THE NAKED CITY – with Miss Death, Jay Katz and Coffin Ed

THE NAKED CITY – with Miss Death, Jay Katz and Coffin Ed

DOGGIE STYLE AT THE OPERA HOUSE! 

It was the highlight of the $8 million Vivid Festival and despite the fact that we aren’t canine owners we wouldn’t have missed it for kibbles. Laurie Anderson’s Concert for Dogs on the Opera House steps was such an audacious concept that even the weather (it had been raining dogs and dogs all week) payed homage with a burst of most welcome sunshine.

With a few well directed phone calls we were able to round up our own posse of designer dogs and funky mutts. After all turning up dogless to such an event would have been a bit like wearing a snuggie to a nudist convention. By the time we actually reached the Opera House steps we had managed to hustle a pair of aging Pekinese, a scruffy looking Labradoodle, a greyhound who had never run a place in twenty starts at the Dapto dogs and “Chomsky” the pit bull – the former mascot of a now disbanded outlaw motorcycle gang.

Needless to say there was a “pet-thora” of other groovy dogs and the opportunity to parade your pooch at such a cultural barkathon had not been lost on the more gregarious of Sydneysiders. Even the recently resurgent Malcolm Turnbull was in attendance, straining hounds at the leash, and looking every inch the political dogfighter of old.

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking but we were all hoping Tony Abbott would emerge from the Man Of Wars Steps, competing in yet another stupid triathalon and clad only in his trademark Speedos. Turnbull would have almost certainly unleashed the hounds of hell and  no doubt Chomsky would have revealed his newborn taste for nylon.

Musically I have to admit that the canine audience seem less than impressed with the on-stage cacophony and I suggest the only real yelps of delight were manufactured by Lou Reed hiding backstage with one of those high pitched dog whistles. We were at least expecting a medley of songs such as Walking The Dog, Hound Dog and Who Let The Dogs Out but were sadly disappointed as the music veered very much to the bone jarring experimental.

Nevertheless, armed with multiple pooper scoopers and a copy of How To Break Up A Dog Fight Without Getting Hurt Yourself we settled in for an afternoon of discordant sounds and smelly dog farts. Unfortunately the euphoria was short lived and when an increasingly irritated Chomsky threatened to tear the head off a really poncey poodle we knew it was time to leave.

Wow – we can hardly wait until next year’s Vivid and see just what the curators come up with when it comes to entertaining our pets. A concert for cats, a concert for rats, a concert for guinea pigs and ferrets or even a concert for pet rocks (aka a rock concert). As long as it’s not a concert for iPads, we’ll be there!

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