Dom Casual & Bella Hagen speak out

We were delighted to be interviewed on KRON’s Sunday Morning Program by Henry Tannenbaum. The interview was the same day as our final day of shooting the movie’s opening and closing scene: Dom & Bella’s LA years. It was all very kismet. But enough talk!

Just watch by pressing PLAY.

THAT’S US ON THE FRONT PAGE!

Click [here] to view the article and picture, or open the PDF version below.

SFgate20040914.pdf

1997: The Artists First Interview

This duo have been each other muse for a good many years, but it is only recently that this intimate, artistic support-group have grown beyond their subtle tacit singularities; Following near identical orbits around the body of California’s performance arts circuit; Disturbing Middle-America’s mental myopia with highly individual acts of auricular adversity. Since ‘95 the sum became greater than the parts; The melding of man/woman, yin/yang became complete and “Come Fly With Me Nude” was released upon a totally unsuspecting public. Continuing they’re unrelenting assault on the people of the world, they have now announced the imminent release of a new textual corroboree which promises to surpass all other literary works of recent times. So, who are these entities that have been likened to a tsunami of Byronian Ferlinghettis? How did they find each other, let alone themselves, amidst the detritus of pop USA?

Discussion:
INTERVIEWER: What catalyst caused this big-bang?
BELLA: Its genesis was almost eerie. I was returning home from my Rolfing for Creative Personalities class, when I was struck by the beauty of the flowers outside a small florist. I was inspired to indulge myself, and couldn’t decide between the Phlox Drummondi and the Delphinium Consoldia. Now mind you, this struggle to choose was purely internal, I’d not vocalized my conflict, when this soothing voice behind me said “the Delphinium Consoldia.” I turned to see Dom standing there, nodding gently, assuredly. Of course I recognized him right away; who hasn’t seen his performance piece “I Miss Me”, and I knew he was right–about the flowers. But more important, he answered my questions, heard my thoughts, and completed my purchase. It was fate.

I: You were both held up as untouchable divas of the performance art world, what did you stand to gain by becoming a single amalgam?

DOM: Neither gain nor loss was ever considered. We simply did what we had to do. What we were chosen to do.
B: Actually, we have an affordable health plan available to us now. And we got a decent tax break.

I: What is your response to those people who would have your work banned and labeled as the worst form of gutter literature?
D: First, we ask that they read it.

I: So, you deny that much of what you write is purely for shock value?
B: I’ve never heard that before. We have been accused of writing purely for schlock value. Simply, we speak the truth. I suppose the truth is shocking to some.

I: Then you’re not just, “riding the wave of controversy,” and, “exploiting sensationalism,” as the London Times reviewer states?

B: That’s rather amusing. The New York Times said we were sensationalizing exploitation.

I: Is there any truth in the rumor that the PBS channel asked to produce a biographical documentary on you both and that you felt this to be a plot to trivialize your art?
D: I don’t see how you could possibly trivialize it.

I: CFWMN seemed to pull on the apron strings of the past thirty years or so of US Pop culture. Does this make you the Bradys of poetry?
D: My approach to writing more like that of Keith Partridge, and Bella is my erstwhile sister Laurie. More than a keyboardist: part Tracy, always ready with a tambourine.

I: The piece entitled “Come Fly With Me Nude, Santa” appears to be some sick sexual fantasy about a jolly, old, fat man. Surly there are greater depths here to be plumbed.
B: No, we simply wanted to write a lighthearted, festive childrens poem for the holidays.

D: We thought the children needed a voice. We wanted to crystallize how they really felt about Christmas.

I: So, the “Santa” here is more of a prototypical representation of the Satanic nature of Western materialism …
D: Ask the children. Simply ask the children.

I: If you had to capture the essence of your work as a single image, what picture would you paint, who would be the artist and what materials would be used to craft the image?
D: Play Doh…SpiroGraph…Etch-a-Sketch…Lite Brite; Bella and I illuminate each other in the mixed-media of our youth. I’m real big on Spam carvings because they’re edible.

I:…. Interesting … and why did you choose these materials?
B: Clearly we live in the past.

I: Well, I’m not entirely sure that what you’re saying makes sense in the Newtonian universe that we inhabit ….
D: Obviously I’ve reaped nepotism’s fruit. Living in uncle Wayne’s shadow was both a blessing and curse. But to credit a whole universe to him, even at his egotistical best I don’t think he’d go that far.

I: …. So you trying to reach that other plain ….
D: You’re not listening, cocksucker.

I:Earlier you mentioned “cocks”, would this be an adroit reference to farm animals and how the human sexual act is animalistic?
D: No, clearly it’s the human penis. Whoops! Can I say penis?

I:I see … please go on …

B: I see the animal sex act as very humanistic.

I:That’s rather offensive …. don’t you think?
B: Have you ever seen two farm animals - nude farm animals - make love? It’s very…

I: You lost me there …. can we back up a bit … to what you were saying about the male organ?
D: No more, I was finished. Now it is you who fixates.

I:Me fixating! You’re the ones who write this stuff.
D: Hey, you’re asking the questions.

I:Okay … let’s move on to your new book …
B: It’s a sequel, “Come Swim With Me Nude.” It’s filled with anecdotes, poems, and short stories, all of hope and inspiration. To us.

I:… yes … I’ve heard this described as mainstream. How do respond to that and the assertion that you’re selling out?
B: Selling out implies that people are buying our books, which is a fascinating thought. As for mainstream, I think we’re finally reaching our understanders - and there are many of them - who’ve been waiting for a voice.

I:Have either of you heard about the Internet and do you find it useful in your art?
D: We’re vehemently against it, since we can no longer communicate with the children in our favorite chat rooms. It seems the POLICE [Parents Opposing Lewd Internet Chatroom Exhibitionists] don’t want us to reach them [their children]. And that’s a shame.

I:Now that you’ve worked poems and short stories, where do you intend going next? is there a novel or play on the horizon?

D: We’re working on a picture deal with Disney. It’s in the very, very early stages. I don’t want to give away too much, but the working title is “Have You Seen My Hymen?”. It’s based on Lewis Carroll’s lesser known masterpiece “Alice in Hymenland.”

I:And beyond that … What does the future hold?
B: We’re not terribly future-oriented. Although it’s been suggested that we retain a good attorney. But we’re optimistic; a bumpy legal road would only give us fuel for the fire, fodder for fiction.
D: I’m going to EuroDisney!
B: Amen!

Read more by St. John Smythe here: www.stjohnsmythe.com

Dear Bella,

Can you hear the snaps of kudos for your triumphant return that I send over the undulating waves of the cold, cold sea that for nigh upon a year has separated my muse and me!!! That deafening cacaphony of Poseidon’s unholy symphony will no longer block the voice of my muse. Soon we will be romping together in North Beach and cutting many a caper. Well, after the burnt offerings ceremony to the Nine Muses it might be best to stay away from Washington Square for awhile.

I learned enough about computers to turn this world on end!!! Folks are worried about Y2K!???!! Wait until they see the havoc that DB2K will unleash on an artistically and mentally raped populace!!!

When they try to visit their favorite web site up will pop a copy of my
dance piece “TAPPING ON HELEN KELLER’S DOOR!!!

When they go to withdraw cash from an ATM out will pop a copy of our now classic poem PUSSY POWER!!!

When they try to listen to their Walkmans all they will hear is your rendition of REQUIIUM FOR A YOUNG ELEANOR ROOSEVELT!!! I am still moved to tears when I recall your touching performance at the Monterey Jazz Festival. What did those fools down there know about music anyway???

I am giddy with anticipation and cannot keep from touching myself
inappropriately in public. I know my muse is coming home. We open up our Golden Gate like a prostitute opening her legs after a guy has paid her to… OK, OK so I am a little rusty. Hurry home!!! Hurry home!!!!

Love Dom

P.S. Paolo says hi. I let him crash on my couch. Is that OK?

Dear Dom:

I have much to tell of my time incarcerated.

I believe the original members of Meummenschanse all met in prison, but don’t quote me on that. The reason that I mention it is because I tried to rally up the gals and form a performance troupe. I was not met with much enthusiasm. They were much more content to watch reruns of “Friends”. As a gift to them, I put on a performance of my most accessible show “Leiderhosen Summer”. And they had no choice but to watch, as I’d cut the electrical cord off the television set. I’d hoped that for the first time in many of their lives, they would experience ART. Instead, I was surprised to experience my first prison riot.

For all my artistic efforts, I was given the gift of Solitary Confinement, which was especially enlightening. I likened the cell to a large sensory deprivation tank, and made wonderful use of the time there. I was able to visit faraway places, see the faces of loved ones lost. But most important Dom, I went to Me.

Upon emerging from Solitary, I learned that they have dropped all charges and are expediting my deportation to the United States. It seems the warden fears for my safety so much that he won’t even let me perform my signature sign-off, “CIAO, COCO, CIAO”.

I also learned that Paolo had been released weeks and weeks earlier, as they couldn’t make the charges stick. I hope to never see him again. I now know never to follow anyone else’s dream, no matter how well they sweeten the deal. From this day forth, I listen to my heart, and I listen to my muse. You.

I so look forward to collaborating with you again. But first, I think a night of fog and chianti is in order. Dust off my bongos, baby, I’m comin’ home!

Love, love, love,
American Bella

Bella,

I too am in prison. This corporate workaday world is prison!! I don’t think I am cut out for this dot com computer crap. I am always being harassed by Warden Stan. I was put in charge of all of the copy for the website. I am just completely uninspired. Warden Stan has had my eight cups of coffee reduced to two and now he says I am no longer allowed to chant or stretch before my writing as it freaks out my co-workers. Boy oh boy do I know the hell you’re going through.

You know what? I have decided right now to bust us both out, baby. I am going to turn in my Saturn so I can get you some money to get you off that goddamn convict island. I am afraid that once one has answered the calling to be an Artist one can never look back.So I say farewell to Socks_R_us and hello again to berets, bongos, and best yet…Bella!

Forgive me for changing my name to Kevin and for ever setting foot in a Starbucks! Forgive me for being jealous and angry and forgetting to feed your cat. Forgive me for all of the wrongs I have done thee. In repentance I will rush to North Beach where I will hold vigil in Washington Square. I will burn offerings to the nine muses, dance in torn sheets in the rain and sing the body electric. Hurry back to me, do!!!
Do I enthuse, Muse???

Ecstatically yours,

DOM AGAIN!!!

DOM!

I hope this reaches you swiftly, and that the warden doesn’t find my words so dangerous that he edits this letter until it is rendered meaningless. They will be taking me to my assigned cell any moment now, so I must write quickly, oh so very quickly, so quickly in fact that I best limit my use of adverbs from here on in.

Here’s one for the record: opium dens are definitely not legal in Australia. I assure you I didn’t go ther for the drugs. Paolo gave me an address and told me that someone there named Stellar would return to me my passport. The only thing awaiting me was a muscular, tanned policeman yielding a pair of handcuffs. HE SET ME UP! PAOLO SET ME UP!

I hope you never know the horrors of imprisonment! I am amongst murderers and thieves and liars! Even I lack the imagination to find inspiration in this situation. No “Good Morning!”s. Only: Fall in line! Obey the rules! Lights out! Bend over bitch!” I’m so very, very, very very, very,very……..

Dom please help! I need your words now more than ever. I’ve given your details to my solicitor (isn’t that so much more melodic than “lawyer”), and she’ll be contacting you soon.

Imprisoned Body
Tortured Spirit,

(#003487)
Bella

Dear Bella,

What an insensitive boob I have been. I have to apologize from the bottom of my heart for being so darn nasty to you in my last letter. Please forgive me! And now all of your troubles? None of this would have happened to you if you wouldn’t have had your head in the clouds, your brush in the paint and your pen in your pad. Rushing around with foreigners at the drop of a hat gets you up to your arms in NO GOOD! But I have the answer! You wouldn’t believe the turn my life has taken.

I lost the grant from the CHUBB group but another delightful door has opened. Remember Stan Hawthorne from Sunnyvale? I mentioned interviewing him for Muse replacement? Well, as it turns out I agreed to have dinner with him and his lovely wife Helen at a place called TGIF. It stands for Thank God It’s Friday, a phrase that I was unaware of until I started working 9 to 5. We 9 to 5ers really TGIF on F!!! That’s right! I am now working at his new dot com company in the exciting field of computers!

They really had some good points about leaving the boho artist’s life behind.
Where is the money in poetry?
Where is the job security?
Where are the career advances?
We have all that, and more, at Socks_R _Us.com!!!

Of course my computer skills are nil so I am taking classes at night and working the weekends at Starbucks to help pay for my new Saturn (you need a car down in Sunnyvale) I love my fellow “team members” at Starbucks. Really neat people. I don’t miss my writing at all. I just listen to the whirr of the capuccino machine as the milk frothes up into an undulating miasma of creamy goodness for humanity to suck down in pop culture gulps as they slip further into a ubiquitous abyss of self-loathing… Oh my… I guess it isn’t that simple letting go of the past.

Well, I’m off to the gym. Now think about all that I have said and I will talk to Stan about getting you on here at the sock shop. That’s what the kooksters here call it, your gonna love ‘em!

Your pal,
Kevin Cartwright
The former Dom

Precious Dom,

If to devastate me is what you wanted, then devastate me is what you did.
Never have I seen so much anger and hatred from you aimed at anyone, especially me! Your friend, your fan, your champion, your muse. The mispelling, the profanity, and the metaphor inspired by a Hungarian has-been? Please tell me you’ve given up on that insane plan of yours of finding a new muse.

Don’t you see, you can’t just shoo me.
You can’t shoo your muse for you don’t choose a muse
Your muse chooses you and a muse can too shoo
A muse don’t refuse or a muse you could lose.
Despite all your anger, despite this bad ruse
you’ll be rendered museless if you don’t heed this news.

You were right you were right, you were right. You and I belong together. And we will be, just as soon as I get my passport back…

Oh Dom, my life is in shambles: LA FEMME GODZILLA dead in the water, my love affair with Paolo fini. He is in jail, all his assets frozen and belongings confiscated. Except of course my passport, which remains in his safe deposit box. He won’t tell me where the key is, for fear I’ll “Skim the loot and skip town”, threatening to “take me out if I sing”. Dom, why didn’t I see what a common criminal he was? I could live with him being a criminal… Already thoughts of a life on the lam fill my mind with dark, murky, lurid poetry… It’s the “common” part I find revolting. Il m’ennuie.

I promise, I’ll be home just as soon as I am able, and once again we shall create art, the likes of which will change the course of history. Please wait for me! Please don’t be angry! But if you must be, please channel it artistically.

La Vie En Ruines,

Bella

Miss Bella,
My SOON TO BE FORMER MUSE,

Your rejection speaks volumes to me. How you can toss out COME FLY WITH ME NUDE for your silly lizard film is beyond me!!! I sent you on your outback adventure with full blessings but it was all a big lie. I WAS jealous of you! I WAS jealous of your work/live space. I WAS jealous of your clogging, tulip-headed boy toy and your Vagina Salon and your slippy sloppy slappy and your hours and hours of painting, creating, and writing!!! You didn’t need me any more but I NEEDED YOU!!!

When CHUBB said “Where is this Bella Hagen? No Bella, No Grant” That was the straw that squashed the goddamn camel!! Where were you! WHERE WERE YOU!!!!

IN FUCKING AUSTRALIA!!! That’s where you were you little piece of shit! Well, Miss “I have to leave Dom high and fucking dry grantless museless la la lee lee lu lu “ YOU WILL NOT RUIN THIS FOR ME!!!

I have put out an ad in the SF WEEKLY for a new muse and the offers are pouring in. Chastity Bono wants to work with me. This I find tittilating and repulsive at the same time. As these are the feelings I long for again it is odd that I must reject her but I cannot be eclipsed by such star power. (I can reject too you know!) I also have interviewed a man named Sponge with only one eye and one testicle (or so he claims, I’m sure I don’t know) and a delightful computer programmer from Sunnyvale named Stan Hawthorne. So I don’t need you, Bella baby!

What do you care anyway you ungrateful cow??? Since you didn’t support me with a full and blousy heart I know that our meeting was a great big slap in the face from the Zsa Zsa Gabor of Poetry.

As I wallow in it here, may you wallow in it there!
Eradicatadely yours,
DOM