synaesthete on to those not able to enjoy the gift but it was certainly an insight into his visions.  In 1911, Kandinsky published Über das Geistige in der Kunst (Concerning the Spiritual in Art) in which he defined the three types of painting: impressions, improvisations and compositions.  Impressions were based on an external reality while improvisations and compositions depicted images summoned from the unconscious, compositions the more formal of the two.  The treatise is one of the landmarks in the theoretical foundations of abstraction and remains an important contribution to an explanation of the techniques with which art can be constructed in an attempt to evoke psychological, physical, and emotional responses.

Improvisation 35 (1914), oil on canvas by Wassily Kandinsky.

As well as the works in which he explored the implications of his synesthesia, Kandinsky painted in other styles including Post-Impressionism, Expressionism, Abstraction, Landscape, Cityscape, Genre, Marina and Allegory.  Although he did paint people in recognizable form (including self-portraits), had Kandinsky painted Lindsay Lohan he’d likely not have been drawn to depicting her in a realistic likeness, attracted instead by the colors he’d have associated with the metaphorical “sound” of her once tempestuous lifestyle and the actual sounds of the music she created.  Quite what might have been colors and shapes of the involuntary visual experience he’d have enjoyed while hearing of her adventures or listening to her tunes is of course speculative but in his 1911 treatise he did map out a quite strict vocabulary linking specific colors to musical instruments and emotional states.  From that would emerge a constellation of colored planes and rhythmic lines, a Lohanic portrait best assessed as a musical composition, visual elements corresponding with timbre, pitch and rhythm.

Black Lines I (1913), oil on canvas by Wassily Kandinsky.

From his visual lexicon, it’s possible to imagine how a visual symphony of Lindsay Lohan might have appeared, her distinctive red hair drawn not as naturalistic strands but, because of the his association of vermilion with the sound of a trumpet, (someting cross-cultural, Dr Johnson (Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)) once describing the color scarlet to a blind man as “the clangour of a trumpet”) there’d likely have been intense, sharp, angular geometric structures or aggressive, flaming slashes of red slicing across the canvas.  Thematically, it would be a “loud” work, suggestive of something sudden and explosive but there would also be “quieter” elements, Kandinsky associating a light, powder blue with the sound of a flute and ultramarine or cobalt with that of a cello or the deeper tones of an organ.  There might have been interlocking concentric circles and smooth, floating curves of blue weaving through the sharp red angles, the “cool” blue tones not balancing but clashing with the “hot” reds, representing both the rhythmic layers of her music and the more melancholy undercurrent of a life lived under the microscope of the tabloid press.  Superficially incoherent because of fragmented geometric shapes and intersecting diagonals, the tension between colors would have created an emotional dissonance, visual “chords” at once seductive and unstable.

Violet (1923), colour lithograph by Wassily Kandinsky.

It’s likely Kandinsky would have been unable to resist so obvious an artistic possibility as Lindsay Lohan’s famous freckles, representing as they do in music a staccato percussion.  On canvas, this would have been translated into a scatter plot of sharp dots peppered not in a defined pattern but randomly, as naturally as they appear on skin.  Kandinsky thought dots (in the sense of “representations of points”) as the ultimate minimalist entity implying a sudden, sharp beat or a silent pause; either way, there would be a spray of rhythmic, percussive dots jumping across the canvas, one’s interpretation of that an element in deconstructing the whole.  While his techniques were multi-layered, he did claim in one aspect there was simplicity because: "Everything starts from a dot."  Shapes being signifiers of an inherent spiritual weight, there would have been triangles because he imagined them as possessing aggressive, forward-moving energy; they would appear with circles representing the soul and peace.  The darkness in her life would have been conveyed by chaotic, clashing black lines and there would also be yellow, a color the artist described as “frenzied” and capable of “violently bothering" the viewer.  All this would typically be “played out” by interactions on the “charged, expectant silence” of a solid, white background.  A viewer would perhaps not recognize even a hint of a human presence and the work would be understood only if the title made explicit Lindsay Lohan was the subject.  Even then, some notes from the artist would be helpful because, while a set of emotional and musical impulses orchestrated in color would be a familiar language to other color-music synaesthetes, the level of abstraction would for others make it mysterious and probably weird beyond immediate understanding.

Flute

Flute (pronounced floot)

(1) A woodwind instrument consisting of a tube with a row of finger-holes (or keys) which produce sound through vibrations caused by air blown across the edge of the holes, often tuned by plugging one or more holes with a finger; the Western concert flute, a transverse side-blown flute of European origin (in colloquial use, a recorder, also a woodwind instrument).

(2) An organ stop with wide flue pipes, having a flutelike tone.

(3) In architecture or engineering (particularly the manufacture of firearms), a semi-cylindrical vertical channel, groove or furrow, as on the shaft of a column, in a pillar, in plaited cloth, or in a rifle barrel to cut down the weight.

(4) Any groove or furrow, as in a ruffle of cloth or on a piecrust.

(5) One of the helical grooves of a twist drill.

(6) A slender, footed wineglass with a tall, conical bowl.

(7) A similar stemmed glass, used especially for champagne and often styled as "champagne flute".

(8) In steel fabrication, to kink or break in bending.

(9) In various fields of design, to form longitudinal flutes or furrows.

(10) A long bread roll of French origin; a baguette.

(11) In weaving, tapestry etc, a shuttle.

(12) To play on a flute; to make or utter a flutelike sound. 

(13) To form flutes or channels in (as in a column, a ruffle etc); to cut a semi-cylindrical vertical groove in (as in a pillar etc).

1350-1400; From the Middle English floute, floute & flote, from the Middle French flaüte, flahute & fleüte, from the twelfth century Old French flaute (musical), from the Old Provençal flaüt (thought an alteration of flaujol or flauja) of uncertain origin but may be either (1) a blend of the Provencal flaut or  flaujol (flageolet) + laut (lute) or (2) from the Classical Latin flātus (blowing), from flāre (to blow) although there is support among etymologists for the notion of it being a doublet of flauta & fluyt.  In other languages, the variations include the Irish fliúit and the Welsh ffliwt.  The form in Vulgar Latin has been cited as flabeolum but evidence is scant and all forms are thought imitative of the Classical Latin flāre and other Germanic words (eg flöte) are borrowings from French. 

Portrait of Archduchess Maria Antonia of Austria (later Queen Marie Antoinette of France (1774-1792)), circa 1768, oil on canvas by Martin van Meytens  (1695–1770).

Fluted & fluting both date from the 1610s while the verb (in the sense of "to play upon a flute") seems to have been in use as early as the late fourteenth century.  The use to describe grooves in metalwork emerged in the 1570s and was applied to the tall, slender wine glass almost a century later although the term "champagne flute" didn't enter popular use until the 1950s.  The champagne flute is preferred by many to the coupé (or saucer) even though it lacks the (since unfortunately debunked) legend the shape of the latter was modelled on Marie Antoinette’s (1754-1793) left breast (historians gleefully recounting the tale all agree it definitely was the left).  Elegant though it is, the advantages of the flute are entirely functional, the design providing for less spillage than a coupé, something which comes to be more valued as lunch progresses to the third uncorking and the slender, tapered shape is claimed better to preserve the integrity of the bubbles, the smaller surface area and thus reduced oxygen-to-wine ratio longer maintaining aroma and taste.

Grand Cru's guide to the shape of champagne glasses.

Among musical instruments, there are a dozen or more distinct types of flute.  Early French flutes differed greatly from modern instruments in having a separate mouthpiece and were called flûte-a-bec (literally "flute with a beak").  The ancient devices were played directly, blown straight through a mouthpiece but held away from the player's mouth, the modern transverse (or "German") flute not appearing until the eighteenth century and the familiar modern design and key system of the concert flute were perfected 1834 by Bavarian court musician & virtuoso flautist Theobald Boehm (1794–1881), the fingering system known to this day as "Boehm system".  The architectural sense of "furrow in a pillar" dates from the mid-seventeenth century and was derived from the vague resemblance to the inside of a flute split down the middle.

Solidarity: Gay men supporting lesbians at the first “Dyke March”, Washington DC, April 1993.  The sign held by the protester at the far left uses the compound word for which the euphemism “playing the skin flute” was coined.

One imaginative linguistic re-purposing was the use in the 1940s (apparently first in the US) of “playing the skin flute” to mean “to perform fellatio” and while still in that sense used in certain LGBTQQIAAOP circles, in general use the meaning has shifted, no describing “a male engaged in the act of masturbation”.  Use shifted to fruit, either by virtue of use at the time being almost exclusively oral rather than written (linguistically, that’s classified as an example of an imperfect echoic) or because "fruit" was then in use as a gay slur.   The nouns flute-player, fluter & flutist can be used of flute players but the preferred term is flautist.  Presumably, someone employed to add flutes to an object could be designated “the fluter” but it’s doubtful such as specialist job-description has ever been written.  Flute is a noun & verb, flutiness, flautist, flutist & fluter are nouns, fluted is a verb & adjective, fluting is a noun, verb & adjective, flutelike is an adjective; the noun plural is flutes.

Fluted grill on 1973 S1 (Series 1) Daimler Double-Six Vanden Plas (the companion six-cylinder version was the Daimler Sovereign, the pair both "badged-engineered" versions respectively of the Jaguar XJ12 & XJ6.

In British use, one who plays the flute is a flautist (pronounced flaw-tist (U) or flou-tist (non-U)), from the Italian flautista, the construct being flauto (flute) +‎ -ista.  The -ist suffix was from the Middle English -ist & -iste, from the Old French -iste and the Latin -ista, from the Ancient Greek -ιστής (-istḗs), from -ίζω (-ízō) (the -ize & -ise verbal suffix) and -τής (-tḗs) (the agent-noun suffix).  It was added to nouns to denote various senses of association such as (1) a person who studies or practices a particular discipline, (2), one who uses a device of some kind, (3) one who engages in a particular type of activity, (4) one who suffers from a specific condition or syndrome, (5) one who subscribes to a particular theological doctrine or religious denomination, (6) one who has a certain ideology or set of beliefs, (7) one who owns or manages something and (8), a person who holds very particular views (often applied to those thought most offensive).  The alternative forms are the unimaginative (though descriptive) flute-player and the clumsy pair fluter although the odd historian or music critic will use aulete, from the Ancient Greek αὐλητής (aulētḗs), from αὐλέω (auléō) (I play the flute), from αὐλός (aulós) (flute).  The spelling flutist is preferred in the US and it's actually an old form, dating from circa 1600 and probably from the French flûtiste and it replaced the early thirteenth century Middle English flouter (from the Old French flauteor).

Daimler, the flutes and US trademark law

1972 Daimler Double-Six Vanden Plas.  The "Double-Six" name was a revival of that used by Daimler between 1926-1938 for a number of V12 models.

Carrosserie Van den Plas began operations during the last days of the "horse & buggy" era, starting out in Brussels as a Flemish coach-building house, specializing in horse-drawn carriages, large and small.  Branches were later established in France and the UK and by early in the new century, the company's focus had switched wholly to designing and fashioning the bodies for high end automobiles, most at that end of the market supplied to customers as a "rolling chassis" (ie driveable with an engine and transmission but no body or interior) to be sent to a coachbuilder of choice for completion.  Financially troubled as were many such operations, the company in 1923 became bankrupt but, under new ownership,  entered a period of relative stability.  Although there was never any sort of "exclusivity clause", during the first decade of the inter-war era (1919-1939) Vanden Plas (the factory in 1923 established in Kingsbury, London), became especially associated with the big machines (Ettore Bugatti (1881–1947) quipped the racing versions were the "world's fastest lorries") produced by engineer W. O. Bentley (1888–1971), over 700 of his chassis receiving the bodies.  After the distressed Bentley concern was in 1931 absorbed by Rolls-Royce, the designs were adapted to suit a range of chassis including those from Alvis, Armstrong Siddeley, Bentley (Derby), Daimler, Lagonda, Rolls-Royce and Talbot.  The French branch continued until 1934 and the original Belgian operation until 1949 while the British was in 1946 acquired by Austin, specifically to produce the A120 Princess (a descendent of which, remarkably didn't end end production until 1968 when (complete with a split windscreen!), alongside the then new XJ6, it was so obviously a relic).  Still, with modern methods of unit-body construction taking over the industry, the scope for supplying customers with bodies for the diminishing number of rolling chassis was narrowing and ownership by Austin afforded Vanden Plas a long stay of execution, the name surviving as around the continent, many illustrious names from the coach-building tradition vanished.

Austin's ownership also ushered in a new business model for the company: Taking models in volume production and adding luxury appointments (leather, burl walnut veneer, cut-pile carpet, picnic tables and such) to the interior and somtimes modifying external panels, especially by integrating a traditional, upright radiator grill.  That proved lucrative with the Vanden Plas variants attracting a premium and there was even a small but consistent volume if sales to the Dominions of the British Commonwealth, a commercial legacy of the old Empire.  Through M&A (mergers and acquisitions) activities, by the late 1960s Vanden Plas was British Leyland’s in-house coach-builder and adding still more luxurious appointments to the anyway lavishly trimmed Daimler Double-Six one of the long running projects.  Vanden Plas completed only 351 of the S1 (Series 1, 1972-1973) Double-Sixes (346 in RHD (right-hand-drive)), the later S2 (1973-1979) & S3 (1979-1992) cars much more numerous and, as a consequence of the first oil shock (1973) that was the central economic dynamic of the decade, the S2 & S3 were available with the 4.2 litre (258 cubic inch) XK-six as well as the heroically thirsty 5.3 litre (326 cubic inch) V12.  The flutes atop the grill dated from the early twentieth-century and were originally a functional addition to the radiator to enhance the metal's heat-dissipation qualities but later became a merely decorative embellishment.  British Leyland and its successor companies would continue to use the Vanden Plas name for some of the more highly-specified Daimlers but applied it also to Jaguars because in some markets the trademark to the Daimler name came to be held by Daimler-Benz AG (since 2022 Mercedes-Benz Group AG), a legacy from the earliest days of motor-car manufacturing and despite the English middle class often pronouncing the name as van-dem-plarr, it should said as van-dem-plass.  It's an error with the same origin as that suffered by Moët & Chandon: to English speaking ears, mow-eh sounds "more French" than mow-et.  The non-US rights to the Vanden Plas brand have passed to a Chinese corporation and no vehicle using the name has been sold since 2009. 

1976 Daimler Double-Six Vanden Plas two door.

The rarest Double-Six Vanden Plas was a genuine one-off, a two door built reputedly using one of the early prototypes, a regular production version contemplated but cancelled after the first was built.  Jaguar would once have called such things a FHC (fixed head coupé) but labelled the XJ derivatives as "two door saloons" and always referred to them thus, presumably as a point of differentiation with the XJ-S (later XJS) coupé produced at the same time.  Despite the corporate linguistic nudge, everybody seems always to have called the two-door XJs: "coupés".  Why the project was cancelled isn't known but it was for the company a time of industrial and financial turmoil and distractions, however minor, may have been thought unwelcome.  Although fully-finished, apart from the VDP-specific trim, it includes also some detail mechanical differences from the regular production two-door Double-Six but both use the distinctive fluted finish on the grill and trunk (boot) lid trim; the car still exists.  The two-door XJs (1975-1978) rank with the earliest versions (1961-1967) of the E-Type (XKE; 1961-1974) as the finest styling Jaguar ever achieved and were it not for the unfortunate vinyl roof visually, it would be as close to perfect as any machine ever made.

1975 Jaguar XJC: The design perfected.  Even Jaguar's usually uncompromising originality police seem to approve.

The orthodoxy is the gluing-on of the vinyl was a necessity imposed by the inability of the paint of the era to cope with the slight flexing of the roof.  As a two-door hardtop, there was no B-pillar so the expanse of un-supported metal was larger than that of the sedans and thus more subject to higher stress-loads, resulting in the paint being subject to crazing.  Modern chemistry means suitable paints have long been available and many owners have taken the opportunity to fix the design's one visual flaw.  However, not all accept the “flexing roof” theory and claim the vinyl was a deliberate aesthetic choice, noting the 1972 Double-Six Vanden Plas (that appeared in 1972, three years before the two-door XJ went on sale) was fitted as standard with a vinyl roof, despite obviously there been no paint-related imperative.  Possibly it may have been a way of reducing interior noise but some argue it appeared just because the covering was then undeniably fashionable.  The inexcusable lapse in taste had been seen (then using leather) as early as the 1920s but it was in the US in the mid-1960s the motif hit the mass-market to attract those who wanted “a convertible’s rakish vibe” but needed something more practical; things soon got out of hand, the trend spreading to the UK and Australia.  For up-market models, the Australians even emulated the US practice of the “padded vinyl roof” which was a bad idea made worse the closer one got to the tropics, the foam in the “vinyl-metal sandwich” trapping moisture and leading quickly to rust.  The Europeans proved commendably resistant and by the 1980s the moment had passed in the UK and Australia but the Americans doubled-down and, until the mid-1990s, Detroit’s designers devoted much energy to styling elaborate variations on the theme, the marketing department doing its usual bit by labelling them with fanciful names.  The implications of "roof flexing" in cars without a B-pillar is also a source of dispute among collectors of the memorable fourth generation Lincoln Continental (1961-1969), the matter discussed the decision not to include a four-door hardtop in the range after a dozen-odd prototypes using the body-style had been built.  There are two competing theories, argued respectively by the "flex faction" & "window mechanism faction". 

Using one of his trademark outdoor settings, Norman Parkinson (1913-1990) photographed model Suzanne Kinnear (b 1935) adorning a Daimler SP250, wearing a Kashmoor coat and Otto Lucas beret with jewels by Cartier.  The image was published on the cover of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959.

Although Daimlers had, in small numbers, been imported into US for decades, after Jaguar purchased the company in 1960, there was renewed interest and the first model used to test the market was the small, fibreglass-bodied roadster, probably the most improbable Daimler ever and one destined to fail, doomed by (1) the quirky styling and (2) the lack of product development.  It was a shame because what made it truly unique was the hemi-head 2.6 litre (155 cubic inch) V8 which was one of the best engines of the era and remembered still for the intoxicating exhaust note.  The "micro-V8" and the companion 4.5 liter (278 cubic inch) version were two of the best engines produced in the 1960s and their under-utilization was one of many mistakes made by the UK's industry in the post war years although the blame is shared (substantially) by successive governments.  The smaller V8 would have been transformative if used by a number of Triumphs & MGs while the larger unit would have made Jaguars & Daimlers competitive in the lucrative US market in a way the XK-six never could.

The SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the small sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the pleasingly alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast.  Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the daunting Dodge would never be confused with the diminutive Daimler but the lawyers insisted.  Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became "SP250" which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys and for the US corporation things could have been worse.  Dodge had submitted their Dart proposal to Chrysler for approval and while the car found favor, the name did not and the marketing department was told to conduct research and come up with something the public would like.  From this the marketing types gleaned “Dodge Zipp” would be popular and to be fair, dart and zip(p) do imply much the same thing but ultimately the original was preferred and Darts remained in Dodge’s line-up until 1976, for most of that time one of the corporation's best-selling and most profitable lines.  Internationally it was also a success, produced in Brazil until 1981 and although the Australians retired the body shape in 1971, there Chrysler Australia would use the platform for a further decade.  In the US, the name was revived between 2012-2016 for a dreary, unsuccessful and unlamented small sedan.

Leaper, growler and flutes on US market 1999 Jaguar Vanden Plas (X308).  The retractable, solid-timber picnic tables in the back of the front seats were much admired.

Decades later, US trademark law would again intrude, this time on Jaguar’s low-volume business of selling Daimlers in the US.  There, the company had, after 1967, ceased offering Daimlers because, it being clear the trickle of safety & exhaust emission regulations was soon to become a flood, with capital scarce, it was decided resources needed to be devoted to compliance and one form of economy was to re-allocate the funds absorbed by maintaining Daimler as a separate brand, most of which were spent on advertising.  In Stuttgart, the Daimler-Benz lawyers took note and decided to reclaim the name, eventually managing to secure registration of the trademark and Daimlers have not since been available in the US.  However, there was still clearly demand for an up-market Jaguar and so the Sovereign name (used on Daimlers between 1966-1983) was applied to Jaguar XJ sedans which, although mechanically unchanged, were equipped with more elaborate appointments.

Lindsay Lohan with stainless steel Rolex Datejust (Roman numeral dial) with fluted white gold bezel.  Note the blue eyes; it's not known if the effect was achieved with colored contact lens or digital editing.

Sales of the up-market Sovereign were good and the profit margins fatter so the US market also received some even more luxurious Vanden Plas models and during the XJ’s X308 model run (1997-2003), the VDP cars were fitted with the fluted grill and trunk-lid trim as an additional means of product differentiation; it would be the last appearance of the flutes in North America and the only occasion on which the leaper and growler were used in conjunction with them.  Although some might dismiss the interior fittings of the Vanden Plas models as “bling”, there were nice touches.  The ones based on the X308 featured the fold-down picnic-tables once so beloved by English coach-builders (the affection in the 1960s trickling down to the middle-class as they began to appear on blinged-up mass-market vehicles) but, rather than the usual burl walnut veneer, the pieces were of solid timber.  The factory seems never to have discussed the rationale but it may be it was cheaper to do it that way, the veneering process being labor-intensive.

Pim Fortuyn in his chauffeur-driven Daimler Super V8, February 2002 (left), paramedics attending to him at the scene of his assassination (centre) a few paces from the Daimler, 6 May, 2002 (he died at the scene) and the car when on sale, Amsterdam, June 2018 (right).  His assassin, memorably, was described in press reports “deranged vegetarian”; perhaps it was the sight of meneer Fortuyn sprawled across those Connolly Leather hides that was triggering.

Jaguar became aware the allure of the flutes was real when it discovered a small but profitable industry had emerged in the wake of the company ceasing to use the Daimler name in European markets (by the 1990s, it was only in the UK, Japan, Australia & New Zealand they could be bought off the showroom floor).  Entrepreneurial types, armed with nothing more than a list of Jaguar part-numbers, had created kits containing the fluted trim pieces and Daimler-specific badges, these shipped to dealers or private buyers on the continent so Jaguar XJs could become “Daimlers”.  Being factory-supplied parts of no mechanical significance, their use did not affect warranties or insurance rates (though owners were required to inform registration authorities the badgework had changed) so, unlike many after-market modifications, administratively, it was a hassle-free process.  Jaguar took note of this uptick in the Daimler-demand curve and decided to meet it with supply, re-introducing the marque to Europe.  Because the company was, in effect, doing only what was being done by those buying the kits, it proved one of the industry's cheapest and quickest brand resurrections, Germany and the Netherlands especially receptive.  One notable owner of a real LWB (long wheelbase) Daimler Super V8 (X308) was the Dutch academic and politician Pim Fortuyn (1948-2002), assassinated by a left-wing environmentalist and animal rights activist during the 2002 national election campaign.