I found this today. It's a picture of Madame Charlene of Charlene and Charlene. She played the xylophone skilfully while he juggled. Apparently her gowns were glorious. They came to Australia three times. This is a damaged photo from Theatre Magazine 1910.
The Kelsos were two jugglers from Melbourne who found
Australia too small for their lofty ambitions.
The Kelso brothers, Joe Wheeler and Harry Denman were not siblings,
but considered themselves brothers in vaudeville. Both were born in Victoria around 1889 and the
suburb of Hawthorn later claimed them. As youths they juggled at school, and as
adults they settled into jobs in Melbourne, Joe at a bookstall and Harry as a typesetter
for The Argus newspaper. But the juggling urge was too strong. They juggled at
work, and after work they juggled for charity. Unfortunately, the juggling at
work was unacceptable to their employers and they were fired. They decided to turn
their obsession into a profession.
They started juggling on the streets of Melbourne around
1909. Then they graduated to Jones Moving Theatre Company, which travelled the
regional areas of Australia giving vaudeville performances under a tent. Amongst the cast at the company was Flossie
Jeffries, a champion lady club swinger, and it may be from her that the Kelso
brothers or boys (as they sometimes called themselves) learnt how to manipulate
clubs.
Jones was not a good employer and he often forgot to pay his
employees. There were fights amongst the performers, Flossie got into a
physical confrontation with contortionist Lottie, and the rough nights under
canvas were neither well paid nor well managed. The Kelso brothers honed their
craft and left Jones. Later they sued him for 13 pounds in lost wages and won
the case.
By 1910, the Kelsos were working at the National
Amphitheatre and appeared as jugglers and hoop spinners. In 1911 they were in
New Zealand and juggling clubs, spinning plates, and rolling hoops. A reviewer
said that ‘the precision with which they threw plates, clubs and balls from one
to another and went through other feats of balancing provides a more than
usually excellent turn.’
The two men were close in age but quite different in
personality. Joe was later described as the hard headed businessman, whilst
Harry was saturnine, talkative, and restless. When they later added comedy to
the act, Harry played the clown and Joe the straight man.
In 1912 they were widely acknowledged as Australia’s best
club jugglers. In South Australia that year the ‘clever pair of comedy
jugglers’ manipulated a billiard cue from foot to chin, threw plates from side
to side with the comedian running around desperately trying to prevent them
smashing on the floor, and performed Indian club work that was ‘brilliant.’
However, Australia was not big enough for the Kelso
brothers. They believed that the small population of the country meant that ‘an
act out here is hardly finished before it must be changed’. The two young men
decided to travel to America for six months and try their luck.
They claimed that they worked their passage to San
Francisco, but it seems they were regular passengers. In October 1912 they
arrived on the west coast of the United States, with little money and few
connections. They started small, with a charity performance, and then
approached a local theatre. They were offered 75 cents a night and began a
career that took them to the heights of vaudeville.
Soon they were playing the major cities and combining
comedy, juggling, and dancing in a riotous turn. In 1915 they opened the bill
at the American Roof, the roof of the American theatre in New York City. Variety
Magazine said they did ‘very well’. The comedian was ‘not bad at all’ but the
young man who danced took it ‘too seriously’. They rolled hoops, danced, and
juggled in this act. According to ‘Clever’ Conkey, they had a novel turn ‘ and
while doing a dancing specialty touch up Indian clubs and put them into action without
breaking their routine.’
That year Joe married Jane Carroll in New York. Jane was
from Chicago and was also a performer. By 1917 the couple had two children
Elizabeth and Lorraine.
It was war time and Joe and Harry had to register for war
service. By now, both men, although still slender and fit, had streaks of grey
in their dark hair. The signs of age may have been due to the hectic pace of
constant performance. Harry later said that on ‘bad days’ they had to produce
as many as five performances a day and keep up an exhausting schedule.
This schedule did not exhaust Harry’s restless nature. In
1917 he was imprisoned for 10 days because of an altercation with the White Rats.
The White Rats were an American labour organisation which imposed ‘strikes’ on
various theatres. In this case they entered the Loew Fulton Brooklyn Theatre on
a Wednesday night looking to cause trouble, a brawl ensued, and Harry was
arrested. The rats campaigned for better wages for white men, women and people
of colour were not allowed to join, and they opposed the corporate monopoly of
the theatre chains. However, their cause was unpopular with many performers
because of their exclusionary policies. The theatre managers usually chose to
ignore their shenanigans and Harry apparently found that imprisonment did not
impede his ability to perform.
By the end of the war, the increasing popularity of moving
pictures was encroaching on the success of traditional vaudeville. Theatre
owners began to show revues which mixed dancing, comedy and singing in short
skits. Harry and Joe were versatile and talented performers who could change
their routines to suit the changing times.
In December 1918, the Kelsos were performing on the Columbia
Burlesque circuit in New York in a revue programme with Jean Bendini. They
performed in comedy skits, did some juggling, and collaborated with a large
cast. Variety said that ‘what they did with plates, Indian Clubs and hoops was
the ace of jugglerism.’
Shortly afterwards the pair decided to return to Australia
for a tour. However, they were disappointed in their expectations when they
were quarantined upon arrival. The Spanish flu was rife amongst passengers and
crew on long haul shipping, and many ships were quarantined due to illness and
death from the disease. Harry and Joe were caught on one of these ships and
their proposed weeks long stay in the home country was reduced to an hour-long
meeting with relatives.
They quickly returned to revues in the United States. In
1921 they performed at the Columbia Theatre in a revue called ‘Peek a Boo’
which included Florence Kelso (Jane) and Florence Darley. They had broadened
their skills and Joe performed magic tricks whilst Harry balanced on a large
rolling ball. Both appeared in comedy skits and continued to display their
superior juggling skills.
In 1925 they formed their own company which included a live
lion act. They incorporated this into a show called the Crazy Quilt Revue. Unfortunately,
at the end of one show, a lion attacked its handler, and his hand was severely
mangled before the Kelsos could rescue him. The man died of blood poisoning and
the lion was sent to a zoo. They persisted with the act however and employed
another lion tamer to control the three remaining beasts.
In 1927, Harry married one of the cast members, Florence
Darley, and she, Joe’s wife Jane, the lions, and a supporting cast joined the
brothers in 1928 on a long tour of Australia.
The pair returned to their native land as superstars. They
were paid a huge wage, and were welcomed home with interviews, and warm
reviews. Their families greeted them with hugs and laughs at the pier, and they
were honoured with a civic reception in their native town of Hawthorn. The
Kelsos had acquired American accents by this time and Joe had silver hair which
made him look ‘dignified enough to be a motion picture judge.’ Harry was
‘square chinned’ with ‘eyes like agate’.
The Crazy Quilt Revue was a huge success. It featured Harry
and Joe, Flo Carroll (Jane Kelso), Howard Nicholls, a hoop juggler, Florence
Darley, (the other Mrs Kelso) Merna Stewart, Maurice Kelly, an Irish/American comedian,
and Captain Smithley’s lions. The act comprised four turns which incorporated
dancing, juggling, magic, lion taming and comedy. It lasted about an hour and
took up the whole second part of the programme.
The Kelsos presented a juggling burlesque as part of the
show. Despite Joe’s silver hair, he was ‘agile enough to be one of the smartest
jugglers still’. Harry still played the clown and ‘his philosophy of life
delivered in unexpected asides nearly convulsed his listeners’.
The two men interfered humorously in Howard Nicholl’s
juggling act and upstaged him with their antics. They were particularly
nonsensical when Nicholls whirled almost a dozen hoops around his arms, neck,
and legs. Florence Carroll also juggled whilst being harassed by the Kelsos
whilst Maurice Kelly provided a further comedic element. Mr Smithley and the
lions presented just the right degree of danger and excitement to leave the
audience satisfied.
Joe Kelso
The revue was fast paced, funny and unlike anything that had
been seen in Australia. The two stars were feted everywhere and gave opinions
on everything from American culture to prohibition. Every show was greeted with
rapturous applause and audience members were seen straining forward in their
seats in expectation of the next wonder. Overall, the tour, which lasted 5 months,
was an enormous success.
It was their last triumph as a partnership. Harry travelled
to London and Joe back to the United States. The era of live performance was
fading, the depression was severely restricting the availability of work, and
Harry seemed eager to retire.
Harry returned to Australia in the 1930s and bought a hotel
in the small town of Warrandyte in Victoria. He died in 1936 after a short
illness.
Joe, meanwhile, continued to perform as a solo act. He
became an American citizen and settled permanently with his wife and daughters
in Illinois. In the 1940s Joe was still juggling and performing magic on
stages, at fairs, and in burlesques. In
August 1944 he was killed in a car accident. He had just completed a 30-week
contract in burlesque and had bookings for the rest of the year.
Although Harry and Joe diversified their act over the years,
they were jugglers at heart. Harry said that as a young typesetter, ‘when I
wasn’t doing it (juggling) with my own knucklebones, I was doing it with the
type.’
While Joe put it more simply.
‘You’ve got to have juggling in you, the first time I went
to a circus and saw juggling I said to myself ‘I think I’d like to try that’ I
tried in the backyard and found it came quite easily to me.’
Harry and Joe Kelso
were two of the best jugglers ever produced in the backyard of Australia.
Japanese jugglers were very popular in Australia during the late 19th Century, so it was not surprising that Tivoli owner, Hugh McIntosh, decided to import a Japanese juggling act, the Togos during the First World War. The two jugglers,28-year-old Unotaro Ishikawa, (born 1888/89 in Yokohama) and 27-year-old Kameichi Yasuda, remained in Australia for several years. Eventually Unotaro married an Australian woman and became known as ‘Togo’ the juggler.
The pair arrived in Australia in 1916. However, they first
had to navigate the White Australia Policy and gain an exemption from the
notorious dictation test. This test was designed to prevent non whites from
entering the country by subjecting them to a dictation test in any language.
For example, a person who could speak and write fluent English may have been
subjected to a dictation test in Gaelic, thus preventing their entry. Fortunately, as performers, the Togos gained
an exemption from the test because the Tivoli Theatre deposited a substantial
bond which guaranteed their eventual departure.
The pair gave their first show in Australia at the Melbourne
Tivoli in November. The act amazed and astounded audiences. It was lavishly
presented, with the jugglers dressed in Japanese costumes and backed by a purple
and gold setting. During the performance
Unotaro juggled sticks, India rubber balls and a glass of water. He was a
clever and skilled juggler and everything he did was ‘so neatly done that it
looks easy and simple’. The highlight of his act was juggling six sticks. Uno
was promoted as being the only person who could achieve this feat. The sticks
were broom handles of around 18 inches (45 cm) long, and he twirled them in the air deftly,
and ‘with a cleverness and speed that stimulated every pulse’. Unotaro also
‘spun a Japanese top to the ceiling which released a mechanical device which
erupted in Japanese and British flags in a setting of electric globes’, a
unique, beautiful, and patriotic display during war time.
The highlight of the show was the ‘slide for life’, a wire
walking act by Kameichi. A wire was strung between the stage and the roof of
the theatre. Kameichi walked the wire to the top, then aided by a parasol, he
slid down the wire back to the stage over the heads of the audience. It was a
remarkable and dangerous feat, made more dangerous when he repeated it
blindfolded, with a bag over his head. One reporter called it ‘one of the most
thrilling acts in vaudeville’.
The act was an enormous success across the Tivoli circuit
and the two men toured the east coast of Australia to much acclaim. After their
contract with the Tivoli expired, they signed with the Fuller circuit, and
continued to play in New Zealand and Australia.
By 1918 the pair were touring Australia as the Royal Togos
and Kameichi was going by the name ‘George Togo’. In Rockhampton ‘attired in
gorgeous oriental costumes they juggled with different articles in a most
finished manner’ They had introduced top spinning to the act which was also very
successful. The highlight continued to be the ‘slide for life’ which astonished
and shocked spectators whenever it was performed.
Whilst travelling, Uno met 19-year-old Glory Numm. In January 1919, the pair married in Sydney.
Glory was the daughter of a prominent member of the Sydney Chinese community,
Horace Numm, a professional interpreter. Her mother, Mary Sing, had died when
Glory was a baby. Glory and Unotaro kept a house in the suburbs of Sydney in
the early 1920s and Glory occasionally travelled with the show.
In late 1919, the act travelled to New Zealand as the Togos-
Alsace company. In Greymouth, Uno, the smaller brother, was described as
keeping ‘the audience spellbound by a series of juggling feats that defied the
laws of gravity and carried one into the world of wizardry.’ Uno balanced a
round piece of tin, a penny and an egg and kept the lot rolling merrily around
the edges of a parasol. He also juggled four burning torches which created an
uncanny illumination in the theatre. Naturally the climax of his performance
was juggling 6 sticks.
George gave a diabolo exhibition, walked the wire, and slid
for life. During the slide for life, the producer, Louis Alsace, asked ladies
in the audience if they would like to join George on the wire. There were no
volunteers. The show was described as a ‘high class performance’ and was very
popular.
Shortly afterwards it seems that George left the show for
the United States, because by 1921, Togo, was performing the slide for life at
a Broadway theatre. Unotaro, however, with his Australian connections remained
in the antipodes and continued as a solo act.
In late 1921 he performed on the Tivoli circuit and was
described as ‘short, dark, dapper’ with a ‘Japanese smile’. His manipulation of
various discs on an umbrella was seen as ‘almost incredible’ and the applause
was long and loud.
Unotaro spoke and wrote English well and in 1922 was using
personal letterhead which proclaimed ‘‘Togo’- The Equilibrist par excellence
and the only 6 cue manipulator in the world.’
During the early 1920s, he travelled regularly between
Australia and New Zealand. He headlined shows in provincial towns and big
cities and introduced novelty into his act in the form of unique top spinning
and juggling. He and Glory had two children during this time.
He was well liked by the Australian theatrical community. In
1923, an Australian newspaper related a humorous anecdote about him. Apparently
on one of his journeys he was given a French grammar. His friends were
astounded when he claimed, mere days later that he had mastered the language,
saying ‘-Oh I know how to say ‘how much’ and ‘too much’ and that’s enough for me’.
Despite this, many of the reviews of his performances have a
tone of paternalism, which indicated a racist view of the Japanese. In addition,
every time he returned to Australia he had to register with the government and
apply, with bond, for an exemption from the dictation test. This was a bureaucratic
obstacle which was not imposed on his white peers.
Most reviews emphasised his small stature. It seems he was
rather short, a New Zealand newspaper described him as ‘diminutive in stature,
but a giant in ability’ when he worked for Fullers in 1924.
That year he applied for copyright on a top spinning/juggling
act. In the application he described how he spun a top in the air and caught it on
the top of a bat then juggled the top and two bats. He also included top
spinning on a sword and a fan. He performed these tricks in his show.
In 1925 Uno, Glory and their two children travelled to
England. It seems they remained there, at least until 1939. In 1927 Unotaro was
reported as performing in variety in the provinces and in 1931, he was said to
be with Maskelyne in London.
In 1937 he was filmed by British Pathe and described as an Australian juggler, although there is no indication
he ever became an Australian citizen. The video shows him juggling five sticks
and performing two of the top spinning feats he patented in 1924. If the dating
is accurate, he was 48 or 49 years old at the time of filming. In 1939 Unotaro
Ishikawa, music hall artiste, was living with wife, Glory, in Islington in
England.
Unotaro Ishikawa, aka Togo, had a long and prosperous life as a juggler and fortunately his act has been memorialised on video. He was a unique artist who undoubtedly had to deal with racism throughout his life. However, he managed to outperform and maintain a successful career much longer than many of his contemporaries and was an outstanding representative of the juggling art.
Although many famous and talented international jugglers
visited Australia, there were others who were probably equally talented but less
renowned. These jugglers were mainstays of the Australian and New Zealand
entertainment industry for decades. One such juggler was William ‘Gazza’
Walden, who performed with his family as ‘The Gazzas’
William Alfred Walden, later to be known as ‘The Great
Gazza’ a juggler and equilibrist, was born in Wellington New Zealand in 1874.
His father, James, was a clerk and a detective, and quite a colourful
character. In the early 1900s, James was famous for his chronically upset
stomach and subsequent printed testimonies for Dr Williams Pink Pills.
According to numerous advertisements appearing between 1904-1907, James was one
of the oldest identities in Wellington, a veteran of the Māori Wars, a crack
shot, a keen oarsman, and a straight and honest man. He was also the father of
a large family, including William who was his second son.
It is perhaps not surprising that with this eccentric man as
a father, that by 1902, William, still living at home with James and mother
Margaret, described himself as a ‘theatrical.’ But it was not until 1905, that
his juggling feats began to appear in the local press.
William started the year juggling for a charity function in
Foxton, where he ‘indulged in juggling quite successfully.’ By the end of the year,
he was performing for Percy Dix as ‘Gazza’ the juggler. He used the name for
decades in various forms.
At this stage he was mainly juggling and balancing. He
juggled for 15 minutes, and part of his act was a cannon ball trick inspired by
Cinquevalli.
‘He takes an ordinary billiard cue upon the tip of which is
balanced a heavy cannon ball, balances the cue on his chin, with a quick
movement of the hand, knocks the cue away and catches the heavy ball between
his shoulders.’
A reviewer called it, ‘hair raising’ and stated that ‘one
feels a sigh of relief when he completes his performance.’
Around this time William married Ada Oakes in Christchurch
New Zealand. She was an Australian who was also involved in the theatrical
profession. Ada and William soon became a double act as the ‘juggling Gazzas’.
In 1906 William was performing in various vaudeville halls
around New Zealand. Ada had given birth to their first child Margaret and was
recuperating at home, whilst her husband toured as ‘Rudolph Gazza’, Asia’s
military juggler’ for a group called America’s Entertainers.
The pair toured the circuit performing for circuses, small
variety groups and regional shows for several years in Australia and New
Zealand. In 1910 they re-emerged from relative obscurity as the ‘Two Gazzas
Military jugglers extraordinaire’. The highlight of that year was a booking at
the Alhambra Theatre where William did the cannon ball trick and performed
‘balancing prodigies with a three-legged table supported on the butts of three
billiard cues. Ada meanwhile provided the ‘whimsical embellishments’ of a
‘clowning partner’ whilst he juggled.
Three years later they were performing as a trio, little Margaret was now the world’s youngest contortionist and Ada was walking on a wire. Their younger children, William and Harry were too small for the act. Advertisements spruiked them as veterans of Wirth’s and Fitzgerald’s circuses, the premier circuses of the day, and touted their act as direct from the Fuller’s vaudeville circuit. This pedigree implied that they were a high class turn.
At this time, William played the banjo and did juggling tricks, Ada balanced on a ladder resting on a high wire and walked on it gracefully, and Maggie contorted her small frame into strange shapes. They spent the year providing entertainment between films at the new movie theatres and making the occasional appearance in variety programmes. It was a tough schedule with three children and five mouths to feed and they were always hustling for the next gig.
During the first World War they travelled across the Tasman
several times with the children. William was too old to fight, and the children
too young. In 1915 they toured regional
areas of Australia with Ridgeway’s circus and Vaudeville Company. William
juggled, Ada walked the wire and the children performed as acrobats and contortionists.
They also performed at the new Sydney Stadium.
It was a punishing schedule travelling through the north of
Australia to the south and back across the Tasman to New Zealand. The
conditions were tough, the pay low and the work hard, somehow, they managed to
survive as a family.
At the end of the war, they had a mini renaissance and found
continuous work in both Australia and New Zealand for several years.
In 1920 they performed at the popular Tighes Theatre in
Newcastle. In 1921 they returned to New Zealand with Ridgeway’s Circus. They
had been associated with the Ridgeways for some time, but the association came
to a bitter end when William sued the circus for back pay. The conditions in
the circus were not very good, Ada complained about the food saying that it was
‘unsatisfactory’. By this time, they had another child, Stella. William decided
to leave and gave the Ridgeways notice, but the circus kept their 5-pound wage.
The Gazzas won the subsequent court case and received their pay.
They remained in New Zealand and in 1923 were performing in
their own show as, The Gazza Troupe
Margaret performed as a mind reader and was described as a
‘talented young lady’ who earned wide applause. William did sketches and conjuring,
Ada walked the wire, and their pet fox terrier did tricks. They included
juggling, balancing and acrobatics and the two younger boys also contributed to
the show, whilst the whole troupe provided music. They were ‘neat, refined and
well balanced’ and possessed ‘exceptional talent.’
They travelled by car to their next destination, but their
solo efforts were not very successful. Eventually they joined up with McEwan,
the magician, but he thought their show was too weak for the cities. They
parted company acrimoniously and William had to sue for lost wages again. Again,
he won.
They returned to the regional tours in Australia in the mid-1920s
but by the end of the decade William was performing alone. The depression was
stifling demand for entertainment, and it seems that Ada and the children had
settled elsewhere. By the early 1930s William was performing alone and in 1932
showed as ‘Gazza, the almost blind juggler, the only one in the world’.
William continued to juggle and do odd jobs in circus and
theatres. He performed in Queensland near Ipswich where Ada lived with the
family and travelled to Sydney quite often to perform in benefits and smaller
shows.
In February 1939, the 62-year-old, using the name William Clifford,
decided to attempt a world record in juggling. He proposed to juggle three
clubs while walking between Gosford on the central coast of New South Wales to
Newcastle which was 83 km or 52 miles away. He estimated that it would take 14 hours and
said he would only stop for cups of tea. For the first time he was quoted in a
newspaper saying, ‘by the time I reach Newcastle the clubs will feel like a ton
weight’
And his picture was published too.
He completed the feat and attempted a similar trek a month
later from Gosford to Sydney. This walk
gained a smaller amount of publicity.
In 1940, 64-year-old William was working with Thorpe Mc
Conville’s Wild West Show. A travelling show that visited all the regional
areas of Australia. The featured attraction was trick horse riding, but William
was performing as ‘Gazza the Great’ juggling and balancing.
After one show he retired to bed and was smoking, somehow
his mattress caught fire and he was unable to escape. A passer-by saw the smoke
and rushed in to save him, but it was too late, he was found on the floor, dead
from smoke asphyxiation.
Gazza was survived by Ada and his children. Harry, his
second son, served in World War 2 as a musician and entertainer and survived to
settle in Tasmania, Margaret, the child contortionist married in Sydney in 1934
and settled in Sydney. Ada lived in Ipswich until her death in the 1960s.
They are little remembered in the pantheon of juggling stars
in Australia, but the Gazzas were a juggling family, and William remained a
juggler until his death. Their family was one of many who eked out a living as
performers, suffering vicissitudes and troubles and triumphs in the
Australasian entertainment industry during early 20th Century. Their
struggles were typical of fringe performers who had nothing but family to
support their dreams and aspirations in a fast-changing world.
Many years ago I purchased about 10-20 scrap books from an old collector. Sometimes I look through them and discover some interesting things. Some I've shown before, but it's nice to have them together.
She was an integral part of one of the world’s most famous
magic acts but died in obscurity in the United States. Suee Seen, Chung Ling
Soo’s assistant was a sensation when she toured Australia in 1909 with her
famous husband.
Augusta Pfaff also known as Olive Path, was born around 1863
in Cleveland Ohio. She was a short petite young girl and at an early age worked
in a vaudeville chorus line. From this she met first, magician ,Harry Kellar
and then, magician , Alexander Herrmann.
These men were legendary performers, and Olive, a small statured lady
who stood under five feet tall, was an essential on stage assistant for both.
She was skilled, discreet and deft, all vital characteristics for magic
performance.
Through Herrmann she met William Ellsworth Robinson, a man
who specialised in making magical apparatus. Robinson had ambitions to become a
magician, but lacked charisma on stage.
After seeing a Chinese Magician, Chung Ling Foo, Robinson decided to create an
act capitalising on the fad for all things eastern. He also blatantly stole
some of Foo’s tricks. In a classic example of Orientalism, Robinson became the
‘Chinese’ magician Chung Ling Soo, and Olive, who he nick named ‘Dot’ became
his assistant as Suee Seen, and later, his second wife.
By 1909 . Soo was widely regarded as one of the most skilful
magicians and illusionists in the world. Australian Tivoli Theatre owner, Harry
Rickards, in an amazing coup, managed to persuade the magician and his
assistant, Dot, to tour Australia and New Zealand that year. They were one of
the most successful and popular acts ever presented on the Tivoli Circuit.
Chung Ling Soo decorated his set in elaborate Asian style,
with heavy curtains and oriental accoutrements. His presentation was as Chung
Ling Soo, a man of half Scottish, half Chinese ancestry, although he had no
Chinese ancestry at all. Suee Seen, Dot, did not claim to be Chinese, but
appeared as Mrs Chung Ling Soo, in long robes and plaited hair.
Robinson and Olive had been together for a long time, and
William was a bit of a playboy. In 1907 he met Louise Blatchford and they had a
child together. Dot and William’s relationship was quite strained due to this.
But when they travelled in Australia they mostly appeared together, with Dot
stuck to William’s side.
Olive was an integral part of the Chung Ling Soo phenomenon.
She palmed props, appeared and disappeared at the whim of the magician and
played her role as Mrs Chung Ling Soo to perfection. She also appeared on
several postcards alone as Suee Seen.
In Australia she appeared in almost all the on stage
illusions.
There was the dice trick. A tower of large dice was stacked
on a small table, Chung Ling Soo covered
it, and seconds later, Suee Seen would
appear magically from thin air.
In what Charles Waller called ‘a beautiful illusion’
Suee appeared in a many sided crystal
lantern floating above the stage by a chain, and when covered by a cone she magically
transformed into a blooming orange tree.
In the cauldron illusion, a large pot was placed on stage. The
Magician poured buckets of water, a dead pigeon, rabbits and fowls into it.
Then a fire was lit, the water boiled, steam poured out and from the haze
stepped tiny Suee Seen
Then there was the arrow trick. Chung Ling Soo, hoisted an
arrow attached to a string in a bow. The magician aimed at a target, pulled
back the string, but Suee Seen would run
in front of him, and was accidentally shot with the arrow. The string was seen
running through her stomach from front to back.
In the bullet catching trick. Where the magician would catch
bullets fired from a gun in his teeth and spit them out into a plate, Dot was
responsible for the sleight of hand that ensured the marked bullets appeared in
the right place at the end of the trick
According to a New Zealand newspaper,
When she is not hanging from a hook, she is bouncing from a trap- or being cooked in a cauldron- or changing costume in a moment, in the twinkling of a hook and eye
Dot worked with Soo and Company until a dark night in March
1918 in England. That evening, the bullet catch trick went horribly wrong, and
Chung Ling Soo, magician and pretender died on stage from a bullet wound.
Dot was there that night and stayed by his side as he was
taken to hospital. She was inconsolable when he passed away.
Dot stopped performing. Unfortunately she was barely
remembered in Robinson’s will, inheriting only one third of the estate, the
majority of which went to Louise Blatchford and her children with the magician.
Dot stayed in England until 1922, then moved to the US where
she lived in relative obscurity until her death in 1934
She was originally buried in an unmarked grave. However, an
online campaign led by magic historian Diego Domingo, resulted in her burial place
being recognised in 2016. Today she is
regarded as one of the most famous and skilled magician assistants in history
This three part article on Elimar was inspired by David Cain's short mention here. I want to thank Elimar's daughter, Robyn, for taking the time to chat with me about her father. A lot of the information comes from official documents in the Australian Government Archives and newspaper accounts.
Elimar Clemens Buschmann was born in Cologne Germany on
November 18, 1917, to August Buschmann and Martha Meuller. He was the third and
youngest son of the couple.
When he was 14, just before the Nazis came to power, Elimar
left school, apparently against the wishes of his parents. He later told an
Australian newspaper that he ran away to join the circus.
‘My parents found me already launched on a tight rope
walking career and took me back home. They made me promise never to walk a wire
again. However, when they found how interested I was, they released me from my
promise and facilitated the study I have given to wire walking.’
It seems that Elimar was a wire walker before being a juggler.
He found his first employment locally in Cologne, Dusseldorf and in other towns
close to home, but his first international tour was to Switzerland.
After this he began touring Europe, he claimed to have
performed in France, the United States, and shared beer with the King of
Denmark. In Australia he told the press
an exciting story about an adventure in Budapest where he was abducted and
forced to impersonate a local prince.
‘Once I got used to the idea it was good fun- until a
frantic girl, probably one of the prince’s discards, burst into the palace with
a gun’
Elimar claimed to have been injured by one of the three
shots she fired, but fortunately he survived the ordeal. The journalist reporting this story doubted
its veracity, but enjoyed its telling, proving that Elimar, even at a young
age, was a skilled raconteur.
What is true is that in 1938 he was performing at the
Palladium in London. In January the next year he was back in Germany and
obtaining an exemption from military service from the government. Elimar was
sending money to his parents regularly, and he believed this was the reason the
government gave him an exemption.
He returned to England in 1939. There was lots of war talk
at the time but Elimar, at 22 years old and obsessed with his career, thought
little of it. When performing in London
in April, he was spotted by Australian Frank Neil, who ran the Tivoli circuit.
Neil booked Elimar for an Australian tour at around 50 pounds a week. The fair
haired, 6 foot tall, lightly built young German juggler was on his way to
Australia and was enthusiastic and excited about the adventure.
He left England in August 1939 on the Moloya. It was an
eventful journey. On September 3, whilst Elimar was at sea, England declared
war on Germany and Australia declared war the same day. The next port of call
for the Moloya was Bombay, India, a British Colony, where Elimar and the other
German passengers were interned for three weeks. The internment policy at that
time was quite relaxed, so the internees were released to continue their
journey to Australia after signing a document stating that they would take no
action to harm the British Empire. But
more drama ensued when Elimar got into an argument with a fellow passenger
about lights. Due to war time restrictions, all sea traffic had to travel in
darkness, so there were strict rules about smoking on board and lights in the
cabins. Elimar claimed that he had chastised a refugee for smoking in the open,
while others claimed that Elimar had ignored the order to dim the lights in his
cabin. The facts were disputed, but the German juggler and enemy alien was reprimanded,
and a record was kept of the incident.
He finally arrived in Australia in October 1939. For the first
three weeks he stayed in Melbourne and relaxed, then he appeared on the Tivoli
stage in November. He performed in a revue called, Carry On. The act was very
well received by the Tivoli audience.
He started on the
floor, proving to be a skilled juggler with his feet on the ground, then moved
to a slack wire and astonished the crowd with his abilities. Amongst his feats
were juggling 8 hoops whilst balancing on one leg, and the highlight, standing
on the loose rope, swinging a hoop on one leg, balancing a ball on a stick
suspended from his mouth, and juggling eight hoops at the same time. The
newspapers called him a ‘juggling genius’ and the ‘world’s greatest juggler on
a wire’. His feats were described as ‘truly miraculous’ and he was touted as
being ‘the only man in the world who has achieved what hitherto was termed
impossible.’
He spent five weeks at the Tivoli in Melbourne and six weeks
performing in Sydney. Tragedy struck the Tivoli circuit in January the next
year, when Frank Neil, the man who had hired Elimar, died, and new management
took over the theatre chain. Yet the performances continued. In February 1940
he juggled in Queensland at the Regent Theatre, entertaining between movies, in
March he appeared in South Australia, but it seems his Tivoli contract expired
shortly afterwards.
Elimar was a German alien in an Australia at war. Almost
immediately after war was declared, the Australian authorities had rounded up and
interned known fascists and members of the local Nazi party. Other enemy
aliens, including visitors such as Elimar, were subjected to stringent rules.
He was obliged to inform the authorities when he left the police district or
travelled more than 5 miles from his lodging, was required to visit the local
police station regularly and sign yet another document stating that he would
not do anything detrimental to the British Empire. However, in general, the
Australian government was quite casual about enemy aliens. There was no urgency
to intern them as facilities and money were an issue, and the authorities felt
that their round up of German fascists, who they had been watching for some
time, was sufficient to keep the country secure.
In April 1940, Elimar disobeyed the rules. He was lodging at
the Alexandra Hotel in Melbourne and reporting to the local police station as
required. One Monday after fulfilling his duty he was drinking at the hotel,
when his friend, George Nichols, Australian comedian, and fellow Tivoli performer,
invited him to go to Dimboola to shoot quail. Elimar thought this was a great
idea and spent almost a week in the country with George and a group of Germans,
to whom, on George’s advice, he posed as Danish. They
had an enjoyable trip and went to the annual military ball. However, when
Elimar returned to his hotel in Melbourne that Friday, a detective was waiting
for him. He was arrested and interned at Tatura internment camp for not informing
the authorities of his movements.
He was swiftly released and after paying a 10 pound fine,
was free to perform again.
In May 1940 he was touring Queensland with George Sorlie, a
local vaudevillian and aspiring impresario. Also on the tour were several local
performers including Buddy Morley, who was infatuated with Dawn Butler, a teenager,
who assisted Elimar during his act. They toured the north of Queensland under a
canvas tent and the group was warmly welcomed and applauded every night.
In Brisbane in July, Elimar gave an interview to a local
paper, where he claimed to be Danish, and told the story of being abducted in
Budapest.
That month, Elimar was happily performing with little care
for events in the outside world. But the situation with the Allies had changed,
the phoney war was over, and it was becoming increasingly real to Australians. Germany
had invaded Denmark, and France had signed an armistice with the Nazis. The Allies
situation looked bleak and somebody in the performing arts community did not
think Elimar was fully supporting their effort.
‘Actors’ in the vaudeville community reported him to the
authorities. Apparently Elimar had said ‘you will all be speaking German soon’,
had openly made comments supporting Germany, and was having arguments about the
war with fellow performers. Elimar
subsequently denied these allegations and suggested that professional jealousy
may have caused some ill will. His salary was enormous compared to the wages of
local performers. However, the
authorities decided that there was enough evidence of Nazi sympathies, and he
was detained again.
In July, he was arrested in Brisbane and interned in
Gaythorne internment camp, where he remained until October. From there he was transported to Tatura
internment camp in Victoria. He was to spend the next six years in Tatura as a
prisoner of the Australian government.