MAGIC, TRICK-WORK, AND ILLUSION IN THE VAMPIRE PLAYS

by THOMAS LEONARD COLWIN, B.A., M.A.

A DISSERTATION IN FINE ARTS

Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of Texas Tech University in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Approved

Accepted

Dean^f the Graduate School

August, 1987 30I

c 1987 Thomas Leonard Colwln ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am indebted to Professor Forrest Newlin for his direction of this dissertation and to the other members of my committee. Professors Kenneth Ketner, Richard Weaver, Michael Gerlach and Michael Stoune for their helpful criticisms. I also wish to acknowledge the invaluable assistance and support of my friend, Esther Lichti. Finally, I wish to express my deep gratitude to my wife, Jane, for her tireless support, helpful criticism, and unending hard work in the preparation of this study.

11 CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ii CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION: MAGIC IN THE THEATRE 1 II. THEATRICAL ILLUSION 10 III. MAGICAL ILLUSION 24 IV. ILLUSION VERSUS ILLUSION 35 V. TRICK-WORK IN THE VAMPIRE PLAYS 44 VI. CONCLUSION: MAGIC FOR THE THEATRE 87 ENDNOTES 92 BIBLIOGRAPHY 102 APPENDIX 110

111 CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION: MAGIC IN THE THEATRE

Magic has always held a place in the world of the theatre. Within the whole of dramatic literature there exists a body of plays which all contain elements of the magical, the mystical, the supernatural. Some of these plays have only overtones of the paranormal, but a great many more call for seemingly magical or supernatural events to be realized on the stage. As far back as the fifth century, B.C., the Greeks used devices like the mechane, or crane, to give the illusion of Perseus on his flying horse or of various gods descending from the heavens. Medieval miracle plays often called for the employment of "secrets," or what today are called special effects. Theatre historian Oscar Brockett mentions flying effects with concealed windlasses, miraculous appearances using trap doors, and various transformations as just some of the examples of special effects in pre-Renaissance dramas. The intermezzi of the Renaissance theatre continued the tradition of the Middle Ages on an even grander scale. Transformations, ghosts rising from the earth, and flying chariots were but a few of the illusions created. Some of Shakespeare's plays abound with things magical. The premise of his story of Macbeth is almost entirely supernatural in nature, what with the witches, the three apparitions, and the like. The world of Hamlet is haunted by his father's ghost, a specter which appears from, and vanishes into, thin air. The nineteenth century theatre was replete with so- called "spectre dramas" and other plays founded upon a supernatural theme. There were all sorts of ghostly goings-on: apparitions rising from the earth while simultaneously moving laterally across the stage; duels with ethereal beings which remained untouched by the direct thrust of a sword; miraculous appearances of visions in the air; and instantaneous disappearances of vampires whose demise was imminent. In the twentieth century various plays have required that Peter Pan and Wendy fly, that the devil bring to life a mirror image of a scarecrow, or that the ghost of a man's dead wife wreak havoc in his living room. The list could go on and on. Such a review of drama throughout the ages reveals a rather formidable body of work in which the actual staging of supposedly magical effects is necessary.

"Trick-Work" and Magic In 1939 Richard Southern authored an article entitled 2 "Trick-Work in the English Nineteenth Century Theatre." In it he discussed various mechanical contrivances used on the stage to create illusions of transformations, appearances, vanishes, and the like. "Trick-work" was the special effects of the day, and in many instances the effects employed the same mechanical principles as those used by magicians. In his study of pre-twentieth century stage magic, Charles Joseph Pecor hints that some sort of relationship exists between theatrical trick-work and magic effects. He notes that eighteenth century pantomimes and nineteenth century melodramas both "frequently made use of special 3 magical type effects ... in their staging." In the same vein, he asserts that "it is reasonable to assume that magicians began to make use of stage traps when such 4 facilities were available in the theatres." Remarks such as those make one thing clear: regardless of whether the connections are more direct or indirect, intentional or unintentional, for all practical purposes trick-work and magic effects are one and the same. Indeed, a connection between trick-work and conjuring effects has existed for as long as playwrights have penned dramas which incorporate the magical. In plays of this type the actors, directors, and technicians have always had to shoulder a special obligation together. Beyond their responsibilities to be co-creators of a theatrical illusion, each has been required--within his specialized realm--to share in the work of creating magical illusions.

The Arts of Illusion Both theatre and magic have long been called the arts of illusion. Each field endeavors to create for its audience a kind of artificial reality. Theatre asks its audience to believe in the realness of beings who only exist by virtue of their impersonation by actors. Yet if the production is a good one, the theatre audience is eager to show its approval of the illusion created. Likewise, the spectators at a magic show will heartily endorse illusions of the impossible-made-possible if the performance has been an effective one. Here are two entertainments in which the performers, in effect, lie to their audiences, and those audiences actually show their appreciation for such actions. Why? Why would presumably sane persons willingly allow falsehoods to be perpetrated upon them?

Objectives of the Study The first objective of this study is to answer that question by examining the nature of illusion in the theatre and in magic. If the processes in these two fields can be illuminated clearly enough, then the question above can be answered. However, this will serve only as a springboard to take the investigation further in the direction of its ultimate goal. The second reason for this inquiry is to explore the performance theories and techniques of both theatre and magic to discover how closely they are related. A comparison of this kind will demonstrate the following: (1) that both arts rely upon the same or similar principles of performance to achieve their respective brands of illusion, and (2) that in plays which require magical effects, a proper balance between drama and magic is critical to the success of the overall theatrical illusion. This step will, in turn, set the stage for the third and principal focus of this study. That focus will be on the mechanical principles utilized by magicians and theatre technicians. Surely there is much that the technician and the conjuror could borrow from each other which would strengthen the effects each is called upon to devise. One area exists, however, in which the magician has the upper hand. The field of legerdemain has for its use a carefully developed, highly analytical, problem-solving system of magical invention. The advantage of this system is that it offers the user the opportunity to invent the most deceptive method of accomplishing an effect. No comparable system is known to exist in the world of theatrical trick-work. The ultimate goal of the present study is to demonstrate to the theatre technician that much could be gained by adapting magic's systematic approach to his own trick-work problem-solving. Any theatre worker who chooses to do so may well find that his inventions totally astound the spectators by using truly deceptive solutions in every given instance. If that were to be the case, he would have accomplished his assignment in the most successful way possible. He would be able to rest assured that his contributions would work in every way to help create a successful magical illusion.

The Vampire Plays A group of plays has been selected as a means of testing this claim. Hereafter, they will be referred to as "the vampire plays," indicating plays which appeared on the New York and London stages in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, each of which has a vampire, such as Dracula, as its main character. In his bibliography of vampire literature, Martin Riccardo lists nearly thirty- 5 five such works, and research has uncovered the titles of still more. From the total, six plays initially were selected for their apparent noteworthiness and because sufficient materials were available to examine them in some depth. Later the list was reduced to four plays. The first to be eliminated was Boucicault's The Phantom. Only a single version was discovered--a copy of an original promptscript, hand-dated 1857 --and it revealed a disheartening fact: despite the reviews and criticisms which led this writer to believe that much in the way of trick-work might be found in that publicly acclaimed play, the sad truth is that it contains none whatsoever. It is replete with thunder and lightning but completely lacking with respect to actual trick-work. The other production which was originally to be used in this study is the 1977 version of Hamilton Deane's Dracula. The play was accorded much notice and some acclaim. However, upon further investigation it became clear that 1977's Dracula was notable chiefly for its innovative set design by illustrator Edward Gorey and "some extraordinary lighting" by Roger Morgan. Since the 1927 version of Deane's play is to be used in this study, the decision was made to eliminate the 1977 Dracula. The objective here is to use the vampire plays to illustrate the application of magic methodology to theatrical trick-work. Hence, in the interest of providing as many varied examples of this as possible within a reasonable space, four plays will be used. They will afford the study sufficient scope while avoiding redundancy as much as possible. The first of the plays to be used is The Vampire; or. The Bride of the Isles, written in 1820 by James Robinson Planche. Two things make this play particularly noteworthy: first, although it is an adaptation of Charles Nodier's Le Vampire, it is the first known play in English with the vampire theme; second, and of much more importance to this study. The Vampire is the production Q for which "the celebrated vampire trap was invented." The play is not abundant in trick-work, but its use of the vampire trap will be discussed at some length. Such a discussion is worthwhile from a historical point of view, as well as being most germane to the goal of this study. As mentioned earlier, Hamilton Deane's play, Dracula, "Americanized" with the help of John Balderston and first produced in New York in 1927, will also receive attention. g Considered "an indifferent play" by Montague Summers and various critics, it nevertheless captured the imagination of the New York public. Significant, perhaps, as the first authorized dramatization of Bram Stoker's 1897 novel of the same name, Deane's play provides considerable material which can be used to discuss trick-work and magic effects. Two other plays. Count Dracula by Ted Tiller, and The Passion of Dracula by Bob Hall and David Richmond, will be reviewed in the study as well. In many ways. The Vampire and Dracula already suffice as models for this investigation. Therefore, the discussion of Count Dracula and The Passion of Dracula will be used only to supply supplementary information to fill in gaps which exist. Besides doing that, inclusion of the latter two plays should give a sense of the continuum of dramatic works about vampires that have been written during the past one hundred and fifty-plus years, as well as the kinds of effects and mechanics that have been used in that span of time.

Other Resources In addition to the materials which will be used to elucidate the vampire plays themselves, two other categories of references will be relied upon: theatrical performance theory books and conjuring books. Many of the former, unfortunately, were found to be essentially redundant works in certain respects. From a multitude of works, about a dozen were selected for use since they seemed the most helpful. Of particular value in clarifying a theory of theatrical illusion were The Theatrical Response by Kenneth M. Cameron and Theodore J.C. Hoffman, The Art of Play Production by John Dolman, Jr., and Richard K. Knaub, and The Theory of Drama by Allardyce Nicoll. These three works proved especially illuminating for the matter at hand, and they will be quoted somewhat at length in the following pages. Texts on magic were another matter. Magic is, of necessity, a fairly secretive art. Of the thousands of works that have been written, only a relative few are available to the general public in libraries or 8 bookstores. But even when the researcher avails himself of the holdings in private collections and magic shops, he discovers a rather disturbing fact: only a handful of conjuring books deal in depth with magic performance theory, and even fewer exist which discuss an analytical approach to magical invention. On both counts fortune prevailed for the writer of the present study. Our Magic by Nevil Maskelyne and David Devant, Magic and Showmanship by Henning Nelms, and especially The Trick Brain by Dariel Fitzkee, have been invaluable. These three books are bursting with ideas about conjuring theory and mechanics, and they will serve as major resources here. Only four dissertations have been found which deal with a relationship between theatre and magic. Susan McCosker's "Representative Performances of Stage Magic, 1650-1900" is a historical study outlining so-called magic shows on the theatre stage. "Elizabethan Scenes of Violence and the Problem of Their Staging," by Lee Mitchell, provides some interesting food for thought, but its thrust is not the same as this study's. Charles Joseph Pecor's "The Magician on the American Stage, 1752- 1874," mentioned earlier, actually set the thesis of the present work in motion with its suggestion that there is a link between magical and theatrical methods. However, Pecor only suggests the idea, and he does so within the context of a dissertation which is principally a history. Finally, Robert Schneideman's "Elizabethan Legerdemain and Its Employment in the Drama" 12 is a fascinating study of just what its title suggests. It comes the closest to approximating the work at hand, but it is limited to Elizabethan theatre and magic and does not go nearly as far in making the kinds of connections which are being attempted here. No dissertations or published works have been found which link magic and vampire plays. A single thesis on the vampire theme exists, but it is a kind of literary analysis. Many, many books and articles have been published on the general topic of vampirism, but they treat the theatre aspect cursorily at best and the conjuring theme not at all. The total of all resources found gives no reason to believe that the principal gist of this dissertation is anything but new. This study, therefore, will proceed to try to accomplish its objectives as straightforwardly as it can. The theories and techniques of theatrical illusion and conjuring illusion will be examined and compared in order to clarify their similarities and differences; Fitzkee's method for magical invention will be introduced and applied to the vampire play models; and the potential usefulness of this approach will make itself evident as the study proceeds. Before moving ahead, a note of caution should be sounded: as the success of magic relies on its secrets being kept, this study has tried to avoid exposing conjurors' secrets whenever possible. Of necessity, the methods of some magic must be revealed in this investigation, but anyone who desires to "learn all about magic" would do better to look elsewhere. The study will not provide any more exposure than is felt necessary to the objective at hand. Hopefully, any serious reader will be interested in the theory as presented here and will realize that in learning any of the theory for use in the legitimate theatre he has been welcomed into a fellowship of another kind. Having thus become a sort of guest in this fellowship, it is hoped that he will observe the ethics of conjuring and use this knowledge only in the best interests of both theatre and magic. CHAPTER II THEATRICAL ILLUSION

The nature of illusion in the theatre is an interesting phenomenon. The actor, pretending to be someone else, performs within a setting which, no matter how convincingly authentic-looking, can be seen by any rational observer as artificial. Similarly, that observer knows that the lighting effects are artificial, that the emotions displayed are mere pretense, that the special effects are simply tricks. Yet, given all that, it is a fact that an audience can become extremely engrossed in a production. There is no question that a skillfully planned, well-rehearsed play can have a profoundly moving effect upon an audience. How is that possible? How can an audience be so fully drawn into something that is pure artifice? The chief objective of this chapter is to try to answer these questions. The chapter will examine the viewpoints of various scholars and theorists with an eye toward identifying the nature of theatrical illusion. The goal here will be to establish some sort of basis on which magical illusion can be compared later. To further that goal this chapter will outline some of the special techniques which can be utilized to help create the theatrical illusion. When this has been accomplished, the study can proceed to an examination of magical illusion.

Modes of Response Theatre artists obviously have a need for an audience. They also have responsibilities to their

10 11 audiences, but those responsibilities can vary somewhat depending on the artists' goals. In a broad sense, their goal is to elicit a desired mode of response in the audience. Perhaps most artists seek to create a stirring illusion, but there are other kinds of possible responses. The Theatrical Response, by Kenneth M. Cameron and Theodore J.C. Hoffman, identifies three modes of audience response: delusion, reality, and illusion. 13 There is a close link between these modes of response and particular styles of production, and this link invites a closer look at this point. Delusion response. Delusion is defined as "the belief that whatever happens in a play is happening to real people who are not actors but human beings whom one observes." 14 Complete delusion, say Cameron and Hoffman, seems next to impossible. Is it? To experience delusion as a response, one must fully believe in the happenings on the stage. One must see the actors as living, breathing, human beings to whom the events of the play are actually happening. This spectator sees the scenery not as representing a given place, but as truly being that place, be it garden, sitting room—or Dracula's crypt, for that matter. For him the world on the stage is actual: truly real. It is difficult to imagine this delusion response being brought about by other than the following: 1) in­ sanity—or as one writer puts it, "Were the audience ... to accept the fiction as actuality, it would then have to be mad" ; (2) extreme ignorance or naivete, as in young children, for instance; or (3) by the wholly intentional actions of the artists. By definition delusion requires deception. Mordecai Gorelik spoke of theatre in just this manner. He described his approach in the following way: 12 The illusory method is one which attempts, fundamentally, to deceive the senses of the audience. It tries to convince the spectator that the stage events which he is witnessing are not really events on the stage having a sequence planned by stage workers, but that they are rather a series of natural or phenomenal events unrelated to the stage and viewed by spectators in the theatre as if by accident. Clearly, Gorelik believed that audiences can be manipulated into a state of total delusion where they be­ lieve that the people and occurrences on the stage are actual. Although he wrote those words in 1940, they seem, even for that time, anachronistic. In fact, his ideas seem to align themselves most closely with the view of a number of scenic artists of the nineteenth century. This group of artists sought complete naturalism, and they apparently felt that, rendered exactingly enough, their creations could actually mislead audiences into believing that the scenes were real. 17 It is a view which, today, has few (if any) subscribers. Indeed, it is difficult, if not impossible, to conceive of an audience in any era truly being deceived by any element of production to the point of actual delusion. Reality response. The reality response mode, as defined by Cameron and Hoffman, is a reaction which might be most easily induced in so-called "presentational" theatre. The dominant atmosphere—the prevailing artistic intention, so to speak—of a presentational production is one in which it is apparent to the audience that the artists want them to be conscious of the present reality of the performance. The extreme version of the "reality" mode of response is defined as follows: The sense that whatever is happening in the theatre is happening, both to performer--as performer, not character--and to the audience at the same time, and that what happens need have no specific points of contact with any other experience because it is sufficient in itself. 13 An undiluted "reality"-type response will be brought about in an audience which is fully conscious of the "event" nature of the performance. With this response the audience reacts with total awareness that the artistic intention is to experience the immediacy--the "here-and- nowness"--of the performance. Many less extreme degrees of this response can, of course, be sought by the artist. And there is no disagreement that a reality mode of response is achievable, given a certain type of play or performance. But the reality mode, by and large, must be reserved for plays other than those of the "vampire play" type. The vampire plays (along with the greater majority of all "mainstream," non-experimental plays) belong in a category which calls for a principally "illusion" mode of response. Illusion response. The illusion mode varies considerably from either the delusion mode or the reality mode. However, before proceeding it is at least academically important to sort through some definitions. The dictionary defines illusion as "the action of deceiving . . . [or] the state or fact of being intellectually deceived or misled." 19 Taken at face value this would immediately call into question Cameron and Hoffman's use of terminology, for the definition suggests that delusion and illusion are virtually synonymous. Therefore, in this instance it is vital to note the Latin root of the word illusion: illusio, which means "to mock." Among the definitions and synonyms of the word "mock" are imitate, mimic, and copy; and among the definitions for 20 those words is the idea of resembling. It is important to note the preceding discussion, for this distinction of definitions is essential to a continued examination of theatrical illusion and the illusion mode of response. 14 An audience which reacts in the illusion mode must bring to the theatre a "willing suspension of 21 disbelief." The illusion mode rests on two premises: (1) that the persons, events, and places on the stage are clearly and logically not actual; and (2) that the audience is fully aware of this pretense. In other words, the spectators know that what is occurring on stage is not actually real (indeed, it is make-believe), but they accept the characters and events as a "perfect rendering of recognizable experience . . . [depicted by] human beings [who] are both actors and characters." 22 This view of theatrical illusion is most certainly at odds with Mordecai Gorelik's. Clearly (despite using the term "illusory" to identify his view), Gorelik believed that an audience could be fully deceived. Clearly, he subscribed to the idea that spectators could be brought to a state of complete delusion by the artifice of the stage. To argue that any average theatre audience can be duped into actually accepting the fake is nonsense. Conversely, to argue for a mode of response in which an audience willingly accepts a kind of lie seems far more acceptable to the logical mind. The following presentation of viewpoints should lay to rest any qualms about an illusion mode of response. Hopefully, the nature of the theatrical illusion will be somewhat clarified as well.

Illusion Versus Delusion In The Art of Play Production, John Dolman, Jr., and Richard K. Knaub do exceptionally well in sorting out the concepts of illusion and delusion. In their book they state: The truth is that the word illusion is ambiguous. There are really two kinds of illusion. There is the 15

illusion of deception, and there is the illusion of art, and the difference between them is precisely that between the liar and the actor. The illusion of deception is inartistic and has no place in the theatre, but the illusion of art is the life of the theatre. The terms "liar" and "inartistic" are rather strong and would, no doubt, mightily offend Gorelik and his compa­ triots. Nonetheless, Dolman and Knaub seem to hit the nail on the head in establishing the beginning of a sound argument in favor of the illusion approach to performance theory. They continue: The illusion of art is a thing of the imagination. In it there is pretense but no deception. The child expresses it perfectly when he says, 'Let's pretend.' He has no intention of deceiving anybody, not even himself. It is all a game, with nobody really fooled, but for good sport one must play the game consistently and wholeheartedly, allowing no interference with the imaginative concept. So in the theatre. Nothing is real; nothing is supposed to be. . . . In other words, what is bad in art is not illusion—or the lack of it--per se, but iQSS of aesthetic attitude on the part of the observer. "The illusion of reality in the theatre is based on a tacit agreement of the audience to enter into the pretense." Brian Hansen speaks of this attitude as a contract between actor and audience, wherein the actor agrees to pretend to be someone other than himself while the audience agrees to pretend that they believe him. Indeed, in researching the prevailing views on the "delusion/illusion" question, the overwhelming body of thought supports the notion of theatrical illusion as pretense, not deception. In order to build as solid an argument as possible before moving on, the further thoughts of three authorities should be mentioned. In The Theory of Drama, Allardyce Nicoll quotes from an essay written by Coleridge in 1818: 16 The true stage-illusion . . . consists--not in the mind's judging [a scene] to be a forest, but in its remission of the judgment that it is not a for­ est. . . . For not only are we never absolutely deluded, or anything like it, but the attempt to cause the highest delusion possible to beings in their senses sitting in a theatre, is a gross fault, incident only to low minds, which, feeling that they cannot affect the heart or head permanently, endeavor to call forth the momentary affections. These words, as strongly as any, are evidence of the fact that the nineteenth century subscribers to naturalism did not have sole proprietary rights where production and performance theory are concerned. Nicoll also works to make the case in his own words: No member of an average audience is truly cheated into believing that what he sees on the stage is real, at least, no member of an average audience is capable of believing consciously that the stage-picture and the characters set before him are not mere images, maybe resembling the "real," but certainly not part of that.^® Finally, Brian Hansen argues for the illusion approach in what is, perhaps, the most compelling way of all. He states: . . . The performance contract specifically provides that the audience must themselves pretend to believe. This clearly implies that they do not really believe, and must therefore pretend to do so. In fact, a per­ formance contract cannot be in force unless the audi­ ence knows that what it is seeing is pretense. It is that simple. And if an audience knows that what it is seeing is all pretense, there cannot be deception. It is logically impossible for an honest person to say, "What I will tell you next is a lie," and then be accused of misleading the hearer in the next sentence. . . . [Theatrical illusion is] based on mutual pretense. If the argument against "delusion" (and for "illusion") is not utterly provable, at least it is clear that the most widely held belief is that the audience is 17 aware that theatre is only a representation of reality, and that they allow, in make-believe fashion, that "reality" to become real for the duration of the play. Presumably, at this point a strong argument has been established that theatrical illusion relies heavily on the audience's willing suspension of disbelief.

Attention The remaining purpose of this chapter is to identify the essential techniques which come into play to help create the theatrical illusion. Having done so, the elements of magical illusion can be discussed, and the two types of illusion can be compared. It should be noted that a multitude of techniques are certainly at work in a theatrical performance. To examine them all likely would require several volumes. The purpose here shall be limited to techniques which coincide with those used in magic and which are operative in the creation of both theatrical and magical illusion. The single objective is to establish a basis for comparison of the two. Therefore, in briefly examining techniques used to create theatrical illusion, the concentration here will be on the nature of audience attention, and on emphasis (or focus), in particular. Earlier, it was established that the audience members are willingly vicarious participants in the fraud of theatre. They mentally allow "realities" to be created which are obviously artificial. However, beyond that point they may well become unwitting pawns beyond their wildest imaginings. If the audience members are unconsciously being manipulated--and there is strong evidence that they are--then the theatrical illusion con­ tinues to thrive (at least in part) due to forces which are outside of their conscious control. 18 Theory of attention. The root of this contention is based principally on a theory of attention. This notion is summarized by Dolman and Knaub as follows: Psychologists do not agree upon the nature of attention--or of consciousness--and they are hardly likely to agree as long as some believe the body to be a piece of soulless mechanism, responding automatically to stimuli, whereas others believe it to be controlled through consciousness by an immaterial mind or soul. They do agree, however, upon a practical distinction between two types of attention that they call primary and secondary. Primary attention is the automatic or involuntary attention that we give to a strong external stimulus--a bright flash of light, for instance, or a loud noise, or a sudden slap on the back. The appeal is concrete; that is, it is more or less directly in terms of sense impressions, either real or suggested. Primary attention involves no sense of effort, no conscious intention, no exercise of will power. Secondary attention is voluntary attention, the sort that one gives to a difficult problem through a sense of duty or by force of great concentration. Whether or not there is such a thing as real will power is, of course, the point in dispute, the mechanists holding that what we mistake for will power is but the reaction to the more remote stimuli in the past experience of the individual; but there is certainly a kind of attention in the giving of which we are aware of conscious effort. In the theatre very little dependence should be placed upon secondary or voluntary attention. The teacher or preacher may conceivably have a right to expect his audience to attend by an effort of the will, but the actor has no such right. The problem in the theatre is how to gaiQA. hold, and control primary or involuntary attention. Distraction and monotony. If a play is to attract and hold an audience's attention, then the chief enemies of attention—namely, distraction and monotony 31 --must be purposely avoided. "The audience must be led to see the right things, to hear the right actor, to listen to the 19 right word." 32 If those involved with a production are not constantly on the watch to put distractions to rest, the chances are that they will occur, and the struggle to retain control of the spectators' primary attention will be lost. A person has only to imagine an instance where the audience is quite involved in a play, and suddenly a misplaced broom is accidentally knocked over backstage. The wooden broom handle strikes the wooden floor; the sound reverberates through the floor and off the backstage walls; and, probably, most eyes and ears in the auditorium automatically turn in the direction of the distraction. There is little doubt that this would be the case with most observers. In those few moments, hours of rehearsals and planning against distraction all go for nought, and the entire struggle to manipulate attention must begin again. Therefore, at all times, "there must be careful planning, thorough rehearsal of both cast and stage crew, and the most rigorous censorship of every single element that might catch the primary attention of the audience and lead it astray." The clearest argument for calculating ways to avoid monotony in production is the scientific fact that human beings' attention spans are unbelievably short; therefore, attention-getting (or, perhaps, attention-renewing) gambits must continually be employed to maintain the hold on primary attention. In a general fashion, methods for accomplishing this might be categorized as visual, aural, and emotional. While each will be discussed subsequently as separate from the others, the usual case in actual productions is that they rarely, if ever, operate exclusive of the others. In fact, just the opposite is probably true in most instances. A visual attention- getting device might be used or reinforced with an aural 20 one, an emotional device with a visual one, an aural device with visual and emotional ones, and so on. The point is that these techniques, used properly, can be powerful tools in capturing and renewing an audience's involuntary attention. Visual techniques. The visual methods of attracting attention are: (1) simple, visual image; (2) physical movement; and (3) control of light. Here, a simple, visual image is defined as something such as an actor's body position or a planned compositional arrangement of several performers. Under the working definition, it might also refer to a particular setting in and of itself. In all three examples, though, these things are done with the intent to manipulate attention. Perhaps the setting manipulates the audience into wondering or anticipating what will happen within that environment. Perhaps the composition of bodies in space or the position of a single actor is intended to strongly attract attention in a visual way to create a particular emphasis on a character or an idea being articulated. Physical movement might be seen as an extension of the simple, visual image. The static, visual picture, no matter how strong and attention-getting, attracts attention in a different way than a moving image. The kinetic quality of calculated movement is one of the strongest tools a director has to control attention visually. All things being equal, "anything that moves is more emphatic than things that are not moving." 35 And something that is emphatic is likely to attract attention. Among its most important reasons-for-being, calculated or "imposed" movement has, as one of its purposes, to attract the audience's attention to a particular place. "If something unexpected by the audience is to occur at a particular place on which their 21 attention has not been focused, the movement of the actor to or past that place will draw their attention to the desired area." This technique is referred to as "leading the eye," and John Dolman calls it "perhaps the most important trick for the ordinary stage director to know. . . . [It] is so common that almost any well- directed play [will display the use of this technique.]"^^ Kinetic composition, then, is a most effective method of attracting an audience's attention to the right place at the right time. Lighting, properly used, can also work to attract and direct an audience's attention. In simplest terms, a viewer will generally look where the light is strongest or brightest. The fact that light has the additional quality of being able to move or change in a time continuum only adds to the potential it has as an attention-getter. There is little question that a final scene which contains a poignant summary speech or tableau will likely be more closely attended precisely because careful control and kinetic change of lighting virtually demand that the audience members do so. Lighting, along with simple, visual image and physical movement are, indeed, useful and potent visual tools for controlling attention. Aural techniques. Aural techniques used to direct attention can employ the elements of tempo, pitch, volume and stress, either individually or in combination. "[Auditory] emphasis is the directing of attention to aspects of the auditory composition which are most 38 important at any given moment." Certainly the principal use of auditory emphasis occurs in conjunction with the words of the script. And the words of the script exist chiefly to convey ideas. Utilization of tempo, pitch, volume, and the like can certainly aid in drawing attention in a more emphatic way to those significant ideas. 22 However, sound can also work on a level which is almost purely emotional. Human beings can be affected by sound in a way which touches the baser, animal side of themselves. No thought, no ideas (in the sense referred to above) necessarily need be involved in order for certain types of sound to significantly affect an audience and capture their attention. The sound of the presumed "train to eternity" called for in Dennis Smith's play. Excursion Fare, is a good example. The playwright describes it as the sound of a giant steam engine, "... churring and thumping . . . like the heart beat of a great beast crouched on the other side of the small doors." 39 Assuming this sound effect is properly produced, there is little question that the audience's attention is virtually overwhelmed by the aural presence of the train, and that attention is based principally in the primary, animal nerve center, not in the mind. Likewise, the piercing, surprise scream offstage in a suspense story of some sort can draw immediate attention. There is no need for the audience to mentally consider the ramifications of that abrupt, disturbing sound. Instead, properly done, the scream might instantaneously produce a feeling of fright in the viewers, and in doing so it may, indeed, work in a powerful way to direct their attention where desired. Even supposing that the audience left the theatre and then realized how they had been unwitting dupes to a "cheap, emotion-provoking trick," if they were honest they might confess to having been manipulated completely by it. Conclusion. It is clear that visual and aural techniques, properly used, serve an important function in controlling the involuntary attention of the audience. Although scientifically unproveable, it seems clear that involuntary attention is linked not to the intellect so much as to some baser, perhaps more purely emotional, part 23 of each human being. By skillfully employing methods such as those outlined above, the theatre's production personnel have some very powerful tools to use in controlling attention. That is probably as it should be, for the audience willingly volunteered to believe in the illusion onstage, and they can reasonably expect the skills of the artists to partly take over in helping them to continue their journey through that make-believe world of the play. Knowledge of those techniques and their purposeful incorporation into the production can certainly go far in helping to make the theatrical illusion "real." CHAPTER III MAGICAL ILLUSION

The business of the conjuror is to create illusions, pure and simple. It is his job to perform feats which defy logic or the laws of nature. In effect, he seemingly accomplishes the impossible before a group of apparently intelligent people, and their reactions to those purported miracles typically range from amused skepticism to utter bewilderment. On the best of those occasions the accomplished magician creates illusions which cause even the most skeptical to give pause. Given the understanding that what occurs in a magic performance is, indeed, illusion and not truly miraculous, how is it that the magician can do things which might "convince" even the skeptic that miracles have taken place? This chapter will seek to answer that question by examining the psycholog­ ical and mechanical principles of magical illusion so that a comparison can be made between theatrical illusion and magical illusion. Successful magical illusion most certainly does not depend on the layman's traditional idea that "the hand is quicker than the eye." Any serious student of legerdemain knows otherwise. The words of John Mulholland, as well as any, can lay that notion to rest: It is usually thought that a magician depends upon quickness to keep audiences from seeing through his tricks but this is not true. The fact is that a normal eye can see a motion at least 200 times faster than the most highly trained finger can move...... The hand is not quicker than the eye, but the eyes see a great many things of which the mind takes no notice. Those details which pass unnoticed

24 25 are the extra ones which make the trick possible. . . . The magician depends upon [that] faultiness of human observation. With those words Mulholland lays the groundwork for discussing the true basis of magical illusion. As he says, magic is not based on deception through quickness, but rather on psychological deception. In magical parlance the term for this is misdirection.

Misdirection In simplest terms, misdirection can be defined as manipulating the attention of the audience. Since the magician's hands are not quicker than the spectators' eyes, the magician must direct attention away from the trickery which may be going on right before the spectators and somehow get them to look elsewhere--where he wants them to look. However, in more precise terms misdirection involves more than simply directing the visual attention of the audience. It involves more than distracting any of the senses. The basis of completely effective misdirection lies in the conjuror's ability to manipulate the spectators' minds. The two ideas are anything but mutually exclusive. They depend upon one another, in fact. But, if the mind of the viewer is not manipulated, no true and complete magical illusion can possibly take place. After all, the magician has committed himself to accomplishing impossible feats for his audience. His audience, however, being sensible and logical individuals all, knows that doing the impossible is impossible. Logic dictates as much. Granted, the average spectator will probably go along with what he knows to be pretense in order to help maintain an atmosphere of friendliness. Yet all the while he knows that the magic is a mere charade; his logic tells him so. 26 Therefore, if the magician has any chance of creating a true magical illusion, he will first and foremost have to manipulate the minds of the spectators into a "state of being intellectually deceived" (to use the dictionary definition once more). In other words, the performer must maneuver to create a climate where "the magic show takes place ultimately in the spectator's head."^"'" The focus of this procedure to manipulate the minds of others in order to effect a complete magical illusion is best described by Henry Hay in the following: The central secret of conjuring (and of art and literature and politics and economics) is a manipulation of interest. (Not just of atten­ tion. . . . ) Not obvious but equally important is something else—a point that nothing I've ever read about magic, drama, advertising, or even psychology has made in so many words: Interest is not the same as attention. Attention is a simple response to a stimuli--either to a loud bang or (much more powerful) to a feeling of inter- ^ o U • • • • . . . Interest is a sense of being involved in some process, actual or potential. . . . Interest is selective, an expenditure of energy by the interested party. . . . Attention you may compel briefly with a wham or a bright light; it can be sustained only by interest. Following this. Hay presents two related axioms: (1) "Memory is an internally edited record of interest (not of attention, much less of 'events')"; (2) "Percep­ tion. . . originates with the perceiver, not with the object."^^ Jason Randal explains these axioms in this manner: Perceptions . . . are influenced by the long term memory, which suggests what should be important and relevant. The data which eventually enters the memory is a result of what stimulus the perceiver chose to give his attentions [read: interest] to. The three 27 operations [perception, attention or interest, and memory] are constantly supplying information, and being supplied at almost the same instant. The inference to be drawn from both writers' state­ ments is that unless the magician uses his knowledge that the spectators' interest can and must be manipulated, he can succeed in demonstrating only an amusing puzzle at best. He certainly cannot create a true illusion. On the other hand, if the magician actively employs his knowledge of interest in such a way as to manipulate it to his advantage, he can proceed to use more specific means to achieve his desired end of creating an actual magical illusion. Those means have been variously described by magic theorists, and those articulated by Maskelyne and Devant are as useful as any; they are distraction, disguise, and simulation. 45 Distraction. Distraction, probably the most commonly used method of sensory misdirection, can be achieved visually and aurally, the former being used most often. The conjuror's adage that "when a magician has anything 'magical' to do, he should never look at what he is AC. doing" holds true. By looking instead in the direction of another object to which he has managed to draw the spectators' interest, the magician is in a perfect position to go about surreptitiously doing the "dirty work," as it is known in magic. If he not only looks away from the place where the trickery is occurring, but also points or turns his body in another direction as well, 47 "the [visual] distraction is very potent indeed." In this case the visual misdirection will be doubly strong. Furthermore, if the conjuror were to employ the visual misdirection of physically crossing away from the object of trickery (as well as looking and pointing away from it), the strength of the visual misdirection would likely 28 be increased threefold. And if the element of aural misdirection was incorporated on top of all that, the magician might well be situated to "get away with murder," so to speak. An example of a magic routine which successfully utilized all four levels of sensory misdirection is Blackstone's legendary "Where Did the Ducks Go?" routine which he performed often during the second quarter of this century. The following is a description of Blackstone, Jr.'s, identical 1979 routine, then entitled "Whatever 48 Happened to Disco Duck?" A small box in the shape of a house was seen on the bare stage, stage right, about eight feet away from the wings. As the conjuror spoke at center stage, assistants were seen putting five or six ducks into the box. Suddenly there was an awful crash stage left; exclaiming, "What the . . .?!", the magician turned toward the racket and crossed stage left to help a clumsy assistant who had tripped and sent some apparatus crashing to the floor. Blackstone, Jr., then worked quickly to get the routine back on track and proceeded to vanish the ducks--to the amazement of one and all. The audience was astounded that all the ducks could instantly disappear from a box in the "middle" of the stage. The trickery, however, was of the most primitive and straightforward kind. In the few moments when the performer directed his visual, aural, and physical attentions toward the distraction (and in the process manipulated everyone else's attention in the same direction), the ducks were literally yanked offstage by a rope attached to an inner box. As basic as the method of trickery was, the astonishment of the audience affirmed the power of sensory misdirection by distraction. Disguise. Misdirection by disguise "consists in a skillful blending of suspicious and innocent details in 29 such a manner that the former are overlooked." 49 For example, the magician pulls a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket, shows it to be free of trickery, and shows his hands empty. He puts the handkerchief over his hand, gestures magically, and reveals a ball which has appeared in the covered (and previously empty) hand. Without going into complete detail here, a look at the foregoing will show the use of misdirection by disguise. In reality, the magician's hand which was used to remove the handkerchief from his pocket secretly held the ball all the time. But the beginning of the trick, from the spectator's viewpoint, was the removal of the handkerchief from the pocket. From the instant the handkerchief was displayed it was used to disguise the secret of the trick. As the magician showed first the handkerchief, then each of his hands, the innocent-looking handkerchief camouflaged the trickery. Although there are many magicians who use suspicious gestures and apparatus, there are many others who purposely elect not to do so because they believe that "a magical effect can be created only when there is no apparent existence of trickery." 50 Therefore, to properly employ misdirection by disguise the performer must try to make any movements and gestures look normal and natural, and to disguise any trick devices in his apparatus so that they blend into the basic structure of the object. To do otherwise would be to invite suspicion; to invite suspicion is to invite the spectator to look for trickery; and to implant the suspicion of trickery in the minds of the audience is to erect a monumental roadblock to creating the illusion of an actual miracle. Conversely, to disguise movements or gimmicked apparatus in a manner which raises no suspicions creates a powerful tool for the performance of a real magical illusion. 30 Simulation. Using simulation to misdirect an audience is described as "the principle of giving apparent existence to things that do not exist, or presence to 51 things that are absent." The basic magician's sleight called "the pass" serves well to illustrate the principle of simulation. The magician shows a ball in his left hand, puts it into his closed right hand, says some magic words, and the ball disappears. In reality, he only simulates transferring the ball to his right hand, retaining it (concealed) in the left. Using simulation by seeming to close the right hand around the ball and bulging his empty fist so it appears to contain the ball, the performer can successfully misdirect the audience from the reality of the ball remaining in his left hand. 52 Simulation can also be used with apparatus. It is often extremely important in effects where mechanical devices are employed; and because so many of the magical illusions in plays rely on those devices, it is useful to elaborate on this form of simulation before moving on. In their discussion of simulation with mechanical devices Maskelyne and Devant state: . . . The one important point in every instance alike, is to make sure that the working shall be "clean." On one hand, the simulation in itself must be efficient, and, on the other hand, all evidence that the person or thing simulated has either gone or not yet arrived must be entirely lacking. ... If the simulation is not good, spectators cannot be expected to believe that the object simulated is where it is supposed to be. Nor can they be expected to believe, no matter how perfect the simulation, that an object still remains ... if the getting-away ... of the object is more or less in evidence. The statements above might be viewed as elaboration on the obvious, but the points made are critical to many apparatus illusions, nevertheless. Unless one concentrates very specifically on making each and every 31 aspect of a simulation absolutely convincing, the chances of succeeding in producing a complete magical illusion are very small indeed.

Magical Effects Having examined the principles of misdirection and established how those principles come into play in manipulating audience attention and interest, the study must now look at the various magical effects that are possible. Some of the methods of achieving those effects will also be covered, as they are equally important to this study. In a general sense, all of magic can be divided into three categories: manipulative, mental, and physical: Manipulative Magic is that which depends upon what is called "sleight-of-hand." In other words, it is a form of jugglery. Mental Magic is the branch comprising, mainly, the various secret processes which a performer "works out in his head," during his performance. Physical Magic, by far the most extensive and most important branch, includes those processes which depend upon the use of mechanical appliances, or other adaptations of the physical sciences in general. In this study there will be no attempt to cover all of these areas of magic. First of all, nothing has come to light that would indicate the use of mental magic (as defined above) in the legitimate theatre. Secondly, although there are instances of manipulative magic being used in plays, they are not found nearly as often as instances of physical magic. Since the effects and methods involved in manipulative magic are so often akin to those done in physical magic, a lengthy discussion of the former would be mostly redundant. For purposes of this study, it will be sufficient here to limit the examination to the effects and methods of physical magic. 32 Particular instances of manipulative magic used in the vampire plays can be incorporated into the discussion of the plays themselves. Fitzkee's basic effects. This study is greatly indebted to the work of Dariel Fitzkee for the classifications of magic effects and methods. His book. The Trick Brain, is undoubtedly the most thorough and analytical work on the subject. The purpose of The Trick Brain is to suggest a different, more scientific way for magicians to invent magic tricks, but here it serves equally well as a chief resource for a study of the trick- work in the vampire plays. The following are the basic effects, as identified by Fitzkee, which apply to physical magic as it might be required in a play: l--Production (Appearance, creation, multiplication) 2—Vanish (Disappearance, obliteration) 3--Transposition (Change in location) 4--Transformation (Change in appearance, character or identity) 5--Penetration (One solid through another) 6—Restoration (Making the destroyed whole) 7--Animation (Movement imparted to the inanimate) 8—Antigravity (Levitation and change in weight) 9—Attraction (Mysterious adhesion) 10—Sympathetic Reaction (Sympathetic Response) 11—Invulnerability (Injury proof) 12--Physical anomaly . . . Exceptions or contradictions to normal physical rules or reactions. The author goes on to mention other basic effects, principally of a mental nature, and concludes: "I am firmly convinced that more than ninety-nine per cent of 56 all tricks will fall within these classifications." Any reader has only to read Fitzkee for himself to confirm the careful and thorough scrutiny with which he undertook his study. A reader can feel confident that the list of 33 effects will be more than sufficient to examine the trick- work in vampire plays. Fitzkee's mechanisms. Fitzkee's other summary listing, however, is of even more value to the present study, for it thoroughly itemizes the mechanisms available to achieve a magic effect. The list is reproduced here in abbreviated form, giving only those mechanisms which can be identified as clearly being useful to creating a physical magic effect in a play. Those mechanisms are as follows: 1--Secret hiding places. . . . 3--Forms to simulate objects. 4—Detachable portions. 5--Pulled threads. 6--Movement through gravity or centrifugal force. 7--Revolving panels. 8--Secret compartments--fixed and movable. 9--Shell objects. [That is, an apparently solid object which is actually just a shell or casing]. 10--Interchangeable compartments. ll--Conveyance, concealed by an accessory. 12--Access to nearby hiding places. 13--Covers blending with backgrounds. 14--Secret passageways. 15--Chemical reactions. 16—Optical illusions. . . . 18--Secret exchange. . . . 21--Expansibility [sic], compressibility and collapsibility. 22--Movement through elastics, springs and other power. . . . 24--0ptical projection. . . . 26--Duplicates. . . . 28—Substitution. 29--Invisible connections. 30--Concealed connections. 31--Concealed power. 32--Secret manipulation. 33--Magnetic attraction. . . . 36--Adhesion. . . . 46--Confederacy. ... 54--Dual-identity construction. 34 It is interesting to note that several other "mechanisms" listed by Fitzkee are those already discussed under misdirection. In the end, however, it is not important (except, perhaps, in a different academic context) whether something like diverted attention or disguise is classified as a technique of misdirection or as a mechanism. That matter of semantics can be argued elsewhere. What is important here is to recognize that psychological misdirection and its related techniques are employed side by side with mechanical principles to achieve physical magic effects. Conclusion. A mechanical operation by itself is of little value in the performance of magic. A so-called "self-working" magic trick, performed with no regard for the necessary psychological manipulation of the spectators, will succeed only in amusing the most cooperative viewer and in making the viewer who was skeptical in the beginning even more so at the end. To reiterate, what is needed to create a true magical illusion is a combination of crafty mechanical methods coupled with a deep intent on the part of the conjuror to create a psychological atmosphere which allows the impossible to happen. CHAPTER IV ILLUSION VERSUS ILLUSION

Thus far, this much is clear: theatre and magic are both arts of illusion. The two preceding chapters examined the foundations of each kind of illusion and enumerated some of the methods used to accomplish each. The chief goal of this chapter is to try to discover whether or not a conjuring point of view could be useful to theatre artists in solving problems of staging supernatural effects for a play. To that end, this chapter will first review some of the bases of dramatic and magical illusion in a context where magic and theatre can be compared side by side. Secondly, and of equal importance to the question at hand, this chapter will discuss the relationship that should exist when magical effects are called for within the larger context of a dramatic production. Here the views of several authors will be touched upon in the hope that some sort of firm perspective on the active role of magical illusion within a play can be established.

Illusion--Theatrical Earlier it was submitted that the term illusion has somewhat different meanings depending upon whether one is referring to theatre or magic. If the subject is theatrical illusion, the crucial ingredient is conscious awareness of the make-believe nature of the event. The audience members agree, in effect, to sublimate their natural skepticism and accept that make-believe; having fulfilled their part of the contract, they then have every

35 36 right to expect that the artists will skillfully use every technique at their command to create a powerfully convincing illusion of actuality. They do not expect to be convinced to the point of becoming deluded, but they do expect the dramatic illusion to be persuasive enough to prompt seemingly genuine emotional and mental responses within themselves. Robert Corrigan provides an excellent elaboration on this when he states: . . . The theatre is a place where the ghosts we carry with us all our lives are made present so that we can experience them as if directly without having to fear the consequences of that confrontation. The "as if" is important [emphasis added]. In theatre, we are always conscious that what's going on only appears to be real. It is all an illusion. It is a representation of reality, not reality itself. It must be make-believe. Many events taking place on the stage--even in the frothiest comedy--would at best be anxiety-provoking and in most instances would be too difficult to bear if we were dealing with them directly. One of the most interesting characteristics of theatre is that it continually draws our attention to its own pretense and illusion. . . . The theatre can speak the unspeakable and show that which should not be shown because we are never allowed to forget we are watching a play with players playing. If one of theatre's main purposes, then, is to be a kind of mirror of our existence, there is good reason to argue that no aspect of theatre should be aimed at deluding the audience. In fact, if one accepts Corrigan's ideas, one finds a compelling reason for creating a kind of illusion in the theatre which purposely seeks to make all aware, at least subtly, of the pretense. To do otherwise would be to defeat what is taken here to be one of theatre's chief reasons-for-being. 37 Illusion--Magical Conversely, the thrust of magical illusion is an effort to totally deceive. That is a rather tall order since "the audience at a play supplies willing credulity [whereas] the conjuror's audience is deliberately 59 skeptical." Therefore, if a true magical illusion (as opposed to just a "trick") is to be effected, the magician must utterly deceive. The essence of magical illusion is such that the most observant, most skeptical observer is so thoroughly mystified that even he is led to conclude, "It must be magic!" Has he been deluded to the point of believing that he actually witnessed a supernatural occurrence? To even suggest that would be both foolhardy and presumptuous. Short of that, however, it is safe to say that every spectator might be so utterly baffled as to believe that an unexplainable mystery has been witnessed. That is, after all, the ultimate goal of magical illusion.

Differences Thus, the illusions in theatre and in magic are different because they have different goals. The objective of theatre is to arouse an audience by presenting an illusion within the framework of mutually agreed-upon rules. The spectators will accept even difficult emotional experiences, but only so long as the conventions of theatrical illusion allow them to do that in a safe, vicarious way. The only rule in force in creating magical illusion, however, is that the performer must try to so completely control the spectators' perceptions that they are left with no clue as to the trickery. Despite themselves, they will be forced to conclude that the illusion is unexplainable. The motivations and activity of the theatre audience assist in realizing theatrical illusion. They are 38 themselves active participants in the pretense. But the magic audience experiences a magical illusion when the performer uses mechanics, skill, and knowledge of psychology to turn their natural "unwillingness" to be deceived inside out. By doing so he changes a major liability into his strongest ally, resulting in the achievement of his goal--illusion by virtue of complete deception.

Similarities Beyond these differences, however, magic and theatre are so closely related as to employ many identical methods to achieve their particular ends. For example, a standard directing text lists the following methods of creating emphasis: body position, area of the stage, levels, contrast, isolation, focus, line, triangles, scenic fin reinforcement, and lighting. A text on magic, interestingly, lists the following factors to be considered in controlling attention: center of interest, focus of attention, performer's interest, pointing, fii contrast, movement, variety, and distraction. The two lists are not identical, of course, but their similarities are remarkable. The theatre text discusses techniques for directing the attention of the audience; the magic text cites methods of directing (and misdirecting) viewers' attention. The ultimate goal of both magic and theatre is to create illusions, in great part by employing identical techniques to control attention. Dolman and Knaub's text on play production makes this point clear by presenting an example which refers to both magic and theatre: The extent to which it is possible to control and direct attention is perhaps best illustrated by the sleight-of-hand artist. Half the secret of his magic lies in his ability to direct the attention of the 39 audience to the wrong place. By talking glibly and looking with great apparent interest at his right hand he practically compels his audience to look at that hand, whereas he performs the essential part of his trick with his left hand and nobody sees him do it. A good magician employs for this purpose not only the devices of the actor—speech, gesture, and facial expression—but those of the stage director as well, including position, movement, business, line, mass, scenic effect, light, and shadow. The student of stage directing who is not too sternly opposed to trickery may learn from such performers a great many facts about the psychology of attention that will prove valuable in actual play production. There are, then, these two types of illusion whose ends are different but whose means are similar. And in the vast array of dramatic literature are many plays-- vampire plays among them--which require that magical effects happen as part of the story. What is the place of magic in these plays? Should magical methods be used at all--or used exclusively--to accomplish the effects? Should theatrical trick-work be used at all--or used exclusively? Are the mechanics of theatre effects and the mechanics of magic really that different? If conjuring techniques and actual conjuring illusions are done in the course of a play, do they threaten to distract from the essential focus--the play itself, or can they be used to reinforce the dramatic action? These and many other questions come to mind when considering productions of the "vampire play" type. The remainder of this chapter will seek to answer some of these questions.

Fitzkee for the Theatre Charles Joseph Pecor has pointed out the difficulty of trying to show that theatre methodology influenced the methodology of magic and vice versa. However, it is safe to say that the mechanics of magic and the mechanics 40 of theatrical trick-work are in many ways similar and often identical. If (and here that word should be stressed) there is a substantial difference between the mechanical methodology of magic and that of theatre, it lies not so much in the employment of radically different mechanisms as in the analytical manner in which the magician can select a mechanical principle to achieve a desired illusion. Armed with such a precise and thorough list of possible methods as that developed by Fitzkee (see Chapter III), the magician would seem to have the upper hand in arriving at the most convincing way of creating a desired effect. It stands to reason that if one has access to a carefully developed inventory of virtually all known mechanical ways of creating a magic effect, then one is in a stronger position to astonish all spectators. Even if it could be demonstrated that theatre technicians use most or all of the same mechanics as magicians to create effects, there is nothing which has been found to show that those technicians have anything so calculated as Fitzkee's analysis to fall back upon. On the other hand, any experienced technician who peruses the Fitzkee list will recognize methods which have been used to accomplish trick-work in particular plays. Furthermore, from the same list he might recognize one or more other methods which might have accomplished the effect in as good a way or better. Upon reading Fitzkee's examples of how to use the list to invent a solution to doing an effect, the technician might very well realize that using the same approach to solving a trick-work problem could generate success in the form of improved methodology, stronger effect, or the like. And if the technician (as well as a director or actors) chooses to study the psychological techniques of 41 misdirection as used in conjunction with creating complete magical illusion, he could very well find that the trick- work effect, having consciously borrowed so much mechanical and psychological technique from conjuring, is every bit as convincing and mystifying as the finest magical illusion. In his book, Fitzkee takes the reader through many analyses of this kind in order to demonstrate the application of his approach. Later, in reviewing the vampire plays, this study will try to create a few examples of Fitzkee's way of thinking in order to demonstrate the potential practical value to the theatre technician. 65 If that value can be shown, it will validate the argument that applying a magic-oriented approach to theatrical trick-work problem-solving can render a stronger effect.

Magic's Place in Drama Before that can be done, however, it is important to inquire as to the place of magical illusions in a legitimate play. In this regard the following section relies heavily upon two axioms presented by Maskelyne and Devant: (1) When Magic and Drama are combined in one presentation, the stage procedure should primarily be governed by the dramatic requirements of the case, rather than by the normal principles of Art in Magic. . . . (2) . . . When, in a combination of the two arts, the primary requirements of Drama have been satisfied, all subsidiary details of procedure should be dictated by the normal principles of Art in Magic. With regard to the first axiom, the writers make the point that while a magic illusion is complete in itself, once "superimposed upon ... a master-plot having a master- climax [i.e., a play], the magic must be subordinated to 42 the plot in the interest of dramatic unity." With respect to the second axiom, Maskelyne and Devant state very clearly their view that within the context of the dramatic plot the magical effects must be given due consideration. Since these thoughts on the subject apply equally to the magician who might be called upon to assist in creating a magical bit of trick-work for a certain play and to the theatre worker who might desire to look to conjuring principles to create the same, it is worth the space to quote Our Magic at length: Satisfactory provision for the exigencies of drama having been made, all other matters must be governed by magical considerations. It is when there exists either ignorance or neglect of the truths embodied in [these two axioms], that we find antagonism between magic and drama in combination. We can quite easily understand how such antagonism arises, by recalling what so often occurs in practice. If a theatrical manager presents a combination of the two arts, he proceeds as though the magical details were of no importance whatever. He works entirely upon his usual lines of procedure. He acts as though he were producing an ordinary drama. The requirements of magic never enter his head. It is only after completing the production, from a dramatic standpoint--stage business, scenery, furniture, fittings and dresses included--he begins to think about the magical effects which have to be introduced. The natural result is an entire failure in ultimate effect. The performance induces no sense of conviction in the minds of those who witness it. The magical occurrences essential to the theme are ruined, and in their ruin the whole production is wrecked. Conversely, a magician has to guard against a natural tendency in the opposite direction. Some allowance, no doubt, may be made by others on that account, but he should make none on his own part. He should not allow his ideas to be dominated by the desire to make the utmost of his magical business, without regard to the dramatic theme with which it is 43 associated. Otherwise, he will fail in the final result, just as surely as the dramatist who throws the whole of his energy into a drama, regardless of the magical episodes upon which his ultimate success largely depends. Nothing has been found that calls into question the ideas presented above. Nor does there really seem to be any reason to think that anyone would contest those ideas, for they simply make sense. As if to reinforce the thoughts of Maskelyne and Devant, Henning Nelms writes: Conjuring illusions are more delicate than drama. A play is long; if the spell is broken, it can usually be rewoven. Also, the spectators do everything in their power to suspend their own disbelief. Once a conjuring illusion is destroyed, it has gone forever. There is no time to rebuild it, and the spectators offer no help. . . . In this statement Nelms also provides another reminder about the ultimate distinction of purposes between theatrical illusion and magical illusion, as well as the basic differences in the nature of the two illusions. In the next chapter a number of vampire plays will be reviewed, and in the course of that review certain effects will be examined in detail. That examination will substantiate a number of the claims made to this point, and in so doing should provide some food for thought for anyone seriously interested in looking further into the idea of utilizing the conjuring approach to solve trick- work requirements of the legitimate stage. CHAPTER V TRICK-WORK IN THE VAMPIRE PLAYS

The researcher's route to the vampire plays is a somewhat circuitous one. He finds innumerable studies on vampirism, vampires in literature, and so on, but then he finds that information on plays about vampires is still scarce. It turns out that such a route has its advantages in a study like this. If the particular genre of plays with magical effects were a more accessible one, it would be very difficult to decide what to eliminate and what to include. That is not the case with the vampire plays. Ironically, it has become a positive factor in the present investigation because only a few vampire plays need to be reviewed to cover a fairly broad scope of magical effects. Lest the historical side become lost altogether, however, some space will be devoted to a look at aspects otherwise tangential to the main topic. The principle focus, of course, is on using these plays as models to discover the advantages of applying the Fitzkee system to trick-work problem-solving, and every effort will be made not to stray too far from this focus.

The Vampire (1820) Dr. John Polidori was "the first to use the figure of 70 the vampire in prose," in the year 1819. By June of 1820, his story, "The Vampyre," had been adapted for the French stage by Charles Nodier. The melodrama "with music by Alexandre Piccini and scenery by Ciceri, was produced in Paris on 13th June, 1820, at the Theatre de la Porte- 71 Saint-Martin." The production received immediate popular acclaim, so much so that "even the book of the

44 45 play had an immense circulation and every morning Barba's counter was freshly stocked with huge piles of the 72 duodecimo, which rapidly diminished during the day." Less than two months passed before a loose translation appeared across the English Channel and captured the imagination of the British theatregoers. James Robinson Planche, "who was to devote his life to making the English theatre respectable and historically accurate, began his career by practising the blackest of magic in The Vampyre [sic]." 73 "The summer production represents Planche's first attempt at Gothic drama, and his second attempt (so far as we can determine) at the 74 , / translation from the French." In the late 1800s Planche gave an account of the production in his autobiography. He wrote: A more fortunate melodrama of mine, "The Vampire; or the Bride of the Isles," was produced at the Lyceum, or English Opera House, as it was then called (August 9, 1820). Mr. Samuel James Arnold, the proprietor and manager, had placed in my hands for adaptation a French melodrama, entitled "Le Vampire," the scene of which"* was laid, with the usual recklessness of French dramatists, in Scotland, where the superstition never existed. I vainly endeavoured to induce Mr. Arnold to let me change it to some place in the east of Europe. He had set his heart on Scotch music and dresses—the latter, by the way, were in stock--laughed at my scruples, assured me that the public would neither know nor care--and in those days they certainly did not—and therefore there was nothing left for me but to do my best with it. The result was most satisfactory to the management. The situations were novel and effective; the music lively and popular; the cast strong, comprising T.P. Cooke, who made a great hit in the principal character, Harley, Bartley, Pearman, Mrs. Chatterley, and Miss Love. The trap now so well known as "the Vampire trap" was invented for this piece, and the final disappearance of the Vampire caused quite a sensation. The melodrama had a long run, was often 46 revived, and is to this day a stock piece in the country. I had an opportunity many years afterwards, however, to treat the same subject in a manner much more satisfactory to myself, and, as it happened, in the same theatre, under the same management; but of that anon. An 1820 edition of the play contains a so-called "advertisement" which indicates that Planche was, indeed, less than comfortable with the anomaly of a Scottish vampire. It reads: The Author must apologize to the Public for the liberty which has been taken with a Levantic Superstition, by transplanting it to the Scottish Isles; but the unprecendented success of the French Piece, entitled, "LE VAMPIRE," of which this Melo­ drama is a free translation, induced him to hazard the same experiment, for the sake of the same dramatic effect."^ Nonetheless, from the standpoint of theatre trick-work the play is quite important historically, for it "introduced a new form of trap to the stage and a new term to its vocabulary." 77 That single invention makes a look at The Vampire worthwhile. Three versions of the play will be used in this analysis. The first, and most informative, is the 1820 edition mentioned above. The city of publication is given as Baltimore. The copy is obviously a stage manager-type promptbook containing interleaved manuscript notes, evidently in the hand of John B. Wright whose signature and the date, "1843," are written on the first page. The handwritten word, "Boston," on page eleven indicates it might have been used in a Boston production of the play. The second version to be used here is what seems to be a more "commercial" publication, "printed from the acting copy, with remarks, biographical and critical . . . 78 [and] . . . embellished with a fine engraving." Page "A3" of the remarks bears a dated signature reading. 47 "Samuel D. Jones 16 March 42." The first page of the text has the signature of Thomas Royce [?] crossed out. Another signature appears below that, but it is indecipherable. It is evident that the prompter's notes are not in Jones' handwriting. Beyond that, it cannot be determined whose handwriting it is. Overall, the manuscript notes leave the impression that this production of the play was not as technically elaborate as the production for which the Wright script was used. The third version of The Vampire appears in Michael Kilgariff's book. The Golden Age of Melodrama. 79 From the way the dialogue has been abbreviated and from minor changes in wording it is clear that Kilgariff drew upon a copy of the script other than one of the ones already mentioned. This rendition of the play has proved to be the least helpful to the task at hand. It is these three versions of The Vampire which will be used to try to identify and reconstruct the effects from the productions. As a matter of efficiency and economy, some liberties have been taken in citing parts of the play and the manuscript notes. Unless stated otherwise, the printed portion of the text is taken from Wright's copy since it appears similarly or identically in all three versions. The prompters' notes from the Wright and Smith copies have been interspersed in the following citation, appearing where they belong in each of the scripts. 80 The short "Introductory Vision" scene actually contains the majority of the identifiable effects used in the entire play. It reads as follows: --"Slow curtain up"®""" [or] "very slow" ,-- . . .to slow Music, . . . the Interior of the Basaltic Caverns of Staffa; at the extremity of which is a Chasm opening to the Air.--"1/2 Dark. Blue Bottles. Moon lighted."—The Moonlight streams through it, and 48 partially reveals a number of rude Sepulchres. . (Music—The Spirit of the Air descends through the Chasm, on a silvery Cloud, which she leaves and advances. . . . (They perform Magical Ceremonies to the Symphony of the following Charm.)

Phantom, from thy tomb so drear. At our bidding swift arise; Let thy Vampire-corpse appear. To this sleeping maiden's eyes.

At our bidding rise! appear! Thunder. ..84 —"Ring trap Bell w fire and gong." [or] "Blue fire"^^-- (A Vampire succeeds from the tomb of Cromal —"C" --and springs toward [the slumbering] Margaret. . . . UNDA. Down, thou foul spirit;--extermination waits thee: Down, I say. R7 —"Ring trap bell w fire and Gong."— (Music--The Vampire sinks again, shuddering, and the scene closes.) --"Gauze descends. Clouds work on in 1st g[roove?] and when all ready behind. Work off clouds and take up gauze and discover Scene 1." [or] "And a Slow Curtain when Ariel has ascended half way to the flies. "^°— Atmosphere. The lighting effects mentioned (and others in the play as well) are not trick-work per se. They are noted here, however, because they are very important in establishing the right atmosphere for supposedly supernatural effects. Henning Nelms states that "inducing a suspension of disbelief ... is done by establishing an atmosphere in which the illusion will seem plausible." 91 Hence, the half-darkness and the blue moonlight streaming into the cavern must be considered as vitally important in creating the overall illusions, both 49 theatrical and magical. Evidently they were successful enough to rouse at least one critic to remark in the following fashion: . . . The vision at the beginning [and that] ... at the end of the piece . . . were admirably managed [but] . . . the representation of the effects of moonlight . . . [was the play's] greatest charm. ... It lulled the sense of sight as the fancied sound of the dashing waters soothed the imagination. Certainly this was the effect that Planche wished the atmosphere to have upon the audience. Despite the story presenting what Hazlitt called "the repugnance of every circumstance and feeling," it appears that Planche sought to "lull" the unsuspecting audience by concocting an introductory scene which stood as a counterpoint to a plot which was otherwise somewhat distasteful. In the words of the playwright: . . . I should be amongst the last to advocate any scenic representation in which good taste and feeling were outraged for a mere coup de theatre, or to propose any exhibition tending to brutalize the people. This statement makes it clear that Planche had strong feelings about the subordinate place of magical effects in the whole of the drama. The reason for this remark may become more clear to the reader when the vampire's disappearance in the play's final moment is covered subsequently. Levitation. The first instances in the play which might actually be labelled trick-work come with the descent (and subsequent ascent) of the Spirit of the Air. There is no indication in any of the scripts as to how the effect was accomplished, but Hazlitt's remark above makes it clear that it was effective. Magic jargon would refer to this kind of an effect as "levitation." The technicians might have used some kind of standard 50 theatrical "flying" apparatus, or they might have used so- called "irons," "to which the performers [were] strapped, . . . made of the finest, best-tempered metal. ..." They were "generally secured by extending them below the stage" and worked by technicians in the manner of a giant 94 lever. These methods would equate to what Dariel Fitzkee identifies as the methods of "invisible support— hair, thread, wire" and "concealed support ... at the side or back," respectively. Other methods are possible, however. Of the thirteen means of levitation listed by Fitzkee, at least six (including the two cited above) could conceivably solve the problem of creating the effect of levitation in The Vampire. To offer only one example here, "concealment through black art principles" 96 would seem to have great potential, given the illumination called for in the Vision scene. "Black art" is nothing more than covering an object with fabric and placing it in front of a (usually) black background. The covering matches the background color, and, with proper lighting, the object and its covering are rendered completely invisible to the spectators' eyes. The black art principle certainly seems a workable solution to hide the mechanism for levitation in this scene. Pursuing this line of analysis with some of Fitzkee's other listed methods could yield additional solutions. They might even help to produce a far more convincing magical illusion than the method that was probably used in 1820. Fitzkee's system applied to trick-work offers a full "bag of tricks" to the theatre mechanic. It opens the door on a wide range of solutions which might never otherwise occur to the average technician. Optical projection. The gauze effect mentioned in Wright's manuscript notes was not trick-work as much as 51 pure theatrical spectacle, but the principle at work should not be overlooked. W.J. Lawrence mentioned gauzes being used to create cloud or mist scenes, 97 as was undoubtedly the case with The Vampire. However, the use of gauzes goes well beyond that and is really a rather crude employment of the magical principle of "optical projection." Gauze—or scrim--effects rely on reflection or lack of it to create their effect. Lighted only from behind, the gauze is fairly transparent. Lighted only from the front, it becomes fairly opaque. In essence, the gauze becomes a sort of crude mirror, reflecting light and visually obscuring the holes in the loosely woven material. George Moynet mentioned obtaining "the effect of disappearance or a vanishing ghost in the theatre by means of metallic gauze." 98 Thinking for a moment about how optical projection is used here could lead the technician to explore new possibilities for solving problems having to do with magical effects. If he sees that metallic gauze is one step closer to an actual mirror, he will have taken another step toward realizing the advantage in learning about the methods of magic; and while the method of the "mirror principle" used in magic will not be revealed here, the perceptive technician could almost deduce it for himself. More atmosphere. No actual trick-work appears between the Vision and the end of the play, but the sound and lighting effects which are called for contribute, once again, to the production's overall atmosphere. And although it is outside the province of this study, the truly interested reader might do well to peruse Wright's promptscript, as it provides a bit of firsthand insight into the physical staging of plays in 1843. 52 Act Two opens in the eerie caverns seen previously in the Introductory Vision. It is not long before thunder is heard; it increases, accompanied by the strains of melodramatic music. The likeable Ruthven (actually the vampire), having apparently died at the end of Act One, is resurrected to pursue his evil ends. The "green globe" 99 effect of the moon, the dim lighting, and the growing sounds of thunder and gusts of wind are added--layer upon layer—until: (RUTHVEN draws his poignard: rushes on RONALD.--LADY MARGARET shrieks; . . . Lady M. Hold! hold!—I am thine;—the moon has set. Ruth. And I am lost!

[A terrific Peal of Thunder is heard; UNDA and ARIEL appear; a Thunder Bolt strikes RUTHVEN to the ground, who immediately vanishes. General picture.] THE CURTAIN FALLS. "^^^ However "melodramatic" by today's standards, the spectacular sound and lighting effects set the stage for the final bit of actual trick-work by charging the whole atmosphere with electricity. It is not the province of this study to go into those effects except to suggest, for later reference, that a flash pot might well have been needed for misdirection as a part of the thunderbolt effect. However, it is obvious that the effects helped to manipulate the audience toward the crescendo of the piece where, as Planche put it, "The final disappearance of the Vampire caused quite a sensation." Trap effects. Curiously, none of the three versions of the play contains any prompter's notes about readying or operating the vampire trap for that final vanish. However, none of the prompters crossed out the printed description of the effect either. That crossing out 53 occurred elsewhere in the promptscripts, so it is more than reasonable to suppose that the famous vampire-trap disappearance was generally performed in every production. The other matter for consideration here is whether the vampire trap was used for Ruthven's initial appearance and subsequent disappearance during the Introductory Vision. Wright's notes clearly show that a trap was used there, but was it the vampire trap? A bit of pure speculation suggests the possibility that by 1843 the effect was well known and was used simply for added spectacle. But there is no way to either prove or disprove anything along these lines. However, Planche's own words may provide the clue needed to speculate intelligently about the situation in the original 1820 production. Again, as Planche stated it, "The final disappearance of the Vampire caused quite a sensation [emphasis added]." If the audience had already seen the effect in the beginning of the play, why would seeing it again at the end cause "quite a sensation?" Also, in the Vision the script describes the vampire as "sinking" back down into the tomb. The word "sinking" does not connote an effect where a person "immediately vanishes," as the script describes him doing at the last. Furthermore, if there was any intention to create a final effect that was not only surprising but astounding (like the objectives of a true and complete magical illusion), why would the same method be used earlier? Experienced conjurors all know better than to repeat an effect for an audience. On the relatively rare occasions when they intentionally repeat effects, they purposely use different methods. This retains the mystery and allows for a greater chance to effect a complete magical illusion. This reasoning makes as much sense for trick-work in a play like The Vampire as it does for a 54 legitimate magic show. In all likelihood the effects in the Vision were accomplished with another sort of trap mechanism, and the vampire trap was reserved for use exclusively at the end of the play. The vampire trap. It has already been stated that the vampire trap was so named because of its invention for this play. Every historic trap device mentioned in the literature holds its own particular brand of fascination, and the vampire trap is no exception. Some writers equate it with the so-called trappe anglaise, as the French termed it, but Richard Southern suggests that this is a partial misnomer. He states: The term [trappe anglaise] seems to have covered more than one strict type, but, in one form at least, it was a pair of spring-hinged flaps high up in the scenery through which, for instance, a celestial figure might be projected upon the end of a horizontally-sliding bar to appear, as it were, in space, deliver a warning or a blessing, and, as mys­ teriously, vanish. J. P. Moynet, a Frenchman, used the term in specific reference to what some authorities describe as the vampire trap itself. It is a bit different from the particular trappe anglaise to which Southern refers above. Here is his account: . . . What especially excited curiosity was to see this singular character pass through the walls and the earth without one being able to discover any opening there. This was the first appearance in Paris of the trappe anglaise. This mechanism was absolutely unknown and was a prodigious success. Since, it has been used often, but not always successfully. It requires perfection of execution; otherwise, it is absolutely ridiculous. A solid frame or flat with two shutters or double doors—that is the entire machine, but the details merit all our attention. Each of the shutters is divided according to its width in a certain number of strips bound together by a cloth glued to the 55 backstage side; on this cloth is applied a series of very flexible steel bands, the ends of which are solidly attached to the frame. The two shutters are thus kept flush with the surface of the flat. If a heavy body coming with speed . . . throws itself against the middle, the two shutters easily give way, then quickly spring back to their original position as soon as the man has passed through. The steel bands that will have given way by bending, will spring back immediately while bringing the shutters of the trap back to their position. If the actor has passed through very quickly, the opening will not be seen. This is what always happens when the passage is effected through the floor, the weight of the actor precipitating his fall. Such is the trappe anglaise. Great effects can be obtained with its aid, but adroitness and alertness is necessary on the actor's part. He must not go through the shutters as slowly as one would pass through an ordinary door. . . . Percy Fitzgerald, in his excellent book. The World Behind the Scenes (required reading for any student of technical theatre history, as is Moynet's work), describes the English trap in the following way: . . . The "trappe anglaise" was invented by us, and seems to be more thought of abroad than it is here. . . .[It] consists of a number of elastic belts of steel, like two combs placed with their teeth together. . . .Sometimes twigs are used. . . . To be effectively used, [it] requires a sort of courage and daring, as the effect depends on its being, as it were, recklessly done. All of that is well and good. However, if Fitzgerald is to be accorded a measure of expertise about the vampire trap, then all of the preceding descriptions are technically not descriptions of the genuine vampire trap. Subsequent to his description of the English trap, Fitzgerald continues: During the performance . . . the performer of a sudden will disappear through the floor of the stage, the eyeof a person to whom the thing is novel and 56 unexpected not being able to follow the process. This is known as the "Vampire trap,"[emphasis added] and is formed of two indiarubber doors or leaves, through which the performer passes, and which close behind him. The regular trap-door, which had been withdrawn, is immediately after fitted into its place, and makes all secure. As far as can be discovered, this last account is the only one in which the term, "vampire trap," is attached to a specific description of a trap by the original writer of such an account. If that allows the conclusion to be drawn that the apparatus as described by Fitzgerald is the "genuine article"--and the presumptive evidence suggests that it is--then one particular statement from his account becomes more significant. In a short comment in Theatre Notebook in 1980, Alfred Emmet, after citing both Southern and Fitzgerald, raises the following issue: Clearly, the principle of the two spring leaves can be applied in either the horizontal or vertical plane and either could quite possibly have derived from the other. But is it known which came first? That is to say, was the original Vampire's sensational disappearance downwards or outwards? Probability seems to suggest the former, but I would be interested to know of any direct evidence one way or the other. The last statement quoted from Fitzgerald clearly reads, "the performer of a sudden will disappear through the floor" [emphasis added]. Beyond that, why would a "regular [meaning weight-bearing] trap-door" have to be immediately inserted to make all secure unless it was to keep the other actors from falling through a rubber-doored hole in the floor? Also, Moynet's account suggests a better reliability of mechanism when spring-like doors are in the floor as opposed to the wall, possibly because straight-down assistance from gravity would probably be faster and more sure-fire than hurtling one's body horizontally through spring doors in a wall. 57 From a magician's point of view, the question would be settled as follows. The engraving in the front of Smith's 1842 (or earlier) copy of the play supposedly shows the staging of the scene just before Ruthven cries, "And I am lost!" and disappears. The scene as rendered clearly shows a floor treatment of diagonally laid-out squares with a circular design contained within each square. The actor playing Ruthven is poised directly over the center of one square, his feet upon the edges of adjacent squares. Should that engraving ever be proven to be an accurate rendition of the scene as it was actually staged, it would all but settle the question Emmet raises. In reacting to Margaret's line and crying out, "And I am lost!," the actor would only have to spring upward slightly, bring his feet together, and fall straight downward through the rubber doors beneath him. The thunderbolt which strikes Ruthven--presumably a lighting and sound effect--would provide misdirection by distraction, and the actor would seem to vanish. The preceding material suggests the use of many techniques from the field of legerdemain. The vampire trap scene holds the potential for being an almost perfect magical illusion in every respect, and it would probably be a mistake to tamper with it in an effort to try to "improve" the illusion. Nonetheless, should some technician wish to investigate this possibility, or otherwise wish to acquaint himself with a large number of methods for effecting disappearances, he would only have to look to Fitzkee for inspiration. There he would find forty-eight methods—more than sufficient to reveal one which would precisely suit his purpose. 58 Dracula (1927) The 1927 version of Dracula is not nearly as significant in the annals of technical theatre history as Planche's vampire play. It does, however, have much to offer in terms of this study. Here is a vampire play which goes off in a somewhat different direction than The Vampire. Dracula is a play in which the occult perhaps is intended to be more in evidence in the effects. While this study is not primarily interested in historical comparisons and ramifications, a researcher who desires to delve into such things will find here a partial foundation upon which to build such an examination. Here and now, however, the focus is on the magical trick-work in Dracula. The novel, Dracula, was written by Bram Stoker in 1897. While vampire stories and legends had held forth for centuries. Stoker managed to modernize both the story and the character of the vampire. Enthusiastic readers derived considerable enjoyment from his tale of the aristocratic Dracula on the loose in the British Isles. So positive was the public's response that Stoker, fearing that an unauthorized dramatization of the novel might appear, hastily produced a version of the story for the stage: ... He attempted to protect its dramatic copyright by presenting a reading of his novel at the Royal Lyceum Theatre in London on May 18, 1897. Dracula; or. The Undead was announced only one half hour before playtime and was offered in a prologue and five acts, totaling a wearisome forty-seven scenes. . . . Although Stoker's novel contained enough dramatic scenes to warrant an effective stage production, no one took the chance. Playwrights probably felt that audiences were too sophisticated to accept such supernatural fare. 59 It took twenty-six years before someone took the chance. In 1923 actor-manager Hamilton Deane acquired the sole dramatic rights to Dracula, and his theatrical adaptation of the novel first hit the boards at the Grand Theatre, Derby, England, in June of 1924. "''^^ So successful was the drama in the provinces that Deane eventually risked bringing it to London's West End. It opened at the Little Theatre on February 14, 1927, and was an immediate popular success, albeit not a critical one. Within months, publisher-producer Horace Liveright obtained the rights to stage the play in the United States and hired John L. Balderston to help Deane "streamline" it for American audiences. 108 Bela Lugosi, a virtually unknown, Hungarian-born actor was engaged to perform in the title role. Dracula opened its New York run at the Fulton Theatre on October [5?], 1927."'"^^ The initial Broadway run totaled 261 performances, and several touring productions and revivals followed in later years. The latest professional revival played Broadway in 1977, with Frank Langella as Dracula, scenery by Edward Gorey, and lighting by Roger Morgan. As a minor legacy in the annals of trick-work, Dracula is a weak contender--but a contender nonetheless. Unfortunately, the majority of the effects are run-of-the- mill theatre fare. J. Brooks Atkinson put his finger on part of the problem when he wrote: . . . After three acts of this macabre piece it would be pleasant to feel that the monster were slain for good. . . . When . . . the atmosphere becomes more real than occult, the effect is not so horribly fascinating. One begins to protect one's self against the machinations of the "undead" by watching the stage machinery whirl. Atkinson seems to be saying that the play--and its effects--suffer from being grounded too much in everyday. 60 regular "realness." In that respect the 1977 version may have been stronger, for it was played with a bigger-than- life attitude which may have persuaded the audiences to let themselves be more drawn into a world where all things mysterious can happen. But the 1927 version falls short of that, and as a consequence the magic happens within an atmosphere more likely to evoke skeptical snickering than exclamations of surprise and astonishment. There are exceptions here and there, and they will be pointed out as this discussion proceeds. The Dracula script being used here is the acting edition first published by Samuel French in 1933. "^"^"^ Not only does it contain production notes interspersed throughout the text, but very extensive notes are provided at the end of the play as well. Unfortunately, inquiries to the publisher failed to help identify the author of those notes. They are highly detailed and written in a style which indicates that the writer must have had intimate, working, firsthand knowledge of the technical details. The script lists one Louis Cline as the original 112 "General Manager and Technical Director." It is possible, and even likely, that the notes are his, but this could not be verified. Bat levitation. Occasional howls of wolves having set the tone of the play early on, the first magic-related effect encountered is a levitation: "A large BAT dashes 113 against the window." It, and the bat that appears again 114 near the end of Act Two are effected with a prop bat strung to a fishpole and manipulated by an offstage technician. 115 In two other instances, though, a bat actually flies in through the open window, circles about the set, and exits whence it came. This is accomplished by running a fish line from outside the window, onstage and through a grommeted hole in the center 61 of the ceiling, and on to another point offstage, opposite the window. The prop bat is attached to the line and is basically caught in a gentle "tug of war" between two hidden technicians, each controlling one end of the fishline. By playing the line back and forth, slacker and tauter, the bat is made to appear to fly. 117 A review of Fitzkee's list of levitation methods reveals that in this instance invisible support with "thread" may, indeed, be the best solution for the effect. Nevertheless, even with the best method being used, the "bat-bit" does not live up to its potential. The argument here is that it fails to take advantage of related magical and dramatic principles, the effect thus falling short of expectations. Transformations. An example to support this statement occurs in Act Two where Dracula finds himself forced by Van Helsing to depart: ... DRACULA, livid with rage and snarling, backs out of the window. As DRACULA is just outside the window he spreads his cape like a bat and gives a long satirical laugh as he makes exit. ... A SHOT is heard. VAN HELSING leaps up; rushes to window. BAT circles almost into his face. The scene is obviously intended to suggest the trans­ formation of the vampire into a bat, but instead the actor simply exits dramatically, and the "fishpole bat" is swung into Van Helsing's face. Why not actually stage the transformation instead of only suggesting it? After all, this is a play about a being with supernatural powers. In establishing the atmosphere, in creating the imaginary world which Dracula inhabits, could not an audience be further drawn from the reality of their own world and into the play's if an utterly astonishing transformation effect actually occurred at this point? Would not the interests of both theatrical illusion and magical illusion be better served by doing so? Can it be done, though? Fitzkee says 62 there are at least forty-nine ways of doing a transformation effect. Surely some of those methods could work for this scene. Basically, the actor must be "disposed of" and the bat discovered to have taken his place. A review of Fitzkee's list for transformation methods notes "covering which blends with background," "secret passageway," "secret hiding place—spring lever," "revolving panel," and "object thrown or catapulted." 119 as only a few ways which might be looked into as most likely solutions. Taking a look at only the first of these—"covering which blends with background"--brings to mind the following possibility: suppose the actor stood on a wide ledge, some distance back from the window opening. Suppose misdirection by distraction/disguise were provided by a lighting effect or a small flash pot in the window sill. At the instant of misdirection, in theory (at the very least), a strong spring mechanism could immediately raise or lower a kind of duplicate exterior background in front of the actor, making him disappear. The mechanism would act like a large window shade, abruptly covering the actor as the bat was revealed in the window. The skeptic could find dozens of "holes" in this solution, but he might be surprised to learn that the foregoing description is an approximation of a very real--and very convincing--magic effect being used by stage illusionists the world over. The point of this discussion is neither to fully reveal the workings of that effect nor to solve all the problems resulting from speculation about this method for the scene in Dracula. The point is to hypothesize a staging of the scene which is not too far-fetched in the hope that anyone interested would recognize the validity of this study's thesis. However, lest this hypothetical example be dismissed altogether as too theoretical, it is worthwhile to present a concrete example from Dracula. 63 Just as any "B" grade horror film of the 1960's seemed imcomplete without a secret passageway, so (it seems) felt Deane and Balderston in 1927. As the reader will see, a secret wall panel plays a vital role in effecting a transformation in Act One: . . . VAN HELSING switches off LIGHTS. No move­ ment. . . . Low HOWL is heard . . . followed by a distant BARKING of dogs. FIRELIGHT grows dimmer. DRACULA'S hand appears from back of couch, then his face. LUCY screams. . . . until VAN HELSING switches on LIGHTS. HARKER. Lucy! Lucy! SEWARD. Professor, what is it? (Panel should be opened in wall b okcase after LIGHTS are switched out. DRACULA, who crawls on all fours, comes out of panel in dark, and scampers back into panel when VAN HELSING throws doors open. The panel closes a second before VAN HELSING switches on LIGHTS. The effect here depends on speed of business. . . . They stand just in front of door C. as a BAT flies into the room . . . the second the LIGHTS are on. The production notes describe the stage left panel of the bookcase as swinging offstage on spring hinges, 121 and it is this hidden panel upon which the effect depends. Retracing the moments of the scene as just cited reveals that misdirection by disguise (the hidden panel several feet upstage and slightly center stage of the couch), misdirection by distraction (the scream of Lucy and subsequent commotion), timing, and atmosphere are all used to execute this transformation illusion. Although no critical accounts of this effect could be found, analysis of the scene seems to bear out the conclusion that it contains the requisite elements of good magical illusion. It is reasonable to speculate that the illusion was effective in production. Unfortunately, a bit of business in Act Three may have weakened the effect of the Act One transformation by 64 drawing attention to the idea of a secret panel. In Act Three, the lunatic Renfield escapes from the library when he discovers a sliding panel in the bookcase. 122 This panel stands immediately stage right of the swinging panel described above. Why would the authors risk tipping off a partial solution to the Act One transformation by provoking the notion of a secret panel--any secret panel-- in such a blatant manner? The only conclusion to be reached is that the idea of creating a magical illusion (to the full degree meant in the language of this study) was foreign to them. Had they recognized or cared about the place of real magical illusion in a supernatural drama, the Renfield scene would surely have been written in a different manner. Yet even if the scene as written was kept in the play, the technical problem-solver with a more thorough knowledge of conjuring could have lessened the impact of Act Three's "exposure" by making a single, simple change in the set. If the Renfield panel had been situated across the stage just as far away from the couch as possible, then the possibility of the audience associating a secret panel with the transformation in Act One would have been reduced. In addition, the bookcase upstage of the couch could have been replaced by a fairly plain, obviously ungimmicked wall, and a different method (such as a trap) used for Dracula's secret entrance and exit. As it was, even if the transformation effect's methods assisted in creating a strong impact in Act One, the viewing of a similar panel in Act Three must have reduced that initial impact for some members of the audience. Lighting and misdirection. There is a convention used a number of times in Dracula which offers a perfect opportunity for some discussion of misdirection without having to deal much with the matter of mechanics. That 65 convention is the use of an eerie, green-colored spotlight on Dracula in a number of scenes where he is going about his nefarious activities. The green spot is clearly intended to enhance the atmosphere of the supernatural without using any trick-work effects per se. One such scene reads as follows: SEWARD. (Interrupts impatiently) Never mind that, but I will not have Miss Lucy disturbed. (Exits R. DOGS howl until Dracula speaks.) MAID crosses L.; looks toward window [U.R.], then crosses L. LIGHTS go out. MAID screams. GREEN SPOT comes on DRACULA. He has entered at window up R. while lights are out. When GREEN SPOT comes on he is R.C. MAID screams again as she sees him. The Electrial Plot notes: "No. 1^ Green Spot on (covering R. stage) Count of 6 after black out." 124 Except for one small but crucial flaw in the staging, the scene has the potential of being a fully realized magical effect without relying on a mechanical method in the strict sense. The effect is obtained through misdirection by distraction and disguise. Examine the scene. The maid is alone. Her cross left "leads the eye" away from the appearance location at right center (distraction). The lights black out (disguise). She screams (distraction/disguise). The green spot comes on right center to reveal the Count. Nothing could be simpler. The crucial element here which will truly determine whether the effect is received as a contrived bit of business or a mysterious supernatural illusion is the timing of the light cues. If there is a full six-count between the blackout and the green spot coming on, no one is likely to be fooled in the least. On the other hand, if the lag between cues is momentary and then "imperceptibly, a somber green light focuses stage right" on Dracula, 125 it is more than possible that the 66 audience will really be fooled and the air of the occult will be reinforced. If the latter is the case, true magical illusion will have been created, principally by means of misdirection. Chair animation. Dracula's effects with mist, scrim, curtains and flash boxes are very similar (and the methods identical) to effects done in The Passion of Dracula and Count Dracula. Discussion of these effects will therefore be withheld until the following section. However, the "moving chair" effect from Dracula should be mentioned at this point, as it will offer a comparison with a similar piece of business in Count Dracula. The action opening Act Three is described as follows: . . . DOGS howl until VAN HELSING enters. A count of ten. Curtains move as if someone entering window. Then chair back of desk which is turned up stage moves around, facing front. . . . A few minutes into the scene, "Chair turns back. Curtains flap out." 127 The effect is intended to give the impression that the invisible vampire has slipped into the room to eavesdrop and then slipped out just as surreptitiously. The postscript notes describe the effect working this way: . . . For the trick chair, back of the desk, use a rather large armchair, with legs strong enough so that it may be turned, with an auger-shaped iron [like the ignition crank on a Model T Ford] from beneath the stage, at the cue in Act III. The method of moving the curtains is not mentioned. The entire sequence as described was probably effective enough as that sort of thing goes. But what if there is not access to beneath the stage? In the next section an alternative method for the chair- moving will be discussed. On balance, that method is probably neither better nor worse than the "auger-shaped iron" used here, but the same basic business in Count 67 Dracula is considerably embellished. At a later point this study will show how such embellishment can enhance this kind of business, giving a stronger sense of the supernatural to a play and thus strengthening the magical illusion within the theatrical illusion. The "open vanish." But before leaving Dracula, one final effect must be covered. The effect is the so-called "open vanish" of the mysterious Count, and one critic put it like this: ". . .As the Count ingeniously melted out of the hands of his captors, you might say, 'I wouldn't believe it, not even if it was Houdini.'" 129 The production notes call it "a tremendously effective trick," 130 and Jim Steinmeyer claims that the effect "absolutely dumbfounded audiences. ..." 131 The spectators saw the scene this way: SEWARD. (. . .He looks up at window.) The clouds are coloring. HARKER. God's daybreak. . . . (SEWARD and HARKER step in.) DRACULA. (Coolly. Turns upstage with back to them. . . .) A pleasant task you have set yourself, Mr. Harker. VAN HELSING. Ten seconds. Be ready when he collapses. (SEWARD crosses to hold DRACULA . . . on L. of DRACULA. HARKER holds . . . R. of DRACULA.) HARKER. The sun! The stake. Professor—the stake! Hold him. Doctor. [Dracula emits a "loud burst of mocking laughing" on the word "sun."] SEWARD. I've got him. [Holding him, they struggle to pull Dracula down left. Suddenly the cape drops to the floor and the vampire has vanished.] The magician who invented the effect for Broadway tells how it came about and describes the method used to accomplish it. Guy Jarret's account of the vanish is reproduced here at length, as it contains a wealth of information and much food for thought: 68 The producers of DRACULA called me in four days before the New York opening. . . . The show was weak in the parts where Dracula was to appear or van­ ish. ... The best thing they were doing was to sneak him into the scene, or with a phoney blackout discover him when the lights went up. All very dull stuff. . . . I framed them a vanish. Not a good magic trick, mind you, but a good effect to help the drama [emphasis added]. You couldn't use it in a good magic show with the audience expecting tricks. . . . In some scenes, Dracula wore a long cape. So in the third act, for his vanish, I gave him a cape six inches longer than the regular one, so it just touched the floor. A wire framework sewn into it was shaped to his shoulders and back. [It was hinged to another frame in the hood. When the hood]. . . was thrown up over the head, ... it would hold the form when the head ducked out. On stage was a trap, with a light skip [deck] counterweighted more than the heaviest member of the cast, so anyone could walk on it without sinking. . . . [To avoid the rising sun's rays, he]. . . throws the cape over his head . . . and turns his back to the audience. Two men place their hands under his elbows and on his shoulders to support him. They weave for a step or two, and then, with an upward movement [emphasis added], fold the cape, and Dracula is gone. I have found many people who expressed great wonder at that vanish. It comes unexpectedly, and the drama then proceeds. It is not like doing it in a magic show, . . . where they are challenged to watch. But ... it is better than a lot of junk you o6w• • • • When Dracula, in reeling, turned his back, two men below pulled the skip down with the speed of a drop, a "two-door" ["plug"] closing the opening instantly, allowing the characters to walk over it immediately. ... I hung around the theatre for two whole days, waiting for the director [Ira Hards] to rehearse the vanish and a wonderful appearance I had for them, too. They [directors and producers] always shy away from mechanical stuff, and put it off. They just kept 69 rehearsing the lines up to the time to eat a bite and make-up for the curtain. . . . But I grabbed Bela Lugosi and told him he had to go through the trap. . . . We put him through twice, and it went okay in the play that night. Lugosi worked hungry. Dracula made him. . . . They never came around to rehearse another minute or look at the appearance trick. The enthusiast is left to wonder in frustration what the appearance trick was and how it would have fared. It should be obvious that the effect and the method of the vanish are very sound and deserved the reaction given by the audience. The whole of the business seems too good to tamper with here. Instead, devoting some space to an analysis of Jarret's account ought to prove more valuable to anyone seriously interested. What is most notable in the preceeding story is Jarret's understanding of the place of magic in the drama. His comments certainly reinforce many of the points made in this regard earlier in the study. If his statements about the director and others are to be taken at face value (and there is no reason to think that they should not), the theatre people could have taken a few lessons from Maskelyne and Devant and many other writers cited in this study. The strength of Jarret's effect rests first on his comprehension that the magic should not overpower the drama, but when it is used and "the primary requirements of Drama have been satisfied, all subsidiary details . . . should be dictated by the normal principles of Art in Magic. "•'•^^ Looking at the effect in a more technically detailed fashion confirms that Jarret had a firm grasp of "the normal principles of Art in Magic" as well. First, Dracula's turning away and raising his hood is taken as a normal reaction to his fear of sunlight, and this ploy reveals Jarret's ingenious application of misdirection by 70 disguise. To paraphrase Maskelyne and Devant, innocent and suspicious details are skillfully blended in such a way that the audience has no hint that they are being set up for a magic effect. The wire framework is nicely disguised by the folds of the cape, and Fitzkee's disappearance methods of "subject taken to secret hiding place by means of guided movement, through gravity ..." and "presence of subject simulated by form while subject is disposesd of in secret hiding place" 135 are neatly and ingeniously applied. Misdirection by distraction and simulation are carefully thought through as Jarrett has the actors move left away from the trap while pretending to struggle with the resisting Dracula. And, in the final coup de grace, the actors collapse the cape "with an upward movement," rather than simply dropping it. This small detail uses misdirection by distraction to punctuate the vanish. The eyes of actors and audience are directed upward, in precisely the opposite direction from which the trap work actually took place a moment earlier. All in all, the "open vanish" of Dracula is a fine effect by a master student of magic. Jarrett was perceptive enough to know how it needed to be handled to create a complete magical illusion within the context of the theatrical illusion. Despite a flaw in the performance as noted by Walter B. Gibson, the truth may well be that he created a nearly perfect illusion. With that, Dracula can be left behind, except for one or two sidenotes in the subsequent section of this chapter. While the play may not be considered great theatre, it should surely hold a position in the history of trick- work. It offers some good (as well as some not-so-good) examples of the employment of magical principles to problems encountered in the legitimate theatre. 71 The Passion of Dracula (1977) Count Dracula (1977) The material remaining to be discussed in this chapter is intended to bring the study as up-to-date as possible in its examination of trick-work in the vampire plays. In the interest of brevity, all of the effects in these two plays will by no means be discussed. Instead, this section will focus on effects not previously covered, significant variations on themes already covered, notably successful or unsuccessful efforts in these plays, or any other information significantly related to the thesis of this study. The Passion of Dracula, by Bob Hall and David Richmond, 137 actually beat the 1977 version of Dracula to the New York stage, opening at the Cherry Lane Theatre on September 28, 1977. A month later the curtain was raised on Dracula at the Martin Beck Theatre. Some critics proceeded to make the inevitable comparisons, and Dracula did not always come out on top. Critic Howard Kissel, for instance, stated that "'Passion of Dracula' is more interesting because the play is richer and funnier--also the special effects are more dazzling." 138 Particularly notable was a rather shocking and spectacular bat effect. It will be discussed in the following pages. Count Dracula, by Ted Tiller, was first presented at Stage West in West Springfield, Massachusetts, on December 1 qq 10, 1971. It appeared again at the George Street Playhouse Professional Theatre, New Brunswick, New Jersey, in the winter of 1976."^^^ Coming on the heels of the 1977 season's craze for vampire plays, it opened at the Equity Library Theatre in February of 1978. The latter production was cited for its special effects where "the 141 most fantastic of happenings ... do happen." While neither Count Dracula nor The Passion of Dracula had 72 nearly the exposure of 1977's Dracula on Broadway, they are both dramatically serviceable works which contain some interesting effects worth discussing. For the sake of simplicity the two plays will hereafter usually be referred to as Passion and Count. Sound for atmosphere. The first technical element noted in both of these plays is the sound. As in Dracula, wolf howls and dog barking are utilized to establish much of the atmosphere. The howling in Dracula is created by offstage actors howling through glass oil lamp chimneys. It never seems to build dramatically and is seldom used after Act One. Passion and Count, however, seem to use sound as a tool to build the dramatic tension and punctuate the atmosphere with all things disturbing. Not appearing in the Dracula script are such descriptions as a "piercing wolf howl" 142 turning to distant howls then back to nearly jolting ones; or sounds of "howling up to a crescendo." 143 It is the same where other sounds are concerned. The '70s' vampire plays simply seem to recognize the potential of sound more than Dracula does. For example, in Passion much is made of wind sounds, especially when the outside doors are flung open--as happens quite frequently; and there are sounds (with lighting effects) 144 of "amazing lightning and . . . terrific thunderclaps." Though these may seem trite and a spectator might feel as if he were viewing a Hammer Studios horror film of the 1960s, it is easy to imagine the impact on an audience when the sounds seem "right on top" of them. This assumes that the sound effects are quality ones requiring a certain degree of familiarity with contemporary equipment. The 1977 Passion undoubtedly had such, as the script calls for the use of a reverb machine for several eerie voice- over speeches by Dracula. Of the three twentieth century 73 scripts. The Passion of Dracula definitely appears to be the least inhibited in its use of sound for atmosphere. Count Dracula is a somewhat distant second, and Dracula comes up in the rear of the pack. Fog. The other tried-but-true piece of atmospheric technical work used in all three plays is the use of fog or mist. In Deane's play it is only used at the end of Act Two. "When this effect is worked right," the notes 1 45 say, "there is a buzz throughout the entire audience." One can only wonder if the "buzz" is the result of the eerie effect or because the mist formula "is simply three bottles--one of muriatic acid, one of rose-water and one of ammonia." 146 Considering the mixture, it is obvious why the effect only occurs once--and at a time calculated to see the ringing down of the act curtain in short order. This way, of course, it is primarily only the actors who must suffer. The act curtain preserves the audience, at least, from further nasal offense! The notes in Count acknowledge chemical fog's pungency and caution the technician to use it in a controlled manner. Similar to Dracula, however, the chemical fog is reserved for use only at the ends of acts. On the other end of the spectrum is Passion. It uses fog for nearly continuous effect, "what with voluminous puffs of dry ice vapors swirling across the floor of the Edwardian study whenever the French windows fly open to the night." Anyone acquainted with both types of fog knows that dry ice, despite certain shortcomings, is the less offensive method where peoples' nostrils are concerned. The dry ice approach is definitely the one to use in Passion, but not only because it is less obnoxious; the fog in Passion is a principle element in appearance and disappearance effects used throughout the show. 74 Appearances. Several times in Passion, Dracula makes his entrance or exit by way of the fog outside the study. He is always described as "appearing" or "vanishing" in the fog, not "coming" or "going" through it; magical effects, in other words. Was mechanical apparatus involved in creating those effects in 1977? No information was found on this account. But even if some sort of mechanical method was used in 1977, it is not necessary. The only "apparatus" that need be involved is the dry ice fog and the stage lights. Used properly, these two elements create a striking effect using misdirection by disguise. The appearances and disappearances in Dracula that rely on a comparatively contrived blackout to effect the vampire's coming-and-going tricks pale by comparison to the effects in Passion. The misdirection by disguise, as the Dracula blackouts could loosely be termed, does not measure up to that of Passion because the misdirection in the latter creates the impression that Dracula materializes and dematerializes in full view. The method is utterly simple: a variation on the scrim or gauze principle is at work. The fog reacts to light in much the same manner as scrim. When the mist is lighted on any side related to the vantage points of the audience, the vapor becomes virtually opaque by reflecting the light. Thus, with wind sounds, the French doors bursting open, and thunder and lightning effects, the scene is set for the appearance or vanish. Amid all of this commotion a subtle shifting of the lights outside occurs. For all anyone knows, Dracula could have been standing in the fog all the time; but the light shift turns the fog "transparent" (similar to a scrim effect), and the vampire appears. Nothing could be simpler than this basic application of an "optical projection" method. 75 The results can be quite astonishing, and, given the further atmospheric embellishment by the various other lighting and sound effects, a genuine magical illusion can be achieved quite easily. Critic Howard Kissel made the point as well as it can be put: . . . People have rediscovered the sheer fun of special effects in the theatre—no matter how dazzling special effects are on the silver screen, nothing takes your breath away quite as much as magic performed before your very eyes, when you know there's no opportunity for a second "take." Fitzkee put to use. Probably the actual fog appearances were truly as magical as they seem when reading the script. For the sake of argument, however, let it be supposed that the method as described above is not as "clean" as is assumed. It might be imagined, for example, that a trial run disclosed that the fog did not become as opaque as necessary; or that the director wanted the appearance to happen in more dusk-like light; or that another actor was supposed to be seen crossing upstage in the fog, thus requiring Dracula's appearance further downstage to be effected in the midst of a fog lighted more for translucency than for opacity. Many other hypothetical examples can be created. Irregardless of the number of examples, the technician is faced with a new set of circumstances that must be taken into account as he searches for a good solution. He needs a good method to accomplish the effect. This is the perfect opportunity to put the Fitzkee system to the test. Using the Appendix list of appearance methods, this fabled technician can be followed through the process of applying Fitzkee to the problem at hand. The first example: the fog does not have enough opacity. Starting at the top of the methods list, the thinking might go like this: "Number one: if attention is 76 diverted so he can come from a secret hiding place, the magic of thinking he is appearing before one's eyes will lose impact. Weak. . . . Number seven: could he be brought into view quickly through guided movement—a sort of reverse of the 'open vanish' in Dracula? A possibility. However, would the density [weight] of the vapor make it leak down the trap opening? After all, dry ice fog falls rather quickly. Number eight: a revolving panel to bring him into view? What kind of panel? One in a 'garden wall' piece of scenery? Possible, but if the fog is not that opaque the panel must revolve very rapidly. Number nine: would the same 'garden wall' have a built-in hiding place so he just steps out? Seems questionable because of speed." Continuing right on with the list, but using the problem where more dusk-like light is used, the analysis proceeds: "Number ten: nothing comes to mind. After all, the appearance will happen in brighter light now. Number eleven: the mirror principle! If Professor Pepper could make a 'living' transparent ghost appear onstage with the crude lighting capabilities available in 1863, 149 surely Dracula could be hidden behind a mirror or glass today and the light controlled to make it invisible. A very intriguing possibility! Number twelve: could a 'shell object' be a half-round bush or fountain statue? A possibility." And if the problem to solve were the third example given, where the audience must see another actor upstage of the point of appearance, the analysis might continue: "Number sixteen: swing a flap or remove a cover from in front of Dracula? How can a covered person be between the viewer and the upstage actor without being seen? What other methods does the list offer? . . . Number nineteen: production by optical projection. Could Pepper's 77 'Metempsychosis' reflection/projection principle 150 be used? Some possible difficulties, to say nothing of expense, but this idea should not be abandoned altogether . . . . Number twenty-three: could he be disguised as something else, then remove the disguise? ..." Obviously, the previous paragraphs are extremely abbreviated compared to the way an actual analysis would go. In considering any method for any example above, the analysis only proceeded one or two steps in the problem- solving process. It should be apparent that the whole process of considering a proposed method's ramifications would, step by step, lead to more and more concrete considerations and judgements. The point here is to show how the system could be used by the technician. Fitzkee's lists for analysis do not necessarily solve the problems. Rather, they are an organized aid--a guide--to solving them. Anyone familiar with staging and technical theatre should be able to recognize from the hypothetical analysis above that real, available solutions can be found by being guided by the Fitzkee system. The best proof of the value of this approach comes by asking this question: "Without the list to pinpoint all forty-eight possible methods to solve the hypothetical problems, could a technician have come up with that many possible solutions on his own? Even then, would he see all of the best solutions himself without using the system?" Obviously, the technician is the only one who can honestly answer these questions. As to the mention of Professor Pepper's illusion effects above, anyone interested in them would be urged to research the mirror principle on his own. The methods for those illusions are valuable to the technician for trick- work problem-solving. 78 Hand-sized magic. Count Dracula contains two scenes in which actual, "store-bought magic tricks" are used to bolster the illusion of the vampire's supernatural powers. These "parlor tricks," as they are termed in magic catalogues, occur in the first and second acts of the play. In Act One, "Dracula . . . magically produces a cigarette with its top literally flaming, . . . blows flame out, puts cigarette to his lips and begins 151 smoking." In Act Two, "apparently from thin air, he produces a long chiffon scarf Mina wore at the end of Act One. . . . Once more he causes a flaming cigarette to appear from nowhere. ..." Moments later, "he puts burning cigarette into his loosely closed hand as though extinguishing it. When he opens the hand, the cigarette has vanished. "•'•^^ The cigarette production method is explained in the production notes so that the technician could make his own apparatus with a safety match, flash paper (a quick- burning paper), and a hidden match striker. 153 The notes contain very thorough instructions for the performance of the effect, and they clearly illustrate that the writer of the instructions was consciously aware of the need for misdirection. The basic set-up is that the performer is in reality lighting a match. The match just happens to be hidden in the end of a cigarette, impaling a piece of flash (quick burning) paper. The cigarette is palmed (hidden) in one hand; the match striker taped in the other palm. The reason that such a straightforward operation could literally seem magical, however, is due to the way it is performed, as explained in the production notes: . . . [He] quickly brings cigarette (match hand) down across abrasive paper in left palm and continues the circular motion of his right hand by moving it sidewise to his right and then high over his head. . . . He must not look up until cigarette is 79 above head [emphasis added]. If the whole movement is done rapidly, the Flash Paper will not ignite till cigarette is elevated. The dialogue which motivates this effect is, frankly, rather contrived, but the performance instructions are, nevertheless, careful to observe the requisite principles of conjuring to produce a genuinely magical effect. Since Dracula is supposed to be anything but a normal being, the task of the theatrical illusion is to make it reasonable that he can do supernatural things, such as this cigarette production. Given that, it is up to the director, the actor, and the technician to work in unison. Utilizing a working knowledge of conjuring principles and methods, theirs is the job of creating the complete magical illusion. If all the implications of this precept are not observed, it could become a straightforward "magic trick" which threatens to destroy the theatrical illusion which the audience has willingly allowed to be established. Certainly that is the case when the cigarette production is repeated in Act Two. The production should work once if magic principles have been observed. Doing it a second time, however, might well elicit snickering instead of surprise. That is the situation with the vanish of the cigarette as noted above. Even at the level of contrivance used to motivate the cigarette appearance, the disappearance seems to be, dramatically, just too much. The vanish (and, perhaps, the scarf appearance as well) is done with magic store apparatus, and there is not even the thinnest of dramatically sound reasons to have it in the play. The point is that the cigarette vanish is more a trick for trick's sake. No valid reason whatsoever is seen for having it in the play. When an effect ends up being done for virtually its own sake it will do more harm 80 than good. Magic or magical trick-work must always be staged within the context of the drama at hand, and if the tie between the story and the effect is lost the drama is threatened. It is better to dispense with the magic than to risk destroying the play. Scrim effect. Earlier, the scrim principle was mentioned in regard to the fog appearances. An actual scrim effect is used in Count Dracula, and it virtually replicates an effect in Dracula. The scrim principle is clear by now, so there is no need to reiterate. But this very old effect should be noted, as the magical effect of Dracula's face appearing through a "solid" wall is as good a piece of theatre today as it was in 1977, or 1927, or in the nineteenth century, for that matter. Even though most audiences today often have at least a passing acquaintance with scrim effects, it seems that whenever it is properly done it is well-received. It is not strictly a magic effect, but it certainly can create a feeling of the magical. For this reason it should never be dismissed out of hand. Disappearance. Another effect similar to one in Dracula is a "semi-open" vanish in Count. Unfortunately, it suffers by comparison to Jarret's invention. The costume plot's description of the gimmicked cape is identical to Jarret's except that weights are sewn into the bottom hem to prevent it from flapping during the struggle. 155 The reason the vanish is not as baffling as the one in Deane's play is because Dracula's secret exit is in the wall, not the floor. Therefore, it cannot possibly be made to seem as "out in the open" as the trap method. But even given that there might not be a floor trap available, the production personnel for the 1977 production could have arranged the stage so as to create the greatest sense of openness possible. Instead, as seen 81 in the ground plan, 156 the secret escape door was far up right behind a sofa and a low stairs. From this perspective it would seem that the most inept magician could vanish an elephant, much less a man. When Dracula disappears and he is behind all of those visual obstructions, suspicion must arise—precisely counter to an important principle of magic. Unless he seems to be struggling with his foes in the open, the burden of effecting the vanish depends entirely on the strength of the other two actors' ability to produce picture-perfect misdirection by simulation with the empty, wire-form cape. It would be better to improve the odds by arranging for a less suspicious area in which the effect is to occur. There is, however, another aspect of Count's staging which is better than the similar scene in Dracula. Earlier, the latter play's staging of the Renfield "secret panel" scene was criticized for indirectly arousing suspicion about the secret escape panel by putting it adjacent to the Renfield panel. A hypothetical solution was suggested there: to locate the two panels as far toward opposite sides of the stage as possible. This, according the ground plan, 157 was done in the 1977 production of Count Dracula. The "secret panel" which Renfield discovers was placed far down left in clear view of the audience and as far away from the truly secret panel as possible. It is presumed that that arrangement was more effective than Dracula's in not inviting more suspicion about the vampire's secret means of disappearance. Chair animation. One of the bits of business in both Dracula and Count which could really cause a "buzz" in the audience is that of the moving chair. The method for the effect in Deane's play was covered previously. The first part of the effect in Count Dracula is nearly the same: 82 the window curtains move slightly, then the desk chair turns as if an invisible presence were sitting down in it. The curtains, of course, are moved by offstage strings. Instead of an auger-shaped handle moving the chair from below, the chair in Count is rigged to a floor-mounted pivot and controlled by pulling wires running offstage under the ground cloth—a good variation of method to meet the physical situation in a different theatre. The comparison ends there, however, and Dracula fails to impress further. Count makes everything possible of the business. First of all, after the curtains move, a green follow spot with a "blind" to create a rectangular spot "to represent a man's height and width" fades in at the windows. It proceeds to the desk chair where the moving chair bit is performed, the spot irising down to represent the vampire sitting, as well as to prevent spill on the desk. Following this, the invisible vampire "rises," the chair moves again, and the follow spot proceeds to the sofa. He "sits," and the sofa cushion sinks with the aid of specially rigged wires controlled from offstage. He "rises," the cushion wire is slackened (the cushion rising), and the follow spot "figure" proceeds to exit off right. "^^^ The scene is reminiscent of the 1950s' "Invisible Man" films, and no doubt it would be an interesting sequence to stage before a live audience. Perhaps it is a matter of personal taste, but the sequence in Count Dracula, well-timed and well-executed, would seem to be more interesting than the short bit in Dracula, going further with the idea and thus helping more to maintain the atmosphere in which magical illusion can happen. "Staking" effect. The end of all three Dracula plays comes with the traditional "staking" of the vampire 83 through the heart. In Dracula, a tiny green spot of light illuminates the face of the vampire lying in his coffin. The protagonists proceed to stake him, the audience hearing a dull thud as the stake is driven into a box filled with sand and sawdust. The only problem here is a dramatic one: Act Three, scene one, while brief, never shows an enervated Dracula. He lies in the coffin and accepts the stake without a word--because "he" is a dummy! 159 The 1977 version, however, was said to have a 1 c.r\ "powerful bone-shaking ending," "providing one delicious moment of shock." Presumably the 1977 audiences were offered something more theatrically unappetizing than the staking of a lifeless dummy. Count Dracula's staking also sees the vampire (breathing, this time) sent to his rest writhing in his coffin. The method of staking is poor, with the stake simply being "inserted" between the chest and upstage arm of the reclining actor. Weird psychedelic lighting and 1 fi7 sound effects are called for in the scene, but they cannot begin to fix the basic problem of the very unconvincing effect. Gore, with conviction, is left to The Passion of Dracula. The staking of the vampire does not seem as calculated and trite as in the other two plays. The action remains in the study, rather than moving to a crypt cum coffin. Dracula rushes toward Willy who impales him with the stake. Van Helsing drags Dracula to the chaise, produces a mallet, and drives the "collapsible stake with attached blood bag""'"^'^ home for good. Surely this method is the best of the three, with Douglas Watt commenting: . . . The final driving of the stake through his heart—the good doctor's mallet sinking the bloodied thing deeper and deeper as the evil count lies supine in a chaise lounge—is a splendidly gory sight, indeed. 84 Here are three plays with three varied methods for the effect. Are there alternative methods that are as good or better than the one in Passion? Fitzkee might help the technician to find out. Bat levitation. The final effect to be discussed in connection with Passion and Count has to do with bats. Other bat effects in both plays resemble those in Dracula, both in appearance and in method. However, Act Two of Count Dracula concludes as "a LARGE BLACK BAT sails in through the window and flies directly downstage. . . . BAT FLIES OUT OVER THE AUDIENCE and disappears. . . ."^^^ That last part of the effect would surely be quite a shocking surprise to an audience. The use of a deep sea fishing reel to pull the bat along a fishing line track takes the bat effect in Count one step further than in Dracula, and it carries more impact. Also worthy of note is the explanation of how to rig the bat when a guillotine (up-and-down) type of act curtain is used. Unlike the traveler curtain which allows the pre-rigged fish line to pass between its two halves at center stage, the guillotine curtain forces the technician to use another variation on the method. The solution is ingeniously simple, and even more appealing to the magic aficionado. It utilizes more mechanisms of magic and therefore makes it more difficult to see through to the secret. Essentially, two bats are used: Bat #[1] flies only from beyond window to above actors onstage, then swoops up to disappear behind top of false inner proscenium. Bat is reeled in by crew man on specially constructed catwalk above false proscenium or from above stage in fly gallery. Immediately after Bat #[1] vanishes above false proscenium, duplicate prop bat #[2] is released from audience by crew man out front. Thus no bat track line is between real and false proscenium for curtain's descent. 85 An added touch, usable with either method, involves disposing of the evidence immediately following the effect: During intermission bat's track line [which goes to rear of auditorium] is detached backstage, [or at proscenium], dropped and then slid along floor . . . to extreme Down Right. Wind track line so that it will not tangle and hoist it at Right edge of front curtain to its former height. Then hang wound up track line inside Right proscenium in front of house curtain. Indeed, nothing could be simpler. Yet of the twenty-nine mechanisms listed by Fitzkee which can definitely be used to accomplish physical magic effects in the theatre, the bat effect in Count Dracula uses no fewer than thirteen in connection with some part of the illusion. The end of Act Two in The Passion of Dracula uses the same fishing line track device as in Count Dracula. Passion may not use as much conjuring ingenuity as the two-bat version in Count, but its bat effect reads like the "granddaddy" of them all, to use the vernacular. Act Two, final scene: DRACULA. Yours is the wisdom of a petty lifetime, mine is the work of centuries. (He crosses up to the French doors.) I shall return to claim my bride . . . and when I do, not one of you shall 'scape my wrath. . . .(Having backed out onto the terrace, he flings up both arms and a tremendous wind fills the stage. There is a blackout, a strobe, an explosion; DRACULA disappears and a glowing, giant bat swoops from the stage out over the audience. END ACT TWO. One critic wrote this reaction: "Somebody has devised a marvelous white bat that flashes out among the audience at one particularly vulnerable moment. 169 And T. E. Kalem, reporting in Time, said: 86 On the tiny stage of Greenwich Village's Cherry Lane Theater, it is, of course, impossible to duplicate Broadway scenic effects, but there is one maleficently phosphorescent white bat in The Passion of Dracula that seems capable of physically whisking a startled playgoer out of his seat. Reviewing the scene and the descriptions of the bat effect, the reactions of anyone in the theatre might be imagined. It is a magic effect (levitation), true enough. But it is only one small element in a sequence of magic, trick-work and pure, unadulterated theatre. The cumulative result is magical illusion within an escapist theatrical illusion at its best. Who could ask for more? CHAPTER VI CONCLUSION: MAGIC FOR THE THEATRE

Any play which calls for magical or supernatural effects to take place on the stage presents unique challenges to all involved. The actors and director are challenged to create and maintain an acceptable theatrical illusion in the context of a tale whose basic premise and subsequent events are anything but pedestrian. The audience is challenged to suspend disbelief enough to allow not one, but two levels of unreality to exist and function as real during the drama. The technician's challenge is to devise mechanical means whereby the magical effects are convincing enough not only to stand on their own, but also to support the overall drama. The early chapters of this study examined the nature of illusion in the theatre and in magic, and the results of that examination revealed that both arts have much in common. In the final analysis, the chief difference between the two may only be the degree to which an audience is asked to accept unrealities as real. The burden of creating a hospitable climate to nurture that willingness rests, of course, on the shoulders of the theatre practitioners. To meet that responsibility, they must understand and apply not only the principles of their own craft, but those of conjuring as well. To that end, this study has presented the contention of Maskelyne and Devant that the magic must always be secondary to the drama, but that when the time comes for something magical to happen it must be magical. The goal of a magical effect in the theatre must be the same as the

87 88 goal of an effect in a magic performance. Where overall performance is concerned, the attainment of this goal rests fundamentally in the knowledge and studied application of misdirection by distraction, disguise, and simulation. The practiced theatrician, already having a working knowledge of audience psychology within his own realm, must study the psychological principles at work in successful magic performances. If he is willing to do this, it will not be long before he realizes just how closely related they are to principles with which he is already well-acquainted. By then applying the specific psychological principles of misdirection to the staging of the particular effects in the play, he will be well on his way to creating successful magical illusion within the context of the drama overall. Although the performers and the director are certainly involved in the doing of the effects before an audience--and it is therefore imperative that they be as educated as anyone in all of the principles of magic that are operative in the effects—it is chiefly the responsibility of the theatre technician to devise the physical, mechanical methods of accomplishing those effects. He is not limited to the same apparatus as that employed in magic; indeed, it would be a mistake to overlook the tools of his own trade to solve the effects problems. However, if he looks only to answers within his own area, he might not solve the problems as well as he could if he were also to use the principles of magic. Fitzkee, with little doubt, is correct when he states that there are only forty-eight theoretical "appearance" methods. The theatre technician is probably limited to the very same forty-eight when trying to solve a magical appearance problem in Dracula, for instance. If that is true, the technician should be eager to embrace the 89 Fitzkee system of problem-solving, for it can serve as a most useful "ready reference" when faced with devising a solution to an effects problem. The rationale for these contentions is as follows: it is Fitzkee's assertion that there are probably only nineteen basic effects in all of magic. If that is so, then there are only nineteen basic magical effects that are possible in a play. He argues that there are only fifty-four theoretical mechanisms in all of magic. (That is, in the general sense, he has been able to identify only fifty-four basic ways to accomplish any or all of the nineteen basic effects.) If his conclusion is accurate, then any effect in the theatre also has only a maximum of fifty-four mechanisms which might be used to accomplish it. Therefore, the technician, like the magician, has a finite number of theoretical ways to solve any given trick-work problem. He may have more actual mechanical ways than the magician to accomplish the effect, but they still are only variations on the fifty-four mechanisms identified by Fitzkee. Will the theatre technician's own intelligence, experience and creativity suffice to make him realize every one of the avenues which should be explored in pursuit of a problem's solution? Hopefully this study has been persuasive enough to convince the technician that the answer is a resounding "no." No theatre texts of any sort provide such thorough lists of different directions to explore for solutions to trick-work problems. The areas which are normally discussed in theatre texts are not analyzed in such a highly organized format as Fitzkee uses to attack a problem. The most creative and intelligent technician in the theatre probably can not consciously recognize every one of the potential routes to a solution, but he can use Fitzkee. 90 This writer will be the first to admit that the language in The Trick Brain (or at least the language in the portions reproduced in this study) seems somewhat abstruse at first reading. However, once a reader overcomes that minor hurdle and becomes more comfortable with the language, the advantages of resorting to assistance from Fitzkee quickly become self-evident. The second half of this study has illustrated this many times in the course of discussing the vampire plays. Various approaches have been taken to show how a technician can use Fitzkee—everything from showing how the book can help the technician find a single, workable solution, to suggesting the book's usefulness in evaluating the relative effectiveness of a number of solutions, to assessing the relative success of various effects in historical models such as the vampire plays. However, Fitzkee is only one resource from the world of magic which can be used to improve the chances of devising baffling trick-work for the theatre. Our Magic and Magic and Showmanship have much to offer the theatre person interested in discovering more about the principles, techniques, and mechanical methods of his close "cousin, " the magician. Once served with that proper introduction to legerdemain, there are countless other magic books whereby the theatre worker can gain additional, useful knowledge. It has been the principle contention of this study that a knowledge of magic's methods can be invaluable in helping the technician in the theatre to solve trick-work problems. By now, however, it should be obvious that a knowledge of conjuring can benefit any worker in the theatre who is somehow involved in the staging of magical effects. The actor or director who avails himself of the insight to be gained from a study of magic will be 91 rewarded as much as the technician. The question is not whether a magical effect's success is the responsibility of the performer or the mechanic; rather, the question is whether or not the principles of magic are understood and properly applied. If they are, then any magical effect in the theatre will be well on its way to success. Magic is not the exclusive domain of those behind the scenes. It is there for anyone interested in the art of illusion. The theatrical illusion is an artificial world which the audience allows itself to accept. The magical illusion is a half-believed sense of conviction by the audience that they have seen something that is impossible. The realm of drama that is occupied by the vampire plays and others of their kind is a world that demands the magical. Whenever creativity, skill, and attention to the needs of both theatrical illusion and magical illusion are in evidence in their production, these plays will never go too far astray. They will create for the audience a satisfying experience in the theatre—and a magical one, as well. ENDNOTES

Oscar G. Brockett, History of the Theatre (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1968), pp. 106-107. 2 Richard Southern, "Trick-Work in the English Nineteenth Century Theatre," Life and Letters Today 21 (May 1939): 94-101. 3 Charles Joseph Pecor, "The Magician on the American Stage, 1752-1874" (Ph.D. dissertation. University of Georgia, 1978), p. 411. ^Ibid., p. 239. 5 Martin V. Riccardo, Vampires Unearthed (New York: Garland Publishing, 1983), pp. 62-63. Dion Boucicault, The Phantom: A Drama, in Two Acts (New York: Samuel French, 1856; New York: New York Public Library microfilm, NCOF; prompter's copy, signed "George Becks"). 7 Richard Eder, "Theatre: 'Dracula', Elegant But Bloodless, on Broadway," New York Times, 21 October 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews 38 (1977): 166. p Montague Summers, The Vampire, His Kith and Kin (London: Kegan, Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1928), p. 306. ^Ibid., p. 337. "'"Susan McCosker, "Representative Performances of Stage Magic, 1650-1900" (Ph.D. dissertation. New York University, 1982). •'"Lee Mitchell, "Elizabethan Scenes of Violence and the Problem of Their Staging" (Ph.D. dissertation. Northwestern University, 1941). 12 Robert Ivan Schneideman, "Elizabethan Legerdemain and Its Employment in the Drama" (Ph.D. dissertation. Northwestern University, 1956).

92 93 13 Kenneth M. Cameron and Theodore J.C. Hoffman, The Theatrical Response (London: The Macmillan Co., 1969), p. 11. •'•^Ibid. 15 Bernard Beckerman, The Dynamics of Drama (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1970), p. 133. Mordecai Gorelik, New Theatres for Old (New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., 1962), p.27. 17 Richard Southern, The Seven Ages of the Theatre (London: Faber & Faber, 1962), pp. 253-264. 18 Cameron, Theatrical Response, p. 11. 19 Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, 1963 ed., S.v. "illusion." ^^Ibid., S.v. "mock," "mimic," "copy." 21 Allardyce Nicoll, The Theory of Drama, new ed., rev. (London: George G. Harrap & Co., 1931; reissue. New York: Benjamin Blom, 1966), p.35, citing Coleridge. 22 Cameron, Theatrical Response, p.11. John Dolman, Jr. and Richard K. Knaub, The Art of PaaProduction (New York: Harper & Row, 1973), p. 48. ^^Ibid., p.49. ^^Gilmor Brown and Alice Garwood, General Principles of Play Direction (New York: Samuel French, 1936), p. 137. ^^Brian Hansen, Theatre: The Dynamics of the Art (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1986), p. 5. ^^Nicoll, Theory of Drama, p. 35, quoting Coleridge, "The Progress of Drama" (1918), in Literary Remains (1836-39). 28 Nicoll, Theory of Drama, p. 35. 29 Hansen, Theatre, p. 17. 30 Dolman, Art of Play Production, pp. 154-155. ^•""Ibid., pp.156-157. 94 32 Cameron, Theatrical Response, p. 303. 33 Dolman, Art of Play Production, p. 157. 34 David Welker, Theatrical Direction: The Basic Techniques (Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1971), p. 107. 35 August W. Staub, Creating Theatre: The Art of Theatrical Directing (New York: Harper & Row, 1973), p. 194. Brown, General Principles, p. 19. 37 Dolman, Art of Play Production, p. 165. 38 Staub, Creating Theatre, p. 219. 39 Dennis Smith, Excursion Fare (New York: Samuel French, 1985), act II, p. 92, lines 18-20. 40 John Mulholland, John Mulholland's Book of Magic (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1963), pp. 3-4. 41 Henry Hay, The Amateur Magician's Handbook, 3rd ed. (New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co., New American Library, 1972), p. 4. ^ Ibid., p. 2. ^^Ibid., p. 3. 44 Jason Randal, The Psychology of Deception (Why Magic Works) (Venice, CA: Top Secret Productions, 1982), p. 91. Nevil Maskelyne and David Devant, Our Magic, 2nd ed. (Berkeley Heights, NJ: Fleming Book Co., 1946), p. 117. ^^Ibid., p. 118. ^"^Ibid., p. 119. 48 Blackstone Magic Show (New York: Columbia Artists Management, 1978), p. 11 [?]. The title of the 1979 routine appears in a souvenir program obtained during Blackstone, Jr.'s road tour. The account of the routine is the writer's own, as witnessed in May, 1979. 49 Maskelyne, Our Magic, pp. 119-120. 95 ^°Ibid., pp. 120-121. ^•'"Ibid., p. 123. 52 Distraction and disguise, while also used to help accomplish "the pass," purposely have not been mentioned. The description is intended to focus on the use of simulation, and sufficient discussion of distraction and disguise has taken place earlier. 53 Maskelyne, Our Magic, p. 123. ^^Ibid., p. 113. 55 Dariel Fitzroy [Dariel Fitzkee], The Trick Brain (Oakland, CA: Magic Limited, 1976), pp.25, 28. ^^Ibid., p. 25. ^^Ibid., pp. 310-311. 58 Robert Corrigan, The World of the Theatre (Glenview, IL: Scott, Foresman & Co., 1979), p. 73. 59 Henning Nelms, Magic and Showmanship; A Handbook for Conjurors (New York: Dover Pubications, 1969), p. 133. W. David Sievers, Directing for the Theatre, 2nd ed. (Dubuque, lA: Wm. C. Brown Co., 1965), pp. 105-116. Nelms, Magic and Showmanship, pp. 178-195. 62 Dolman, Art of Play Production, p. 163. /TO Pecor, "Magician on the American Stage." Several examples of this will be cited in due course. However, as the objective of this study is not to establish whether the methodology of magic was adapted from theatre or the other way around, the reader is asked to allow the statement above (as well as examples to be given later) to stand on its own. Although the mutual influences of theatre and magic upon each other would be an interesting area of investigation, the purpose of this study is considerably different, and the writer asks that this allowance be made. 65 See Appendix for a detailed example of Fitzkee's approach to the invention of an effect. A study of the appendix will help the reader to understand how Fitzkee's 96 system will be used in the problem-solving examples given in the following chapter. Maskelyne, Our Magic, pp. 60, 62. ^"^Ibid., pp. 60-61. ^^Ibid., pp. 62-63. 69 Nelms, Magic and Showmanship, p. 133. 70 James B. Twitchell, The Living Dead; A Study of the Vampire in Romantic Literature (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1981), pp. 112-113. 71 Summers, Vampire, Kith and Kin, p. 291. *^^Ibid., p. 293. 73 George Rowel1, The Victorian Theatre, A Survey (London: Oxford University Press, 1956), p. 45. 74Cleo n Vernon Bennett, "James Robinson Planche/: Victorian Craftsman" (Ph.D. dissertation. University of Wisconsin - Madison, 1971), p. 91. 75 / James Robinson Planche, Recollections and Reflections, rev. (London: Sampson Low, Martston, 1901; reprint. New York: DaCapo Press, 1978), pp. 26-27. Idem, The Vampire; or. The Bride of the Isles (Baltimore: J. Robinson [?], 1820; New York: New York Public Library microfilm, NCOF; prompter's copy, signed "John B. Wright, 1843"), p. 3. Hereafter footnoted as "Wright." Rowell, Victorian Theatre, p. 45. ^®James Robinson PlanchI, The Vampire; or. The Bride of the Isles (London: John Cumberland, [n.d.]; New York: New York Public Library microfilm, NCOF p.v. 172; prompter's copy, signed "Samuel D. Jones, 16 March 42"), p. 2 [?]. Hereafter footnoted as "Jones." 7Q Idem, The Vampire; or. The Bride of the Isles, in Michael Kilgariff, The Golden Age of Melodrama (London: Wolfe Publishing, 1974), pp. 64-88. ^°"Wright," p. 5. 97 81 Ibid., p. 5 interleaf. In the following passages the prompters' notes appear in quotation marks and their interpolation into the text of the script is indicated by enclosing them in dashes. ®^"Jones," p. 13. QO °'^"Wright," p. 5 interleaf. 84 Ibid., p. 9 interleaf. "Jones," p. 16. ®^"Wright," p. 9. 87 Ibid., p. 9 interleaf. ®®Ibid., pp. 5-9. QQ Ibid., p. 9 interleaf. ^^"Jones," p. 16. 91 Nelms, Magic and Showmanship, p. 28. 92 William Hazlitt, Criticisms and Dramatic Essays of the English Stage (London: G. Routledge, 1851), pp. 138- 139. 93 / Planche, Recollections, p. 159. Q4 Percy Fitzgerald, The World Behind the Scenes (London: n.p., 1881; reprint. New York: Benjamin Blom, 1972), p. 90. ^^Fitzkee, The Trick Brain, p. 276. ^^Ibid. Q7 W.J. Lawrence, "Some Stage Effects: Their Growth and History," The Gentleman's Magazine 265 (July-December 1888): 92. QQ Charles R. Paul, "An Annotated Translation: Theatrical Machinery: Stage Scenery and Devices by George Moynet" (Ph.D. dissertation. University of Southern California, 1970), p. 337. ^^"Jones," p. 33. 100"Wright," p. 47. 98 101 Southern, "Trick-Work," p. 98. 102 J.P. Moynet, French Theatrical Production in the Nineteenth Century, translated and augmented by Allan S. Jackson and M. Glen Wilson, Marvin A. Carlson, ed. (Binghamton, NY: State University of New York, 1976), pp. 37, 39. 103 Fitzgerald, Behind the Scenes, pp. 55-56. 104^, ., r-o Ibid., p. 58. 105 Alfred Emmet, "The Vampire Trap," Theatre Notebook 34:3 (1980), pp. 128-129. Arthur Lennig, The Count: The Life and Films of Bela 'Dracula' Lugosi (New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1974), pp. 63-64. 107 Daniel Farson. The Man Who Wrote Dracula (London: Michael Joseph, 1975), p. 165. 108 Harry Ludlam, A Biography of Dracula; the Life Story of Bram Stoker (London: W. Foulsham, 1962), pp. 156-157, 162. 1 OQ Robert Cremer, Lugosi: The Man Behind the Cape (Chicago: Henry Regnery Co., 1976), p. 100. •^•'"^J. Brooks Atkinson, "Death of the Evil Monster," New York Times, 6 October 1927, p. 29. ^•^^Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston, Dracula; the Vampire Play in Three Acts (New York: Samuel French, 1933).

•'"•'•^Ibid., p. 3. •'••'"^Ibid., Act I, p. 15, line 30. •'••'•^Ibid., Act II, p. 50, line 35.

•'"•'•^Ibid., p. 90.

•'••'•^Ibid., pp. 35, 45. •'••'•'^Ibid., pp. 89-90. •'••'•^Ibid., Act II, p. 50, lines 29-35. •'••'•^Fitzkee, The Trick Brain, pp. 267-268. 99 120 Deane, Dracula, Act I, pp. 33-34. 121 ''•^Ibid., p. 87. 122 Ibid., Act III, sc. 1, p. 71. 123 Deane, Dracula, Act II, p. 37, lines 34-38; p. 38, lines 1-3. •""^^Ibid.,. p. 78. 125 Cremer, Lugosi, p. 103. 126 Deane, Dracula, Act III, sc. 1, p. 57, lines 3-7. 127 'ibid.. Act III, sc. 1, p. 59, lines 12-13. •"•^^Ibid., p. 88. 129 Frank Vreeland in New York Telegram, 6 October 1927, quoted in Lennig, The Count, p. 68. 130 Deane, Dracula, p. 99. 131 Guy Jarret, Jarret Magic and Stagecraft, Technical (n.p., 1936); republished with additional material by Jim Steinmeyer (Chicago: Magic, Inc., 1981), p. 134. 132 Deane, Dracula, Act III, sc. 1, p. 70, lines 4-24. 133 Jarret, Magic, pp. 133-134. 134 Maskelyne and Devant, Our Magic, p. 62. •'•^^Fitzkee, The Trick Brain, p. 262. 136 Steinmeyer writes: "[Author and magic expert] Walter Gibson saw the original and offered the opinion that the vanish was one of the most magical moments of the theatre. Except for one thing. Seconds after the cape was folded and Lugosi was gone, the trapdoor slammed shut with a tremendous rumble. It was one of those moments that Jarret himself would have cursed." (Jarret, Magic, p. 134). 137 Bob Hall and David Richmond, The Passion of Dracula (New York: Samuel French, 1979). 138 Howard Kissel, "Theatre: 'Dracula,'" Women's Wear Daily. 21 October 1927, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews 38 (1977): 168. 100 139 Ted Tiller, Count Dracula (New York: Samuel French, 1972). 140 Clive Barnes, "Jersey Children Get a Taste of Live Acting," New York Times, 14 February 1976, p. 18. 141 Thomas Lask, "A Nip Here and There," New York Times 17 February 1978, p. C2. 142 Hall, Passion, Act I, p. 17, line 30. 143 Tiller, Count Dracula, Act I, p. 44, line 6. 144 Hall, Passion, Act I, p. 61, lines 1, 10. 145 Deane, Dracula, p. 94. 147 Douglas Watt, "A New 'Dracula' to Neck With," Daily News (New York), 30 September 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews 38 (1977): 152. 148 Howard Kissel, "The Passion of Dracula," Women's Wear Daily, 30 September 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews 38 (1977): 154. 149 Henry Ridgeley Evans, Magic and Its Professor (New York: G.Routledge & Sons, [1902]), pp. 38-49. 150 Albert A. Hopkins, ed., Magic: Stage Illusions, and Scientific Diversions, Including Trick Photography (New York: Munn & Co., 1898; reprint ed. New York: Dover Publications, 1976), p. 532. •'•^•'•Tiller, Count Dracula, Act I, p. 36, lines 3-7. •"•^^Ibid., Act II, p. 59, lines 4-9, 25-28. •'•^^Ibid., pp. 118-119. 154 •^^''ibid., p. 119. ^^^Ibid., p. 141. 156 •^^°Ibid., p. 146. IS^Ibid. 1 58 Tiller, Count Dracula, pp. 102-103, 126-128. 101 159 Deane, Dracula, pp. 103-105. Richard Eder, "Theatre: 'Dracula,' Elegant But Bloodless, on Broadway," New York Times, 21 October 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews 38 (1977): 166.

David Ansen, "Dracula Lives!" Newsweek, 31 October 1977, p. 74. 162 Tiller. Count Dracula, pp. 116, 129. •^ Hall, Passion, pp. 88-91. 164 Watt, "A New 'Dracula.'" 165 Tiller, Count Dracula, Act II, p. 77, lines 32-37. •^^^Ibid., pp. 125-126. •"•^"^Ibid., p. 126. 168 Hall, Passion, Act II, p. 66, lines 30-35; p. 67, lines 1-4. 169 Richard Eder, "Theatre: Dracula Up in the Air," New Yor17k0 Times, 30 September 1977, in New York Theatre Critics'^T' .Review E. Kalems 38, (1977)"Kinky: Count,152-153" .Time , 31 October 1977, p. 93. BIBLIOGRAPHY

Books Beck, Calvin Thomas. Heroes of the Horrors. New York: Collier Books, 1975. Beckerman, Bernard. The Dynamics of Drama. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1970. Bentley, Eric, ed. The Theory of the Modern Stage. New York: Penguin Books, 1968. Booth, Michael R. Victorian Sepctacular Theatre, 1850- 1910. Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1981. Boucicault, Dion. The Phantom. New York: Samuel French, 1856; New York: New York Public Library microfilm copy, NCOF. Brockett, Oscar G. History of the Theatre. Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1968. Brown, Gilmor and Garwood, Alice. General Principles of Play Direction. New York: Samuel French, 1936. Cameron, Kenneth M. and Hoffman, Theodore J.C. The Theatrical Response. London: Macmillan Co., 1969. Carter, Margaret L. Shadow of a Shade: A Survey of Vampirism in Literature. New York: Gorden Press, 1975. Christopher, Milbourne. The Illustrated History of Magic. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell Co., 1973. . Panorama of Magic. New York: Dover Publications, 1963. Corrigan, Robert. The World of the Theatre. Glenview, IL: Scott, Foresman & Co., 1979. and Rosenberg, James L., eds. The Context and Craft of Drama. Scranton, PA: Chandler Publishing, 1964.

102 103 Cremer, Robert. Lugosi: The Man Behind the Cape. Chicago: Henry Regnery Co., 1976. Deane, Hamilton and Balderston, John L. Dracula; The Vampire Play in Three Acts. New York: Samuel French, 1933. Disher, M. Willson. Melodrama; Plots That Thrilled. London: Rockliff, 1954. Dolman, John, Jr. and Knaub, Richard K. The Art of Play Production. New York: Harper & Row, 1973. Farson, Daniel. The Man Who Wrote Dracula. London: Michael Joseph, 1975. Fergusson, Francis. The Idea of a Theatre. Garden City, NY: Doubleday Anchor Books, 1954. Fitzgerald, Percy. The World Behind the Scenes. London: n.p., 1881; reprint ed., New York: Benjamin Blom, 1972. Fitzroy, Dariel [Dariel Fitzkee]. The Trick Brain. Oakland, CA: Magic Limited., 1976. Frayling, Christopher, ed. The Vampyre; Lord Ruthwen to Count Dracula. London: Victor Gollancz, 1978. Gallaway, Marian. The Director in the Theatre. New York Macmillan Co., 1963. Gill, Robert. Magic as a Performing Art; A Bibliography of Conjuring. London: Bowker, 1976. Grimstead, David. Melodrama Unveiled. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1968. Hall, Bob and Richmond, David. The Passion of Dracula. New York: Samuel French, 1979. Hamilton, Clayton. The Theory of the Theatre. New York: Henry Holt & Co., 1939. Hansen, Brian. Theatre: The Dynamics of the Art. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1986. Hay, Henry. The Amateur Magician's Handbook. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, New American Library, 1972. 104 Hazlitt, William. Criticisms and Dramatic Essays of the English Stage. London: G. Routledge, 1851. Hodge, Francis. Play Directing: Analysis, Communication, and Style, 2nd ed. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice- Hall, 1982. Hogan, Robert. Dion Boucicault. New York: Twayne, 1969. Hopkins, Albert A., ed. Magic: Stage Illusions, and Scientific Diversions, Including Trick Photography. New York: Munn & Co., 1898; reprint ed.. New York: Dover Publications, 1976. Jarret, Guy. Jarret Magic and Stagecraft, Technical. n.p., 1936; reprint ed. with additional material by Jim Steinmeyer, Chicago: Magic, Inc., 1981. Kozelka, Paul. Directing, The Theatre Student Series. New York: Richard Rosen Press, 1968. Krause, David, ed. Boucicault. n.p.: Dolman Press, 1964. Lennig, Arthur. The Count: The Life and Films of Bela 'Dracula' Lugosi. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1974. Lewis, Angelo John [Professor Hoffmann]. Modern Magic. London: George Routledge Sons, 1876; reprint ed.. New York: Dover Publications, 1978. Ludlam, Harry. A Biography of Dracula; The Life Story of Bram Stoker. London: W. Foulsham, 1962. McNally, Raymond T. A Clutch of Vampires. Greenwich, CT: New York Graphic Society, 1974. and Florescu, Radu. In Search of Dracula Greenwich, CT: New York Graphic Society, 1972. Maskelyne, Nevil and Devant, David. Our Magic, 2nd ed. Berkeley Heights, NJ: Fleming Book Co., 1946. Morley, Henry. Journal of a London Playgoer. London: Routledge & Sons, 1891. Morrison, Hugh. Directing in the Theatre. New York: Theatre Arts Books, 1973. 105 Moynet, J. P. French Theatrical Production in the Nineteenth Century. Translated and augmented by Allan S. Jackson and M. Glen Wilson, Marvin A. Carlson, ed. Binghamton, NY: State University of New York, 1976. Mulholland, John. John Mulholland's Book of Magic. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1963. Nelms, Henning. Magic and Showmanship. New York: Dover Publications, 1969. Nicoll, Allardyce. An Introduction to Dramatic Theory. London: George G. Harrap & Co., 1931; reprint ed. as The Theory of Drama. New York: Benjamin Blom, 1966. Planche, James Robinson. Recollections and Reflections. London: Sampson Low, Marston, 1901; reprint ed.. New York: DaCapo Press, 1979. The Vampire; or. The Bride of the Isles. Baltimore: J. Robinson [?], 1820; New York: New York Public Library microfilm, NCOF. The Vampire; or. The Bride of the Isles London: John Cumberland, [n.d.]; New York: New York Public Library microfilm, NCOF. The Vampire; or The Bride of the Isles. In The Golden Age of Melodrama, pp. 64-88, by Michael Kilgariff. London: Wolfe Publishing, 1974. Randal, Jason. The Psychology of Deception (Why Magic Works). Venice, CA: Top Secret Productions, 1982. Riccardo, Martin V. Vampires Unearthed. New York: Garland Publishing, 1983. Ronay, Gabriel. The Truth About Dracula. New York: Stein & Day, 1972. Rowell, George. Victorian Dramatic Criticism. London: Methum & Co., 1971. The Victorian Theatre, A Survey. London: Oxford University Press, 1956. Seltzer, Daniel, ed. The Modern Theatre. Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1967. 106 Sievers, W. David. Directing for the Theatre, 2nd ed. Dubuque, lA: William C. Brown Co., 1965. Staub, August W. Creating Theatre: The Art of Theatrical Directing. New York: Harper & Row, 1973. Summers, Montague. The Vampire; His Kith and Kin. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1928. Tiller, Ted. Count Dracula. New York: Samuel French, 1972. Twitchell, James B. The Living Dead; A Study of the Vampire in Romantic Literature. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1981. Walsh, Townsend. The Career of Dion Boucicault. New York: Dunlap Society, 1915. Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, 1963 ed. Welker, David. Theatrical Direction: The Basic Techniques. Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1971. Winter, Marian Hannah. The Theatre of Marvels. New York: Benjamin Blom, 1962. Wolf, Leonard. The Annotated Dracula. New York: Clarkson N. Potter, 1975. Wright, Dudley. Vampires and Vampirism. London: William Rider & Son, 1924.

Journals Emmet, Alfred. "The Vampire Trap." Theatre Notebook 34:3 (1980): 128-129. Lawrence, W. J. "Some Stage Effects: Their Growth and History." The Gentleman's Magazine 265 (July-Dec. 1888): 83-95. Nichols, Harold J. "The Acting of Thomas Potter Cooke." Nineteenth Century Theatre Research 5 (Autumn 1977): 73-84. Southern, Richard. "Trick-Work in the English Nineteenth Century Theatre." Life and Letters Today 21 (May 1939): 94-101. 107 Magazines Ansen, David. "Dracula Lives!" Newsweek, October 31, 1977, pp. 74-75. Baker, Henry B. "Theatrical Scenery and Effects." Belgravia, February, 1875, pp. 209-212. "Dracula." Theatre Magazine, December, 1927, p. 84. Gussow, Mel. "Gorey Goes Batty." New York Times Magazine, October 16, 1977, p. 41. Hughes, Catharine. "Crow's Feet and Bat's Wings." America, September 12, 1977, p. 334. Kalem, T. E. "Kinky Count." Time, October 31, 1977, p. 93. Simon, John. "Dingbat." New York Magazine, November 7, 1977, p. 75. White, Timothy. "Dracula; The Warmblooded Revival of the Debonaire King of the Undead." Crawdaddy, June, 1978, pp. 26-33.

Newspapers Atkinson, J. Brooks. "Death of the Evil Monster." New York Times, 6 October 1927, sec. 29, p. 1. Barnes, Clive. "Getting in on 'The Act.'" Times Saturday Review (London), 19 November 1977, p. 13. . "Jersey Children Get a Taste of Live Acting." New York Times, 14 February 1976, sec. 19, p. 1. Beaufort, John. "An Eerie 'Dracula.'" Christian Science Monitor, 26 October 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, p. 169. "Dracula." Variety, 25 October 1977, p. 83. Eder, Richard. "Theatre: 'Dracula,' Elegant But Bloodless, on Broadway." New York Times, 21 October 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, p. 166. . "Theatre: Dracula Up in the Air." New York Times, 30 September 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, pp. 152-3. 108 "English Opera House." Times (London), 9 August 1820, p. 2. Gottfried, Martin. "Comic Touches Bleed Dracula's Chilly Charm." New York Post, 30 September 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, p. 153. II f Dracula' is Pure Escape, Great Fun." New York Post, 21 October 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, pp. 167-8. Kissel, Howard. "The Passion of Dracula." Women's Wear Daily, 30 September 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, p. 154. . "Theatre: Dracula." Women's Wear Daily, 21 October 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, p. 168. "Little Theatre; 'Dracula.'" Times (London), 15 February 1927, p. 10. "Princess's Theatre." Times (London), 16 June 1852, p. 6. "Theatre of Illusion to Dazzle Jefferson." Daily Jefferson County Union (Fort Atkinson, WI), 15 January 1987, p. 5. "Two Plays in London Make Many Faint." New York Times, 11 March 1927, sec. 24, p. 3. Watt, Douglas. "Langella is Count Dracula Down to the Teeth." Daily News (New York), 21 October 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, p. 166. "A New 'Dracula' to Neck With." Daily News (New York), 30 September 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, p. 152. Wilson, Edwin. "The Bloody Count Rises." Wall Street Journal, 25 October 1977, in New York Theatre Critics' Reviews, vol. 38, p. 169.

Dissertations Bennett, Cleon Vernon. "James Robinson Planche: Victorian Craftsman." Ph.D. dissertation. University of Wisconsin—Madison, 1971. 109 Hubbell, Douglas K. "The 'Scientific American' and Its 'Supplement' as Sources of Information About Theatre Technology." Ph.D. dissertation, Indiana University, 1978. Johnson, Raoul Fenton. "United States and British Patents for Scenic and Lighting Devices for the Theatre from 1861 to 1915." Ph.D. dissertation. University of Illinois (Urbana), 1966. McCosker, Susan. "Representative Performances of Stage Magic, 1650-1900." Ph.D. dissertation. New York University, 1982. Mitchell, Lee. "Elizabethan Scenes of Violence and the Problem of Their Staging." Ph.D. dissertation. Northwestern University, 1941. Oliver, George B. "Changing Patterns of Spectacle on the New York Stage (1850-1890)." Ph.D. dissertation, Pennsylvania State University, 1956. Paul, Charles R. "An Annotated Translation: Theatrical Machinery: Stage Scenery and Devices by George Moynet." Ph.D. disssertation. University of Southern California, 1970. Pecor, Charles Joseph. "The Magician On the American Stage, 1752-1874." Ph.D. dissertation. University of Georgia, 1978. Schneideman, Robert Ivan. "Elizabethan Legerdemain and Its Employment in the Drama, 1576-1642." Ph.D. dissertation. Northwestern University, 1956. Wedwick, Daryl Melvin. "U.S. and British Patents of Scenic and Illusionistic Devices and Effects for the Theatre, 1916-1970." Ph.D. dissertation. Bowling Green State University, 1972.

Miscellaneous Blackstone Magic Show, souvenir program. New York Columbia Artists Management, 1978. APPENDIX THE FITZKEE SYSTEM

The following words are taken directly from Dariel Fitzkee's book. The Trick Brain. Every effort was made to edit and condense as much as possible. Still, the material being repeated here is as lengthy as necessary in order to provide a clear and thorough idea as to the application of the system. It is important to realize, I think, that practically any of the [nineteen basic] effects may be done with objects, persons or livestock. This is particularly true of the effects that have to do with physical accomplishments. You may cause a steel rod to penetrate a glass plate. Or a steel saw may penetrate through the body of a living woman. As tricks, both of the happenings listed seem different because of the objects associated together in the accomplishment of the result. Yet as far as the effect goes, you have achieved the identical thing in both cases. You have caused solid matter to penetrate other solid matter, apparently without harming either. The time element enters into these effects. Any effect may be accomplished instantaneously. Or gradually. The ultimate result is unchanged in its fundamental regardless of the period of time involved in the operation. So in all cases this final classification has excluded the element of time. Localized conditions do not alter the effect fundamentally either. The operation may be performed out in the open or under cover. It does not matter whether the performer reaches beneath a handkerchief to cause a cigarette to appear or he just plucks it from the thin air, out in the open. . . . Method of causing a deception has been the principal stress in much of the literature of magic for many decades. This is probably due to the

110 Ill emphasis upon concealing the secret of the opera­ tion. ... But perhaps an indirect argument in favor of abandonment of mechanical conceptions as the chief factors in magic may be found in this work when the various inventions are revealed to depend upon a paltry nineteen general effects. These in turn are accomplished through the use and re-use of but a few methods, ingeniously disguised sometimes, it is true...... Really, there are not many basic ways of accomplishing a magical appearance. Generally, a production, or an appearance, is an effect in which the aspect to the spectator is the materialization of something or someone. This appearance may be either gradual or instantaneous. It may take place out in the open, uncovered, or back of, or within or beneath something. It is essential, of course[,] that the effect be accomplished without apparent reasonable physical causation. As it appears to the spectator, the performer may just be standing in sight and suddenly he may be seen holding something, something which was not visible a moment before. Or an object may become visible at a place removed from the magician. Or the entertainer may take something from a place previously shown empty. . . . Right at the start, in discussing appearances let it be clearly realized that no magician can create anything. Therefore, the subject of the eventual production must be hidden somewhere. The problem, then, becomes one of arranging a suitable hiding place and devising a method of getting the subject from that place of concealment to the place of production in such a manner that the subject will seem to be produced magically. It is a matter of concealing the subject in a hiding place incorporated in the place of production, or concealing its acquirement and conveyance from a more or less removed place of concealment. 112 Practically all of these productions are accomplished through one or a combination or a variation of a comparative few basic principles. Fitzkee then spends the remainder of that chapter discussing all possible methods of accomplishing an appearance. Instead of duplicating his entire chapter at this time, his summary of those methods is recreated here in its entirety. BASIC EFFECT No. 1 APPEARANCE OR PRODUCTION Basic Methods 1--Subject taken from secret hiding place while attention is diverted elsewhere. 2--Subject taken from secret hiding place after appearance simulated by a form. 3--Subject taken from a secret hiding place after appearance simulated by an attachable portion. 4--Subject brought from secret hiding place into view, swiftly, by means of pulled thread. 5--Subject brought from secret hiding place into view, swiftly, by means of elastic pull. 6--Subject brought from secret hiding place into view, swiftly, by means of spring reel. 7--Subject brought into view from secret hiding place by means of a guided movement, through gravity or centrifugal force. 8—Subject brought into view by means of revolving panel. 9—Subject taken from fixed secret compartment built into place of production. 10--Subject taken from rotating, tipping, hanging or other movable container built into place of production. 11—Subject taken from secret compartment created in place of production by means of reflection-- mirror, or transparent glass with light control. 12--Subject taken from shell object. 13--Subject taken from one of two compartments

Fitzkee, The Trick Brain, pp. 32-37. 113 either of which may become secret. 14--Subject brought to place of production behind, beneath or within an accessory. 15--Subject taken from secret compartment near and accessible to place of production. 16—Subject revealed by removing covering which blends with background--a full covering, a swinging flap—or by reversing subject which has background material on back. 17--Subject brought to place of production through secret passageway or by means of secret in­ gress. 18--Subject produced by chemical means. 19--Subject produced by optical projection. 20--Subject a hollow shell which conforms to the hollow interior of an accessory or cover. 21--Subject produced by secret exchange of con­ tainers. 22--Production pretended, after which performer pretends to place it in container within which subject is hidden. 23--Subject, disguised as something else, is revealed by removal of disguise. 24—Expansible subject taken from secret hiding place while attention is diverted elsewhere. 25--Expansible subject taken from secret hiding place after appearance simulated by a form. 26—Expansible.subject taken from secret hiding place after appearance simulated by an attachable portion. 27--Expansible subject brought into view swiftly from a secret hiding place by means of invisible pulled thread. 28--Expansible subject brought into view swiftly from secret hiding place by means of elastic pull. 29--Expansible subject brought into view swiftly from a secret hiding place by means of spring reel. 30—Subject brought into view swiftly from a secret hiding place by means of a spring lever. 31—Expansible subject brought into view swiftly from a secret hiding place by means of a spring lever. 32—Expansible subject brought into view swiftly 114 from a secret hiding place by means of a guided movement, through gravity or centrifugal force. 33—Expansible subject brought into view swiftly by means of a revolving panel. 34—Expansible subject taken from fixed secret compartment built into place of production. 35—Expansible subject taken from a rotating, tipping, hanging or other movable container built into place of production. 36—Expansible subject taken from secret compart­ ment created in place of production by means of reflection—mirror or transparent glass with light control. 37—Expansible subject taken from shell object. 38—Expansible subject taken from one of two com­ partments either of which may become secret. 39—Expansible subject brought to place of production behind, beneath or within an accessory. 40--Expansible subject taken from a secret compartment near or accessible to place of production. 41--Expansible subject revealed by removing covering which blends with background--a full covering, a swinging flap--or by reversing subject which has background material on back. 42--Expansible subject brought to place of produc­ tion through secret passageway or by means of secret ingress. 43—Expansible object or objects, combined with other expansible object or objects, to appear as one, afterwards allowed to expand individually. 44--Expansible object a hollow shell which conforms to hollow interior of an accessory or cover. 45--Expansible subject produced by secret exchange of containers. 45--Production pretended, after which performer pretends to place it in a container within which expansible subject is hidden. 47--Expansible subject, disguised as something else, is revealed by removal of disguise. 115 48--0bject catapulted or thrown into place of appearance. Anyone who wishes to pursue this system further will have to consult Fitzkee's work directly. What has been provided here, along with the main text of this study, should be sufficient to help illustrate to the theatre technician how Fitzkee's system might be adapted to suit his needs in trick-work problem-solving.

^Ibid., pp. 259-261.