The history of the National Zoo glockenspiel

The glock that sperm built.

I almost forgot to write tonight’s newsletter! A pair of pals made me french onion soup alongside our belated Christmas gift exchange, and I got home later than planned. Thus, here I am, 11:20 on a Sunday night, writing to you about the glockenspiel at the National Zoo. Did you know that America’s zoo features a broken glockenspiel? And your tax dollars didn’t even pay for it! It’s a memorial broken glockenspiel.

According to this cheeky Smithsonian Archives article on problematic gifts throughout the institution’s history, Dr. Ivy A. Pelzman left $100,000 to the zoo when he died in 1970. This money was quite specifically and seriously designated to be spent on a glockenspiel, a multi-story mechanical clock featuring chimes and figures, in memory of his wife, Katherine. Pelzman was a pioneer of sperm donation and artificial insemination, which makes the mechanically malfunctioning tower feel especially phallic and poetic.

The glockenspiel, which features 38 bells and a ring-around-the-rosie of zoo animals (elephant, bear, giraffe, lion, to be precise), was dedicated on May 16, 1976. The steam engine that brought the ‘spiel to life, chiming the bells and animating the animals, malfunctioned from the very start. The clock tower was difficult and expensive to repair—so expensive that the zoo stopped funding repair work after just a few years. In a devastating blow to glockenspiels everywhere, the Pelzman Memorial was moved from the front entrance of the zoo to the back.

I stumbled upon the clock while on a walk with my friend Maggie. Despite its impotency, we were enchanted with the glockenspiel’s whimsey and specificity. I hope you are, too.

Until next week,

Elizabeth