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" ,-- . . . t o
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 G o n g . " —
(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: ". . . A s 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.
74Cleon 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., A c t I, p . 1 5 , line 3 0 .
•'••'•^Ibid., A c t I I , p . 5 0 , line 3 5 .

•'"•'•^Ibid., p . 90.

•'••'•^Ibid., p p . 3 5 , 4 5 .
•'••'•'^Ibid., p p . 8 9 - 9 0 .
•'••'•^Ibid., A c t I I , p . 5 0 , lines 2 9 - 3 5 .
•'••'•^Fitzkee, The Trick Brain, p p . 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 . 8 8 .
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 York
170 Times, 30 September 1977, in New York Theatre
'^T.
Critics' E. Kalem,
Reviews "Kinky Count,"
38 (1977): Time, 31 October 1977,
152-153.
p. 93.
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. "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.