Sarah Dadswell

Jugglers, Fakirs, and Jaduwallahs: Indian Magicians and the British Stage
This article offers an historical analysis of the emergence and development of Asian magicians on the British stage. Sarah Dadswell charts the trajectory of this phenomenon from the arrival of the rst recorded Indian magicians in the UK in the early nineteenth century to the internationally renowned gure of P. C. Sorcar in the mid-twentieth century. In doing so, she illustrates the dialogue that took place between East and West, recording the ways in which both sides recognized and adopted the others modes of performance and marketing strategies to suit their needs and satisfy public demand. Sarah Dadswell is Research Fellow to the AHRC-funded project British Asian Theatre at the University of Exeter. This article forms part of the projects investigation into the history and development of modes of performance by Asian theatre practitioners in the UK.

Ask the average man for what India is most celebrated, and chances are ten to one that he will ignore the glories of the Taj Mahal, the benecence of British rule, even Mr. Kipling, and will unhesitatingly reply in one word, Jugglers. Yes, Indias jugglers have been the wonder of India, as well as of that greater India which lies outside its borders and within the British Isles. The Strand Magazine, 18991

WHAT IS KNOWN as the golden era of British magic, from 1880 to 1930, is a period of unprecedented innovation in the creation and performance of magic, when the UK was considered to be the premier international location to learn and perform the art. Magic was performed in a range of venues from street fairs, circuses and pleasure gardens, variety and music halls, to theatres and royal palaces, and by the 1910s formed a constituent part of early lm footage. At the end of the Victorian era presenters of magic broadly fell into two categories, jugglers and conjurors. Jugglers performed sleight-of-hand tricks or legerdemain, and traditionally their reputation was coloured with a tinge of dishonesty or street charlatanism. By contrast, conjurors constituted the new breed of professional magician who exploited technological developments, employing automata and stagecraft to create
ntq 23:1 (february 2007) cambridge university press

grand illusions which, according to the father of modern magic Jean Eugne Robert-Houdin, were wonder-exciting performances: A conjuror is not a juggler; he is an actor playing the part of a magician; an artist whose ngers have more need to move with deftness than speed. 2 At the same time, many leading magicians were at pains to debunk fashionable trends in the occult, necromancy, and the recent fad for Theosophy. Their efforts to expose and distance themselves from fraudsters who advertised the power of the supernatural were designed to enhance their own status as professionals. My opening extract from The Strand Magazine refers to Indian jugglers, not conjurors. It may be that the author has simply misused the term. However, it is more likely the term juggler reected the contemporary British popular perception of the Indian magician as a social inferior, a loinclad street magician or jaduwallah, who performed an allegedly Indian set of tricks, rather than the Indian conjuror who performed westernstyle magic to elite society in full evening dress. Inferior or otherwise, the anonymous Strand journalist testies to the contemporary international reputation enjoyed by Indian magicians, their very existence signifying the wonder of India.
doi: 10.1017/s0266464x06000595

By the late nineteenth century, increased trade and travel between India and the UK had prompted cultural exchanges. However, the stereotypical, colonialist view of Indians and Indian entertainers remained negative. Fact was frequently undermined by myth and ction, so that Indian magicians (and in some cases, Indian peoples in general) were regularly portrayed as genetically inferior, alternating from effeminate subordinates to savage monsters, from mystics and fakirs with supernatural mental and physical powers to merely exotic beings. In the early twentieth century there was a sea change in attitudes to the Indian magician on the British and international stage. Europeans had been cultivating a fashion for the Orient, which the Indian magicians then exploited. Indian magicians introduced new, Indian modes of performance onto the British magic stage that were later taken up by western performers. They were no longer the genie of the lamp or yogic mystic, but instead created and asserted their own identity and canon of aesthetics and tricks. By the middle of the century Indian magicians had adapted to new visual media, such as television, and adopted new marketing strategies to reach wider audiences. A number of them received top international awards for magic, were hailed as national heroes and seen on a par with their western counterparts. In other words, the self-determined Indian magician had come of age. This article will document the historical relationship between magicians of the Indian subcontinent (in particular present-day India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh), their presence on the British stage, and their reception by the public and fellow European and US magicians. In plotting the trajectory from the rst reported Indian magicians to visit the UK in the early nineteenth century to the assertive, professional Indian magician of the midtwentieth century, I hope to illustrate how dialogue between East and West, international competition, and a mutual appreciation of professionalism and entertainment were central to this relationship and the eventual international success of the Indian magician. 4

Early News from the Orient Long before the nineteenth century, reports of Indian jugglers had reached Europe through the published accounts of European travellers to Asia. These included Marco Polo, Friar Odiric, and Sheik Abu-Abdullah Mohamed, more commonly known as Ibn Batuta (The Traveller).3 Such travellers wrote descriptions of the exotic marvels they encountered along the way. They described feats of levitation (of both people and objects), of the cups and balls trick, the mango tree trick, and other wonders. The cups and balls trick was not exclusive to Asia, and was similar to that played at British fairs and inns, where the juggler has three upturned cups and continually passes a small object between them. He does this with such skill that the viewer nds it difcult to know where the moving object is at any one time. The mango tree trick, however, was to become an essential part of the Indian street magician or jaduwallahs performance. Here, the magician gives the impression that he has made a mango tree grow from seed before the audiences very eyes. He uses a bamboo triangular frame with a cloth thrown over it. Each time he removes the cloth, the mango tree appears to have grown a little more, and this may continue until the plant appears to bear fruit. The Mogul Emperor Jehangir, who ruled from 1605 to 1627, recorded similar feats performed by Bengali jugglers in his published memoirs. Although some European visitors to his court denied such feats, in European eyes the East accrued a reputation of awe and wonder, where religious men, fakirs, and magicians possessed supernatural powers and acquired a mythical status.4 The rst half of the nineteenth century witnessed a dramatic change in western perspectives on Indian magic and mysticism. There were two reasons for this: the arrival of Indian magicians in the UK who toured the country to great acclaim;5 and a changing demographic in which urban migration and increased wealth and literacy, besides an emerging concept of leisure across the

RAMO SAMEE
The celebrated East Indian Juggler, who is Re-Engaged at this Theatre for a short Period,

Will go through the Whole of his Extraordinary Feats of Strength and Agility! Viz.
A SERIES of EVOLUTIONS with FOUR HOLLOW BRASS BALLS; SEVERAL FEATS of BALANCING, in which he will introduce the BUILDING A CANOPY WITH HIS TONGUE, on the TOP OF HIS NOSE, and removing the same with surprising Ingenuity. Also, his EXTRAORDINARY EVOLUTION of the BALANCE of BIRDS, he places a TREE on his FOREHEAD; from whence, with the greatest Ease, he SHOOTS them off, by Means of a PEA SHOOTER placed in his MOUTH. The wonderful FEAT with LARGE KNIVES, similar to that of the Balls; SWALLOWING A STONE THE SIZE OF AN EGG, and disposing of the same at pleasure. Also, his Manly Activity in THROWING A LARGE BALL, the Size of an 18lb Shot, to different Parts of his Frame with the greatest ease; he places it between his Feet, and by giving a sudden Spring, throws it over his Shoulder, from whence it alights on the Bend of his Arm, and from thence to several other Parts of his Body; nally, with a masterly Jerk, throws the Ball round his Head without the assistance of his Hands; and several other Achievements too numerous to insert in the Limits of this Bill. He will conclude with the extraordinary Feat of

SWALLOWING A SWORD TWO FEET LONG!

The Whole of the above Surprising Performance will take Place in Front of the

New Splendid Looking Glass Curtain

To explain the Novelty, extraordinary Effect, or expatiate on the beauty of such a Performance, in such a Situation, never before exhibited in any Theatre, would be superuous and unnecessary

Printed paper playbill (b/w, c. 23.8 x 37.7 cm) for the Royal Coburn Theatre, Thursday 10 January 1822. By courtesy of National Fairground Archive, University of Sheffield Library.

classes, led to greater public engagement in entertainment, including advertised magic shows. Public interest in magic had increased with a number of performers gaining notoriety in fairs as well as theatres. Indian magic experienced by Britons in the UK and India during this period was characterized by a strong sense of spectacle, of physical feats, and even a sense of the grotesque. As we shall see, the physicality of the performance made a lasting impression on spectators and fellow entertainers.

The rst well-documented instance of Indian magicians performing in the UK was The Four Surprising Indian Jugglers just arrived in this country from Seringapatam, who, according to Sidney Clarke, rst performed at 23 New Bond Street, London, in December 1815, then at 222 Piccadilly, before embarking on a national tour.6 Ramo Samee and Kia Khan Khruse were key gures in the group, and both later developed solo acts. These jugglers quickly became household names, and established the identity and 5

inuenced the reception of later Indian magicians in the UK. A number of playbills surviving from these early performances emphasize the physicality of the performance.7 This colourful superhuman physical element was incorporated into the acts of later South Asian magicians and added yet another exoticized layer to the already reied western perspective of the East. The Indians Are Coming At the time of Ramo Samee, scant discrimination existed within programmes between physical feats and sleight-of-hand or great illusions. The excerpt on the previous page from the playbill of the 1822 performance at the Royal Coburn Theatre, London, not only communicates the spectacular feats (which include knives, feats of balancing, and sword swallowing) but does so in front of the New Splendid Looking Glass Curtain. The audience is therefore invited to enjoy the double spectacle of the performance combined with new equipment, an association of magic and modern technology which continues to the present day. One particular local juggler was captivated by Samees performance: One night I went to the theatre and there I see Ramo Samee doing his juggling, and in a minute I forgot all about the tumbling, and only wanted to do as he did. 8 Interestingly it was not only the tricks that this man eventually copied, but also Samees costume:
I used to have a bag and bit of carpet, and perform in streets. I had [an] Indians dress made, with a long horse-hair tail down my back, and white bag-trousers, trimmed with red, like a Turks, tied right round at the ankles, and a esh-coloured skull-cap. My coat was what is called a Turkish y in red velvet, cut off like a waist-coat, with a peak before and behind. I was a regular swell, and called myself the Indian Juggler.

In fact Henry Mayhew, who recorded this biography, notes how the Samee protg was so successful that Samee paid him not to perform in the same town with him. If the jugglers story is true, it is testament to Samees success and the inuence he had on 6

the development of British performers. It is also evidence of the strategy of appropriation used by local jugglers to cope with the success and competition of visiting Indian performers, a strategy regularly employed at the turn of the twentieth century. Let us take a moment to consider two aspects of this bona de Indian jugglers performance: costume and mode of magic. Mayhews local juggler was obviously aware of the importance of Samees authentic Indian costume and the inuence it had in the overall success of the performance that is, the audiences willingness momentarily to suspend their disbelief and allow themselves to be drawn into the Indian narrative. The fact that the local juggler had meticulously reproduced an authentic costume conrms this. The many portraits of Samee that were in circulation at the time reect the publics interest in him. The picture of Samee (reproduced opposite) on the cover of the February 1938 issue of the US magic journal The Sphinx depicts a lively, theatrical scene, with a condent performer at its centre. Samee performs a version of the cups and balls trick under the gaze of three onlookers, one of whom is smoking a hookah. The exotic nature of the scene is reinforced by the depiction of Asian costumes and jutis (pointed shoes with curled up toes) and the seemingly ying snake. John Mulholland suggests that the artist was possibly inuenced by rumour and displaced the carved stick (which functioned as a wand) with the ying snake.9 I would add that the artist might equally have used the ying snake for purely theatrical effect. The picture suggests that the unprecedented success these Indian jugglers enjoyed was a result not only of their magic, but also of the exotic, theatrical, and condent nature of the performance as a whole. The same picture communicates a sense of authenticity: here are actual Indian jugglers performing Indian tricks. It is a question of the mode of magic employed. As I have noted, the cups and balls trick was already commonplace in England at the time. Samees costume and choice of trick, however, mark him out as a jaduwallah, rather than an Indian

Supposed to be Ramo Samee, The Sphinx, Vol. XXXVI, No. 12 (February 1938), p. 1.

performing western-style magic. Jaduwallahs were to be (and continue to be) found throughout India. Although the tricks may vary, the jaduwallah typically works in open spaces, streets, parks, fairs, and festivals, as a travelling entertainer. He wears a dhoti or loincloth, and carries his props in a bag, which he spreads out over a piece of cloth in preparation for his performance. As a travelling showman, he needs to attract his custom, and so is frequently heard banging his drum. The magic performed by jaduwallahs is generally passed down from generation to generation, and is typically (although not exclusively) performed by Muslims. It is generally, but again not exclusively, the work of men. The stock tricks of the jaduwallah include the mango tree trick, cups and balls, the Indian rope trick, and the basket trick, which we shall come to presently.

Traditionally, entertainment is frequently on offer during the period of religious festivals in India. That said, one must not confuse the jaduwallahs magic with that of the Brahmins (high-caste Hindus) and other individuals who have performed physical feats such as hanging from butchers hooks inserted into the esh of their backs and being paraded about the town.10 Such feats represent a different type of local belief, specically related to religion. The Emergence of the Professional Towards the end of the nineteenth century there also existed a growing body of professional Indian magicians. Although these magicians took some tricks from the jaduwallahs bag, they tended to perform westernstyle conjuring, making use of automata and stagecraft to produce grand illusions. They 7

were typically middle-class Hindus or Parsis, wore full evening dress, and played for a set fee to private or select audiences, including British officials of high status and royalty. Although rumoured to have been accidentally shot by Samee during a trick in Dublin in 1818, a playbill shows that Kia Khan Khruse was later scheduled to appear in Brighton in May of the same year, performing the most astonishing feats ever witnessed in Europe!! According to Edwin Dawes, Khruse became so notorious he was featured under the letter K in an alphabetic [childrens] Arabian Nights with the formidable title of aldiborontophoskyphorniostikos . . . around 1820. He also argues a link between a performance by Khruse in York in 1816 and the magical act of the writer Charles Dickens, under his nom de thtre of Ria Rhama Roos.11 Even in these early days, the presence of Indian jugglers in the UK was not the sole source of information relating to Indian magic. Various written accounts of magical feats performed in India were published in the UK. Prominent among the magical feats was a form of levitation that was popular in Madras in South India. Thomas Frost writes of an old Brahmin who levitated, allegedly aided only by a plank of wood, a little brass socket, and a piece of bamboo. Sheshal, the Brahmin of the Air, repeated the trick in 1832, apparently aided by a number of concealed iron rods.12 Although less well-documented, the Rev. Hobart Caunters account of the Indian basket trick highlights another element of the Christian Westerners perception of the Indian character. In performing the trick, the magician displays a large empty basket (usually round) to the audience, into which he places a second person, who is sometimes rst put in a large net. The person disappears into the basket and the lid is closed. The magician then takes a sword and repeatedly drives it through the basket. Obviously, the audience fear for the victim closed within. The trick concludes with the magician opening the basket to reveal its empty state and the miraculous appearance of the person, often located in the assembled audience. 8

The Indian basket trick became so famous that it has since been performed by numerous internationally renowned magicians. What is striking about Caunters account of this Indian scene is the grotesque manner in which the trick was performed, the repulsion that he and others felt during the trick, and the real fear he experienced for the life inside the basket. Caunter described the little girl placed in the basket as a model for a cherub, and scarcely darker than a child of southern France. Then to his horror, ignoring the childs pleas for mercy:
The juggler seized a sword . . . and to my absolute consternation and horror, plunged it through, withdrawing it several times, and repeating the plunge with all the blind ferocity of an excited demon. . . . The shrieks of the child were so real and distracting that they almost curdled for a few moments the whole mass of my blood: my rst impulse was to rush upon the monster, and fell him. . . . The blood ran in streams from the basket; the child was heard to struggle under it; her groans fell horridly upon the ear; her struggles smote painfully upon the heart.13

Caunters description of the little girl blurred the usual colonialist boundary between the inferior Indian and the superior European, as evidenced in his heart-wrenching reaction to the trick. Christian visitors to India had long condemned the magic of jaduwallahs. This image of the Indian as savage monster, and then fakir or miracle worker as the child later emerged unharmed, may have fed the British publics prejudices concerning the seemingly godless Indian nature. By the 1830s further visual portrayals of the life and nature of South Asians were witnessed through the growing popularity of dioramas and panoramas. Robert Wood describes this visual medium as both instructive and accessible to a broad section of the public. Two popular shows were Overland Route to India and Indian Mutiny.14 During the same period a number of western magicians (that is, from Europe, North America, Australia, and New Zealand) began to tour Asia, thereby encouraging a dialogue between East and West. For example, in the 1840s the ruler of the Ottoman Empire, Sultan

Abdul Aziz, frequently employed Compars Hermann, probably the most successful international magician of the mid-nineteenth century, paying him an astonishing thousand pounds in Turkish currency for each performance.15 Mid-Nineteenth Century: Fakirs or Fakers? The popularity of Indian magicians in the UK in the mid-1800s was reected in the subtle process of orientalization that was taking place: a growing number of western magicians were appropriating Indian or Asian styles of dress, magic, and vaguely Asiansounding stage names. Undoubtedly British cultural awareness of India was growing, not only through its ourishing trade, increased British governance, and record numbers of British men and women settling in India, but also through the greater numbers of Indian visitors to the UK, including students of law and medicine. During this period, it is difficult to know whether the magic entertainment market was performer- or audience-led, but what is noticeable is the number of western magicians who impersonated their Asian counterparts. Eliza Cook wrote:
On the stages in the front of the booths, Indian princes and Spanish monarchs strut in ctitious diamonds and brazen spangles until the eyes of the infant populace ached in gazing at them. Sundry pennies and halfpennies carefully hoarded up for the occasion are expended upon these indefatigable caterers for the public amusement.16

Cook suggests an alternative portrait of the Indian showman to that in Mayhews account. She portrays Indian princes, resplendent in colourful, decorative costume and fake jewels, no doubt corresponding to the vivid British imagination of the opulent Maharajahs and their empires. Her description reinforces the fact that appropriation of magic alone would not satisfy British audiences: what they craved was the colourful, theatrical display of Indian exoticism. Colonel Stodare (Joseph Stoddart) rst appeared in 1865 at the Egyptian Hall in London, a venue which later became synonymous with the very best of British magic

and associated with the Maskelyne dynasty of magicians. Although billed as a Frenchman, Stodare performed the Indian basket trick and the growth of owers trick, a variation of the mango tree trick. His show was so successful that by 16 October of the same year he had delivered his two hundredth consecutive performance. According to David Price, he received the support of the Prince of Wales in June 1865 and entertained the Royal Family in Windsor Castle that autumn.17 Although we are specically concerned with Indian magicians, authentic or otherwise, the stereotypical, orientalist British perspective upon the East or Orient was not particularly discerning and rarely respected national, cultural, or geographical boundaries. As a consequence the British audience could be satised with almost any interpretation of the East, with depictions of the exotic, the extravagant, and the unknown which might have originated anywhere from Turkey, Egypt, the Middle East, or India, to Indonesia or China. This resulted in a continual blurring of the denition of Indian magic.18 Alfred Sylvester is an example of the generic Oriental. Although he performed two separate acts under different names the Fakir of Oolu, and Hadji Mahommed Salib and his beautiful entranced Persian Princess he used the same luxurious, highly decorative costume, suggestive of a Turkish/Middle Eastern-style, for both acts.19 The increased travel of well-known western magicians to India was another phenomenon that marked the years leading up to the golden era of magic. In addition to a naturally adventurous spirit, it is most likely that the western entertainers wanted to experience the enigma of India and the magical performances on offer at rst hand. Philip Anderson, for example, toured India on a number of occasions between 1871 and 1898.20 Albert Tiltman toured India in 1875. Upon his return to the UK he performed stock Indian street tricks such as cremation (see page 14, below), and the sand and water trick, often known as the coloured sands.21 The coloured sands trick involves the magi9

cian placing his hand in a bowl of water with sand in the bottom. He seemingly withdraws handfuls of sand at the request of the audience and then blows the sand from his hand. He gives the audience a choice of colours to choose from, and the colour of the blown sand changes accordingly. One of the most famous magicians to visit India during this time was the American Harry Kellar. After an extensive national Indian tour, he arrived in Southampton in July 1878. Given Kellars high status on the international magic scene, his experience in India would have had far-reaching consequences, ranging from the styles of magic performed to personal anecdotes about the sub-continent and its peoples. Of course, during this period Indian magicians continued to visit the UK,22 and the European gaze, in turn, was drawn to India. As ever, it was the jaduwallahs rather than Indian society magicians whom the Europeans sought out, a trend evidenced in my opening extract from The Strand. The Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII, was entertained by Indian magicians in Bombay and Madras during a royal visit in 1875.23 News of these performances would have been circulated among the press, and undoubtedly encouraged the fashion for Indian magicians in the UK in the higher echelons of society. The association between magicians and the court is an international phenomenon which dates back centuries, and it is worth noting that the association in India was no different. The Golden Era Dawns The seminal publication in 1876 by Professor Hoffman of Modern Magic and in 1877 of Edwin Sachss Sleight of Hand ushered in the golden era of British magic, when the art of magic ourished in the UK and magicians received unprecedented fees and played to full auditoria across the country. The work of Hoffman and Sachs fed the public imagination and provided a mine of information for amateur magicians in the era before formalized magic societies, magazines, and conventions. These timely publications also 10

coincided with the growing Victorian interest in automata and scientic research on the one hand, and a continuing interest in the occult on the other. In the rst phase of the golden era, before the outbreak of the First World War, magical activity in the UK and India was directed towards the creation of the rst magic societies and journals with international contributions. There were further book publications, with more training for amateur magicians and an increase of travel by magicians between India and the West in both directions. Indian magic acts by non-Indians in the UK increased, alongside a number of playlets that included magic. Most notably, there was the advent of lm, which incorporated a magic element. This affordable and spectacular medium of entertainment attracted large audience numbers, thereby facilitating even greater public exposure to magic. During the same period the fashion for exoticism and the Orient grew throughout Europe and was evident across the arts from literature to interior dcor.24 It is in this broad context that the popularity of the Asian magician in the UK continued to ourish. In India, Professor S. C. Ghosh25 was cofounder in 1882 of the Friends Necromantic Association in Calcutta, a forerunner of the Indian Magicians Club and the earliest known magic club in India (only preceded internationally by the French Socit Philomagique, founded in Paris in 1820). The appellation necromantic carries overtones of the popular interest in the occult which had existed in some circles, certainly in Europe, since the late sixteenth century. The early formalization of Indian magicians took place in Calcutta and Bombay. Both were centres of the British Raj administration, and I would argue that the term necromantic reects the dominant European inuence and culture imposed by the presence of the Raj. It appears to be a particularly western-centric concept suited to the Christian psyche, as the attitude to death, an afterlife, and spirituality in Hinduism, Sikhism, and even in the monotheistic Islam is quite different to that of western Christianity. It is only natural that the associations name

Masthead of Mahatma, Vol I, No. 1 (March 1895), p. 1.

later changed to the more neutral and professional Indian Magicians Club.26 The emerging centres of magic in Calcutta and Bombay nurtured the talents of Indian magicians, including R. H. Gawariker and Professor Nathu Manchhachand. Other Indian magicians toured nationally and internationally and were to appear on the front cover of western magic journals. To take two examples, Sayad Hassan of Hyderabad and Belaya Nimmaya Hassan from Dharwar both played London venues in 1886 but, in contrast to their colleagues from Bombay, performed the more spectacular, exotic, and acrobatic tricks of the jaduwallah.27 The gradual advent of magic journals provided another international medium through which Indian magicians could self-publicize or gain notoriety. The rst magic journal was Mahatma, which was founded in 1895 and published in New York. The title and header reproduced above conrm the association and visibility of South Asians (including pseudo-Asian acts) and magic on the world stage. The drama masks that bite onto the two upper corners of the scroll header with cursive title communicate the familiar, theatrical nature of magic. The term Mahatma was synonymous with fakir, a man of supernatural powers, and India herself was even referred to as Mahatma Land by the self-styled White Mahatma, Professor Samri S. Baldwin.28 A man of indeterminate nationality, possibly a pauper, is seated behind the titles scroll with his legs outstretched. However, the most

signicant feature is the Indian magic scene incorporated into the top left of the header. An old jaduwallah clothed only in a turban and dhoti is seated cross-legged as he beats his ubiquitous drum, facing a dancing forktongued cobra with his traditional staff to hand. Although the cover of this rst edition of the rst magic journal carries an article and enigmatic portrait of Robert-Houdin, the Father of Modern Magic, the viewer is in no doubt that magic and mystery also lie elsewhere, further East. Two other front-page articles in western magic journals reveal the two faces of Indian magic (adopted western- and native maharajah-style magic) and its reception in the West. Professor Ahmad, Court Magician, appears in the December 1904 issue of Magic. The journal is billed as the only paper in the British Empire devoted solely to the interests of Magicians, Jugglers, Hand Shadowists, Ventriloquists, Lightning Cartoonists and Speciality Entertainers, and was edited by Ellis Stanyon.29 Although Stanyons Magic (as the journal is frequently referred to) was a key magic journal of this era, it should be noted that individuals could pay to be on the front page, thereby creating an excellent piece of self-promotion.30 Ahmad is described as a drawing-room magician who is not prone to the ights of fancy associated with the fakir (i.e., jaduwallah), but excels in western magic. His portrait shows a small-framed neat man in a three-piece suit and plain Muslim hat. In addition, the article emphasizes Ahmads 11

Two faces of Professor Alvaro in The Wizard. Left: from the title page, August 1908. Right, April 1907.

social status. His father was a magistrate and Ahmads recommendations, which reinforce his reputation, include Lord Curzon, Baron of Kedleston, Viceroy and Governor General of India. The author adopts a somewhat colonialist tone, presenting Ahmad as a man of good stock and, although an Indian, a professional of good character and social status. The second front-page biography is that of Professor Alvaro in the August 1908 issue of The Wizard, An Illustrated Monthly Journal for Conjurers, Concert Artistes, and all Entertainers, conducted by Geo[rge] MacKenzie Munro and Official Organ of the Magic Circle.31 The portrait of Alvaro (above, left) accompanying the brief biography is an iconic image of a man in prole dressed in elaborate robes, wearing a turban and bedecked in pearls and other jewellery. The effect is reminiscent of a maharajah and was copied, to some degree, by a large number of Indian magicians that followed. However, the text informs the reader that despite the elaborate costume, Indias pic12

turesque magical entertainer . . . who is at present on a visit to Great Britain, entirely connes his attention to western as distinct from Oriental magic, and has proven his skill before the Magic Circle. So why did Alvaro adopt this costume if presenting western magic, particularly given the portrait of him printed in an earlier issue of the same journal (April 1907). In this image (above, right), Alvaro has shed the maharajah look in favour of full evening costume and top hat, the trademark of western magicians. His appearance thus reinforced his western-style magic. It is fair to suggest that by adopting the maharajah-style robes Alvaro was seeking, like his predecessors, to create a recognizable image that singled him out from the western crowd, and the article in The Wizard is likely to have been a well-crafted piece of selfpromotion.32 After all, aspiring to the style and standards of western magic in India is one thing, but such a routine in the UK could easily be interpreted as a poor impersonation of the real thing. Rather than regurgitating

western magic already familiar to his audience, Alvaro created a performance based on the popular myth of the Indian magician. The maharajah-style costume constituted the Indian equivalent of the western evening costume, with a bejewelled turban replacing the top-hat. A new aesthetic had been introduced to the western audience. The opulence of the costume suggested authority and wealth and, no doubt, sparked fantasy in the audiences imagination. More importantly, this costume distinguished Alvaro from the reputation of his jaduwallah social inferiors in the eyes of his fellow European magicians. Through this theatrical strategy, Alvaro was reinforcing Robert-Houdins concept of a magician being an actor, playing the role of a magician. The notion was reformed in the edicts set out by Nevil Maskelyne and David Devant in their 1911 publication on the art of magic:
The magician must use artistry and modes of performance in order to dazzle the audience and entertain them. . . . His ability to hold the attention of an audience, almost whatever the level of competition for their attention, is evidence of the true artist within the magician. Any failure to maintain the audiences attention points to absences in his performance.33

Great Britain and Europe before working in the US as Ram Bhuj and then returned to the UK to very positive reviews.36 Christophers description of Dutts performances with one of the most lavishly staged acts of the period communicates the very Indian context of the performance, its mixture of mysticism and spectacle, and choice of traditional Indian tricks:
Curtains opened on a dimly lit stage. A weird temple setting could be seen through an entranceway in a painted mountain. A torchbearer ran out from the wings and darted through the gap in the mountain to light an altar in the temple. The mountain scenery went up to reveal a chamber with gilded elephants at the sides and a curtained platform at the back. Silken folds were drawn aside. The turbaned magician sat cross-legged on a cushion, surrounded by attendants. A dancing girl amused him and the audience, then his magic props were rolled forward. He arose . . .

Linga Singh and Dadasahib Phalke According to the esteemed American magician Milbourne Christopher, the most colourful of the Indian magicians who performed in Occidental variety was Linga Singh.34 The magicians real name was A. N. Dutt, and over three decades he performed under the stage names of Ishmael, Ram Bhuj, and Linga Singh, with the variants of Linga Singh, Indian Fakir or Hindu Fakir.35 His success was certainly aided by the lasting international reputation of the great and authentic Chinese act Ching Ling Foo (Chee Ling Qua) and the recent phenomenon of the pseudoChinese act Chung Ling Soo (or plain William Robinson). Dutt, like many middle-class Indians of this era, had been sent to Edinburgh to study medicine, but had instead joined the dance troupe of Ruth St Denis. He travelled in

When, after a long career working in major venues in the UK, the US, and across Europe, Dutt died in 1937, in a nal ourish of selfpublicity all his stage properties were burnt, in accordance with his nal request. Indian magicians were not simply theatrical entertainers. Like their European counterparts Georges Mlis and David Devant, they played a crucial role in the emerging lm technology. Whilst the magicians Philip Anderson and the American Carl Hertz had previously toured India with a lm projector, it was the professional Indian magician Dadasahib Phalke (Dhundiraj Govind Phalke) who founded the Indian lm industry in 1913 by creating the rst Indian feature lm Rajah Harischandra (King Harischandra), depicting aspects of the life of the Hindu god Lord Krishna. The lm was a phenomenal success, and according to Eric Barnouw and S. Krishnaswamy it helped to secure the funding for around one hundred lms that Phalke produced and directed before his retirement in 1931. These authors explain Phalkes success in terms of his ability to reach new Indian spectators. His audience was rarely the Englishspeaking community who attended new western lms and read English-language newspapers. The new Indian audience app13

ears to have made an immediate connection with the religious content of Phalkes early lm, which featured stories taken from the epics Ramayana and Mahabharata. Phalke, like Mlis, was an expert in special effects, a factor that no doubt contributed to the spectacle of his lms. In one short lm, Professor Kelphas Magic, he even performed as a magician.37 Beating the Indian at his Own Game How did western magicians cope with this sudden inux of successful South Asian competitors?38 Some denounced the Indian magicians as impostors and charlatans, denigrating the concept of Indian magic; others appropriated Indian magic, dress, and oriental-sounding names, incorporating them into their own magic routine (as Mayhews juggler had done in the early 1800s), including magical playlets. Others adopted a different approach and travelled to India to learn directly from the Indians. In his recent exploration of the history of the Indian rope trick, Peter Lamont captures the essence of this mixed response: The ambiguity surrounding the legend was fuelled in part by a sceptical [western] amateur conjuror who claimed that the rope trick could not be performed, and professional [western] conjurors who wanted to give the impression that they could perform it. 39 Indian magicians had created a new market within magic and entertainment, and fuelled the increasing fashion for all things oriental. Western magicians were forced to respond to this new market. Professional western conjurors were acutely aware that they did not possess the most vital ingredient of the Indian spectacle that is, they themselves did not originate from the mystic East and were not, essentially, exotic beings. However, in order to maintain their place in the entertainment industry, they had to adapt to the changing circumstances. This keen business sense spawned a mass of pseudo-Asian acts. So Carl Hertz, Howard Thurston, and David Devant all performed versions of the Indian rope trick; Harry Houdini (Ehrich 14

Weiss) performed the needle trick;40 Nevil Maskelyne and Harry Kellar performed levitation; Adelaide Herrmann toured a show Hindoo Magic; Harry Thurston (Howards brother) performed a show called Mysteries of India;41 and Carter the Great (Charles Joseph Carter) was regularly seen in his illtting, turbaned Indian garb. The fact that non-Indians could perform such iconic Asian tricks as the basket trick on stage should have demystied the fakir with his supernatural powers in British eyes, but myth is frequently more resilient than fact. The magician, ever the master of patter, emphasized his Indian roots by invoking tales of meetings with fakirs or rst-hand experience of Indian magic. In their instructive performance manuals, western magicians advised performers to allude to direct experience of the Mystic East, the witnessing of a troupe of East Indian Fakirs, or contriving to work the conversation round to . . . the feats performed by Indian magicians.42 Emulating Oriental Magic The success of the Indian magician in the UK evidently injured the pride of certain western magicians. In contrast to the professional magicians who understood the market and the need to recreate Indian tricks in order to further their own successful careers the if you cant beat them, join them strategy another body of magicians made it their mission to denounce Indian magicians, their magic, and frequently the Indian people themselves. Cynically, one might argue that such magicians embarked upon this strategy because they were unable to fathom the real solutions to the Indian tricks themselves. A range of pamphlets and books was published that allegedly explained the trickery behind the magic of the jaduwallah. Such publications generally took the form of listing and explaining a given set of tricks, as in Hereward Carringtons Hindu Magic: an Expos of the Tricks of the Yogis and Fakirs of India.43 The list of Indian tricks included: the Indian basket trick; the mango tree trick; Indian cups and balls; coloured sands; the Indian rope trick; the dancing duck (where a

duck placed in a bowl of water appears to dip and dive according to the jaduwallahs wishes); buried alive (where the jaduwallah is buried in the earth and appears to be able to survive in such conditions for an extended period of time); cremation (where a fakir is apparently burnt alive, but then reappears alive and well); water of India (which involves a never-ending overowing jug of water); dancing cobras (the familiar act of a cobra allegedly swaying to the music of a jaduwallahs ute); and many other tricks. Ironically, this act was counter-productive because each time a western magician reiterated the same range of tricks, he reinforced and advertised a recognizable canon of Indian magic. Jean Hugard, however, understood the new reality and market for Indian magic, and advised the following:
Instead of decrying the tricks of the Indian jugglers it would be better for many magicians if they studied the modes of presentation by which these performers succeed in making the onlookers believe they have witnessed [a] miracle.44

Many made it their business to expose Indian magicians as charlatans, and in 1882 the Society for Psychical Research was founded to investigate scientically alleged psychic and spiritualist phenomena.47 This became a key body contracted by a number of institutions, including the BBC, to investigate so-called supernatural phenomena. Making Drama out of Magic David Devant and Nevil and J. N. Maskelyne initiated an alternative, theatrical and subtle appropriation of Indian magic between 1894 and 1915 in the form of the so-called magic play. The history of magical plays in the modern magic era might be said to begin in 1865 with J. N. Maskelynes rst magic sketch, La Dame et la Gorilla.48 But, of course, the link between magic and drama can be traced further back, through Elizabethan times and the legend of Dr Faustus to Roman, Greek, and Egyptian tales and beyond. The DevantMaskelyne plays were written and devised by the three magicians, who would generally take the leading roles, which required a magicians skill. In short, a crude narrative was used to give sketchy context to a number of tricks and grand illusions. When the script of the play was then published the copyright functioned as a type of patent for the actual tricks. At least seven plays during this period either included Indian or South Asian characters, or recognized traditional Indian magic. Modern Witchery was the rst, performed 6 August 1894, and including the Astral Appearance and Levitation of Koot Hoomi during The Mystery of Lhasa.49 The Mascot Moth was reviewed by Stanyons Magic in July 1906.50 The magic apart, the review describes a lame narrative that takes place at Col. Passmores bungalow in Rajpoor. Devant played the Colonels nephew who gambles his money away, and Henri Hermann took the role of Munga, an Indian juggler. The contrast between the characters could not be more striking, and today, the portrayal of Munga seems offensive. Despite the fact that his magic saves the day, he is neither thanked nor respected by his English mas15

A number of magicians, writers, and entertainers challenged anyone who stated they could perform the Indian rope trick. The trick involves a man (magician or fakir) who throws into the air a rope which remains upright and continues to rise. Someone climbs the rope until he vanishes. The rope then collapses onto the ground and with it falls the dismembered body of the vanished person. The trick is completed when the magician or fakir restores the fallen man to his former, live, and complete self. Major L. H. Branson, a minor western magician, offered three hundred pounds to see the trick performed, and published this challenge on the cover of his book Indian Conjuring in 1922; David Devant offered a salary at the rate of 5,000 a year to any man who can perform the rope trick as described in the legend; Charles Bertrams offer of 500 to anyone who could perform the trick, made on a visit to India in 1899, lay unclaimed, as did the 10,000 offered by Lord Lonsdale;45 and much later Cyril Bertram Mills offered the same 10,000 to see the trick performed at Olympia, London.46

ters, and speaks a parodied, pidgin English. Thus, asked whether he needs more light, he replies, Munga no conjure in the dark, plenty light. 51 Whilst the magicians involved may not have openly denounced Indian magicians in public, the aesthetics of this performance and the portrayal of the Indian as inferior and secondary to the elite but weakwilled English characters reinforce the prevailing prejudiced perspective. The relationship between Indian magic and drama is still current in todays theatre. As recently as 2004 and 2005 the actor and professional magician Arif Javed performed magic in two productions by the Tara Arts company: Mandragora, King of India and The Genie of Samarkand. Both productions were set in centuries past. The audience delighted in the colourful spectacle of Javeds magical performance and it would seem that their reaction to his playful character, coupled with his delivery of magic, is testament to the fact that the character of the jaduwallah is alive and kicking in the British psyche today. During the golden era of magic, then, professional western magicians picked up on the new market of Indian magic, as created by the Indian magicians themselves, and used it to their advantage. Western magicians continued to tour India and the South Asian magicians continued to entertain British audiences. These included Mudaliyar Amarasekara of Dodanduwa from Ceylon, who made his magic debut in 1916, and in 1946 won the British Ring Trophy, awarded under the auspices of the International Brotherhood of Magicians (IBM).52 The Indian Magician Hits the Big Time Until the 1930s the story of the Indian magician in the UK, as documented here, has been expressed in terms of British infrastructure, ideology, and standards of magic, with the Indians persisting in their quest to establish a credible, recognizable identity for the British audiences, whilst simultaneously striving to develop their international professional reputation and links with other international magicians. In the period directly following the golden era, Indians surprised 16

British audiences yet again. They took advantage of new media and negotiated their way into early television showings in order to reach even greater numbers of spectators. National reputations could be created overnight and brought instant fame to a lucky performer. This period culminates in the arrival of P. C. Sorcar in 1956, and marks a dening moment in Indian and international history of magical performance. Following in the footsteps of his predecessors and contemporaries, Sorcar attained unprecedented international fame. Not only was he a showman of exceptional skill and panache, creating new acts and dazzling his audiences, but he also possessed good business acumen and understood the need to dene his personality and his act through various strategies of marketing, networking, and publishing. His success meant that he was no longer considered inferior to his international counterparts, but rather earned the respect of magicians worldwide as reected in the international awards bestowed upon him. The success of Indian magicians in the UK in the 1930s can be explained, in part, by the increasing domestic support they were receiving. The rst Indian magic journal with international contributions was The Indian Magician, founded in 1932, and edited by Dr K. B. Lele with the frequent co-editorship of Professor Bharat-Kumar. Although the journal was initially printed as a bilingual publication, in English and Marathi, in Pune, near Bombay, it soon converted to English alone in order to accommodate the much-valued foreign contributions. The journal attracted articles and encouraged comments from many well-known western magicians, including Ellis Stanyon. The Indian Magician communicated magic news between India and the West. It advertised the story of how the newspaper The Times of India had offered ten thousand rupees to anyone who could successfully perform the Indian rope trick and that the London Committee of the Magic Circle had also offered ve hundred guineas to the same end.53 In addition, the journal supported the many Indian magicians who were per-

forming abroad at the time, including Prof. Duke/Kuda Bux, Prof. Gian, Ahmed Hussain, Prof. Amar, Prof. Shah, Eddie Joseph (Calcutta), and Gogia Pasha.54 Similarly, the journal covered performances by visiting western magicians, such as Carter the Great in Pune, in February 1936.55 Although the editors repeatedly stated their wish to cultivate an internationally recognized journal, and without doubt looked to the West for inspiration, they were aware of their fragile status within the global magic market. The editors continually stressed the need for more magic tuition and publications in a number of Indian languages in order to invest in the development of their national art. One article by B. S. Chaudhary demonstrates his acute eye for the international magic market and the reception of Indian magicians both by their own and western audiences. Chaudhary states that rather than attempting the English pattern and style of doing things, the Indian magician must adopt all the pose of a superman with mysterious powers . . . . In addition, in order to make a more spectacular impression, he should dress in elaborate, Arab-style costume and employ apparatus with pictures and gures of strange and superstitious beings and imaginary beasts that would ll a mans mind with awe. His reference to Arabstyle costume rather than explicitly Indian costume shows Chaudharys understanding of the attraction of western audiences to a rather loose denition of the East.56 From the 1930s onwards, Indian jugglers, acrobats, trapeze artists, and animal trainers became more visible on the circus stage and as time passed and technology progressed they also appeared on television.57 Although not strictly magic, the publics fascination with these allied arts inevitably contributed to the general perspective of South Asians as people with extraordinary physical and mental powers, or exotic Others. The wonder of Indian circus performers, particularly those who handled animals, was reinforced through a plethora of childrens books.58 Non-Indian circus acts adopted the same strategies. For example, Bertram Mills was very taken with an act called Koringa,

animal trainer and female fakir, who stated in her publicity that she was a native of India, born in 1915 in Bikaner, orphaned at the age of three and raised by fakirs. In fact she was a Frenchwoman, Rene Bernard, from Bordeaux. She wore short costumes of animal print, used snakes and crocodiles in her act, and performed physical feats including walking barefoot on broken glass and up a ladder of sword blades, and being buried alive unharmed.59 The Impact of Television The introduction of television into British homes altered the way in which all visual entertainment was received in the UK. Just as the rst lms had been made by magicians and included magic, so the rst outside live broadcast by the BBC was bound up with it. In 1935 Harry Price, then President of the University of London Council For Psychical Investigation, came across a young Indian from Kashmir, Kuda Bux (Khuda Bakhsh), also known as The Man with the X-Ray Eyes, the Kashmir Mystic, and Professor K. B. Duke. Price had been interested in the feat of re-walking that is, walking barefoot across hot coals. In 1935 he was approached by Bux, who later demonstrated, under Prices conditions, that he could walk barefoot across the glowing embers of a re and without any preparation to his feet. In 1937 Price repeated the experiment, this time under much more controlled and hotter conditions and with a different visiting Indian magician, Ahmed Hussain from Cawnpore. This was lmed by the BBC on 9 April 1937 at Carshalton. Further trials were held on 20 April with Hussain and Reginald Adcock in the grounds of Alexandra Palace. As Price writes, this was the rst outside actuality feature ever to be televised in the UK. The photograph of the event that appeared in The Times shows Hussains choice of costume for the occasion. He wore the formal sherwani and turban, the established costume of the professional Indian magician. This iconic image of a colourful, theatrical Indian magician contrasts sharply with the BBC employees and journalists who surround him.60 17

This page and opposite: two sides of a yer for a performance of The Great Gogia Pasha: World's Greatest Magician. The Magic Circle, London.

Kuda Buxs great contemporary was the grand gure of Gogia Pasha, who actually learnt his magic in the UK from a western magician.61 His recorded performances in the UK date to 1937 at the Sheffield Regent and the Granville, Walham Green. His reviews are positive, as ever tending toward the patronizing, with a reference to his dusky helper (an allusion to his Indian assistant), but appreciative of the magicians true skill.62 A year later he played to capacity audiences at The Palace Theatre, Blackpool, several times a day and continued to perform in the UK into the 1970s.63 One factor in his success was his air for amboyant and 18

spectacular advertising. Reproduced here are two sides of a yer, possibly dating from the 1940s. Even though the yer aspires to certain norms within the international design of magic posters (with particular resonance to Carter the Greats marketing materials), its design is so individual, lively, and theatrical that it represents the very essence of Chaudharys earlier edict that Indian magicians need to inspire awe and wonder, and dress in elaborate, Arab-style costume. Gogia Pashas poster is both informative and inviting. Firstly, the picture is dominated by the enigmatic and bejewelled portrait of the magician, wearing the now standard

maharajah-style luxurious robes and turban. He is surrounded by depictions of his most famous tricks, including levitation, blindfolded sight, sawing a woman in half (where a woman lies on a table and the magician allegedly saws her in half the woman, of course, soon being fully resurrected), the Indian basket trick and rope trick, producing ags from his mouth, and so on. The viewer is in no doubt that this is a bona-de Indian magician from whom one should expect a great and entertaining show. To conclude the effect, the magicians condence (and some would argue arrogance) is reected in the title, The Great Gogia Pasha, Worlds Greatest

Magician a title which was taken over by P. C. Sorcar a few years later. The reverse side of the poster is another marketing ploy. Not only does Pasha repeat the illustration of the Indian rope trick (here more akin to the Arab rope trick), but he has also printed the names of dozens of international towns and cities where he has performed, including many British locations. This double-sided poster is a metaphor for the success achieved by Indian magicians to date on the British stage. They could now be perceived as professional, entertaining, skilful, and exotic, with a guaranteed bag of tricks; but in addition, they recognized their worth both to the live and television audience and could direct their own careers with more condence. In other words, in creating an iconic image and supporting it with professionalism and consistency in performance, they had carved out a niche in the international market that remains theirs to this day.64 After the war there were necessary economic cutbacks, and with Europe still in social turmoil it became temporarily difficult to bring in foreign entertainment acts. Given the existing market for the exotic Eastern magician, it is not surprising that pseudo-oriental acts such as Ali Beys (David Charles Lemmy) pseudo-Arabian show or Ram Das and Kims Asian double-act (South and East Asian) soon lled the gap. However, the end of the war also signalled another social phenomenon that would dictate a fundamental shift in the reception of Indian magicians in the UK migration. Migration of the professional classes, in particular lawyers and doctors, had been slowly taking place over the past century. In 19

The family act of Rasool Khan.

the wake of the war, with the shortage of labour and a need for reconstruction, thousands of South Asians came to the UK and provided the cheap labour that was needed. As politics progressed and cultural and ideological schisms took place on the Indian sub-continent and later in East Africa, the inux of South Asians increased. The Post-War Situation Rasool Khan arrived in the UK from Indias North West Frontier in 1926. He settled with his family in Sheffield, where he eventually ran a drapery business and a market stall. But, in addition, Rasool was a talented selftaught magician, and performed in a number of local venues, including working mens clubs. By the late 1940s he and his family had moved to Liverpool, where he created the Pakistani Theatre with his daughter Doreen, a magical act that was also known as Rasool Hamza and Zarema, Pakistans Greatest Illusionist. His two sons, Derek and Raymond, also participated in some shows. The family act included sword dancing, the basket trick, and snake charming and, as the photograph above shows, they also adopted the now traditional Indian magicians garb. In 1952 they were invited to perform in the 20

Olympics which were held in Finland. Their summer tour took them to Scandinavia and a number of European venues. Two years later they appeared live on the BBC programme Sideshow.65 Theirs was a phenomenal achievement that also reected the new climate of entertainment becoming available in the post-war period. In addition to the new resident talent, visiting Indian magicians also continued to perform in the UK. Among the many were Prince Darius or Dara Kaka (Dara Rustomji Kaka); The Great Kadir, who made several appearances on Granada Television (and was the son of The Royal Kadir, who had performed before King George V and Queen Mary when they visited India); and Eddie Joseph, a renowned magician who won the coveted Sphinx award in 1947, enjoyed international success, and published a number of books including Magic and Mysteries of India (1940) and The Hindu Cups and Balls (1956).66 Chandu The Great Chandrakant, the Indian Illusionist started his British tour in 1971 at St Georges Hall, Bradford, nishing at the Dominion Cinema, Southall. By this time, both venues had become associated with the growing migrant South Asian communities and their preferred forms of entertainment, and, in this case, testify to the new

audience for Indian magicians in the UK.67 However, the most famous Indian magician on the international scene from the mid1950s was, undeniably, P. C. Sorcar. The Arrival of P. C. Sorcar Pratul Chandra Sorcar was born in presentday Bangladesh in 1913 and devoted his life to magic from a young age. His life story is well documented, not least by the magician himself. Indeed, Sorcars extensive selfpromotion was possibly as much a factor in his success as his mastery of magic and the grand illusion. His self-promotion took the form of self-published pamphlets, books, photo books, a journal, The All India Magic Circle (AIMC) News Bulletin, radio and television interviews, networking in magic and celebrity circles, and staged walks in full performance regalia through famous cities, including London, with his entourage of female assistants dressed in saris. At the same time he adopted the title used by Gogia Pasha, The Worlds Greatest Magician, shortening it to the acronym TWsGM. Although many Indians were proud to have a representative of such international standing, other international magicians criticized Sorcar for his blatant and unqualied selfpromotion. The German magician Kalanag frequently accused Sorcar of stealing his performance concepts.68 Sorcars arrival on the international scene was perfectly timed. It was ten years after the end of the Second World War, when the austere conditions that had ensued were nally starting to improve. The image of the Indian magician still resonated in the British psyche and relatively few people travelled long distances internationally. Performers arriving from South Asia, therefore, retained their exoticism. Migration of South Asians to Britain was yet to be considered a huge problem (as it was by many from the 1960s), and forms of variety family performance, both live and recorded, were still a signicant part of ones expectation of entertainment. In addition, Sorcar had the benet of the experience of individuals such as Gogia Pasha and Eddie Joseph.69

His marketing material alternated between Indian art and graphic design which would have had an ethnic appeal in todays parlance, but he also harnessed that seminal characteristic of twentieth-century culture celebrity. Sorcars self-promotional publications included photographs of the magician with individuals of international celebrity status, such as Lord and Lady Mountbatten, his BBC interview with Richard Dimbleby, or the actress Shirley Maclaine. Every truly successful performance requires a bit of luck, and Sorcars rst recorded show for BBC Television on 9 April 1956 was no different. As part of his show he performed the buzzsaw trick of allegedly sawing a girl in half with a circular saw. The trick was certainly not unique to Sorcar, or Indian magicians, at the time. The trick got under way and, as luck would have it, the audience had just witnessed the sawing of the beautiful seventeen-year-old Dipty Dey a little above the waist when the programme ran out of time and the cameras stopped. The viewers were aghast and the BBC switchboard was soon jammed by callers wishing to nd out if the girl had survived. Sorcars son, P. C. Sorcar, Jr., assured me that his father was a man of precise timing, who had overrun his time on purpose, in order to create the strong public reaction.70 Either way, it was a serendipitous marketing coup and launched Sorcars career in the UK. The potentially horric story was reported in the press the following day, accompanied by the smiling portrait of Dey.71 Sorcar repeated the complete trick at the Duke of Yorks Theatre, London, the following evening in a show entitled Mysteries of India and the Orient, which was also covered by the press. Reviews and anecdotes regarding Sorcar seem to conrm that he was a hardworking, creative, and likeable man, and that his show exuded the spectacular character that remained crucial to the success of Indian magic on the world stage. He understood the power of the media and often knew how to inuence it. One anecdote tells of how Sorcar was wearing his usual western suit when he heard that people would be arriving with 21

cameras, at which point he quickly changed into his sherwani performance outt. Sorcar died in 1971 aged fty-seven. The wave of heartfelt obituaries from fellow international magicians and the public funeral held in Calcutta, which was swamped by the public, are testimony to the undeniable success of this particular Indian magician.72 In conclusion, then, this exploration of the presence of Indian magicians in the UK has revealed the extent to which Indian entertainers effectively negotiated British codes of performance to establish their own recognized modes of practice. Ramo Samee and his co-magicians laid the foundations of a style of performance that was dazzling, theatrical, and uniquely Indian as dependent on the showmanship and personality of the performer as on the quality of the magic. Over the following two centuries a dialogue took place whereby South Asian magicians initiated new modes of performance, to which western magicians were forced to respond. Although some sought to denounce their Indian counterparts, many western magicians understood the new climate and market, and appropriated South Asian sounding names, acts, and tricks in order to satisfy demand and further their own careers. Even in recent times, there are lingering traces of this tendency in the British magician Ali Bongo, or the spectacle of Paul Daniels, poorly dressed as an Indian magician, performing a televised version of the Indian rope trick. From the late nineteenth century, international performance by Indian magicians was supported by the development of centres of Indian magic. The formalization of magic in India through magic associations, journals, books, and tuition offered a domestic and international platform for magic debates and performances which underpinned an increasing Indian professionalism within the art. This support encouraged Indians to seek their own Indian identity and deliver their own modes of performance in India and abroad, rather than recreate existing western traditions. The familiarity of todays British audience with the image of the Indian magician as a colourful and theatrical gure (as portrayed by Araf Javed in his previously 22

mentioned roles) is testament to the Indian magicians success over the decades. In the early twentieth century, Indian magicians exploited the new visual media and entertainment to reach an even larger public in the UK, soon to be augmented by new migrant audiences; and by this time the Indian magician in formal sherwani was already an established icon of professional British entertainment. Kuda Bux and Gogia Pashas success, and nally P. C. Sorcars international status based on professional skill, showmanship, creative marketing strategies, and domestic support, mark the arrival of independent professional Indian magicians, no longer considered inferior but artists on an equal footing with their international contemporaries.

Notes and References

1. Anon., Are Indian Jugglers Humbugs? The Opinion of an Expert. An Interview with Mr Charles Bertram, Strand Magazine, XVIII (1899), p. 65764. 2. Jean Eugne Robert-Houdin, The Secrets of Conjuring and Magic; or, How to Become a Wizard, trans. and ed., with notes, by Professor Hoffmann (London: George Routledge, 1878), cited in Mick Mangan, Performing (Dark) Arts (Intellect Press, 2007), forthcoming, Chapter 6. 3. Sidney W. Clarke, Oriental Conjuring, in The Annals of Conjuring (Seattle: The Miracle Factory, 2001), p. 373400. Thomas Frosts The Lives of Conjurors (London: Tinsley Brothers, 1876) was the rst signicant book published on the history of magic. Frost notes a certain Hamilton who recorded his travels in India and made the reading portion of the public acquainted with the tricks of the fakirs, or religious mendicants, of that country, some of whom have exhibited remarkable feats, though they are much more frequently impostors than legitimate conjurors (p. 114). 4. See Clarke, Oriental Conjuring, p. 3867. 5. Although one cannot be sure how, why, or under what circumstances the Indians travelled to the UK, the growing trade between the regions demanded more Indian seamen or lascars, some of whom jumped ship on arrival in the UK. See Rozina Vizram, Ayars, Lascars, and Princes: the Story of Indians in Britain 17001947 (London: Pluto Press, 1986). 6. Clarke, Oriental Conjuring, p. 395. The jugglers then travelled to the US and performed in New York. 7. E. A. Dawes, The Great Illusionists (Newton Abbot: David and Charles, 1979), p. 133, 134, 170; Clarke, Oriental Conjuring, p. 3956. 8. This and the following information is taken from Henry Mayhew, London Labour and the London Poor: A Cyclopaedia of the Condition and Earnings of Those That Will Work, Those That Cannot Work, and Those That Will Not Work, Vol. 3 (London: Griffin, Bohn and Company, 1861), p. 104, 106. I owe the reference to Mick Mangan.

9. John Mulholland, Ramo Samee, The Sphinx, XXXVI, No. 12 (February 1938), p. 348. 10. The British authorities tried, unsuccessfully, to outlaw this practice in 1865. See the Indian Office Records, the British Library: IOR 1892 Box l/p&j/6/322. 11. Dawes, The Great Illusionists, p. 1314, 1701. Dawes notes that Dickenss interest in conjuring was said to have been ignited in 1838 when Nicholas Nickleby, rst produced at the Hull Theatre Royal on 26 December, shared the bill with Ramo Samee. Dickens later performed magic privately for friends and family (p. 131). 12. Frost, The Lives of the Conjurors, p. 2068. 13. Ibid., p. 20811. 14. Robert Wood, Victorian Delights (London: Evans Brothers, 1967), p. 94102. 15. See David Price, Magic, p. 69. 16. David Prince Miller, The Life of a Showman (London: Edward Avery, 1849), p. 3. 17. Price, Magic, p. 11316. Allegedly, Stoddart was not French, but born in Liverpool. 18. Many so-called Indian tricks also had western equivalents, such as Jack and the Beanstalk, for the Indian rope trick. 19. See the playbills and portraits reproduced in Price, Magic, p. 120; and Peter Lamont, The Indian Rope Trick: the Biography of a Legend (London: Little Brown, 2004), p. 35. 20. Anderson, also known as Prof. Anderson, Wizard of the North, took a lm projector on his last tour. Bart Whaley, Whaleys Whos Who in Magic: an International Biographical Guide from Past to Present (Key West, Florida: Black Bart Magic, 2001), CD-ROM version, accessed autumn 2005. 21. Price, Magic, p. 97. See Whaley, Whaleys Whos Who, CD-ROM. 22. Clarke, Oriental Conjuring, p. 396. 23. Ibid., p. 3912. Years later, the editor of the Indian magic journal Magic Net was saddened that not a single magician was invited to meet Queen Elizabeth II and the Duke of Edinburgh on their rst visit to India in 1961: see L. N. Das, Editor Speaks, Magic Net, II, No. 3 (March 1961), p. 3. 24. Contemporary photographs of high society are testament to the fashion for highly decorative, owing materials in rich hues of saffron, earthy tones, and greens associated with the Orient. Men would even adopt a sherwani or kurta (Indian-style formal jacket) and beaded turban for certain society events, whilst women dressed in the owing silks associated with Arabia, or new free dancers such as Isadora Duncan and Diaghilev. 25. Ghosh was a professional magician performing western and authentic Indian magic, and according to Bart Whaley, played Paris in 1900 during a world tour. Titles of Professor and Doctor should not be assumed to refer to academic or medical qualications; they were frequently applied to certain magicians of a particular standard. 26. Both the British Magical Society and the Magic Circle were founded in 1905 with David Devant as the elected President. See David Hibberd, Chronicle of Magic 19001999: a Record of Happenings in Magic in Great Britain (David Hibberd, 2003), p. 1820. 27. Whaley, Whaleys Whos Who, CD-ROM; Clarke, Oriental Conjuring, p. 3967. 28. Professor Samri S. Baldwin, The White Mahatma, the Secrets of Mahatma Land Explained (New York: T. J. Dyson, 1895).

29. Ellis Stanyon, Prof. Ahmad, Court Magician, Magic, V, No. 3 (December 1904), p. 1. 30. Information supplied by Peter Lane, chief librarian to the Magic Circle, London. This is not to say that Prof. Ahmad paid for this article, but rather to inform the reader that this form of specialist self-promotion at the highest magical echelon was available to magicians. 31. Anon, Professor Alvaro, The Wizard, III, No. 36 (August 1908), p. 1. 32. Alvaro toured India, the Far East, and England in 1908. According to Whaley, Alvaro also published in a number of European magic journals, including Will Goldstons Magician Monthly. 33. Nevil Maskelyne and David Devant, Our Magic: the Art in Magic, the Theory of Magic, the Practice of Magic (London: Routledge), p. 323. 34. Milbourne Christopher, The Illustrated History of Magic (Toronto: Fitzhenry and Whiteside, 1973), p. 289 90. See David Price, Magic, p. 498502, for information on Ching Ling Foo. 35. The latter is an interesting choice, since Singh denotes the Sikh not Hindu religion. In general all Indian magicians of this era were classied in the West as either Hindu or Muslim, despite the fact that many had adopted dress from the Punjab, an area associated with Sikhism. Consistently loosely applied terms of fakir, Hindu, Mahatma, Brahmin, Muslim, and so forth are further evidence not only of the Wests ignorance, but also the fact that most were content to indulge in a sense of generalized eastern exoticism, rather than apply a more specic, analytical approach. 36. In addition to Christopher, see Price, Magic, p. 51011; Hibberd, Chronicle of Magic, p. 1415, also documents a number of Dutts performances in 1904 as Ishmael, The Hindoo Wonder. 37. Barnouw and Krishnaswamy, Indian Film (New York; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980), p. 1023. 38. Bhay Ranjit, a.k.a. Ripendra Nath Bose, later known as Rajah or Rajah Bose, travelled to Leeds to study. In 190910 he became the rst Indian accepted by the Variety Artists Agents to appear in the British music halls or variety theatres as their registered artiste, conjuror, and animal mimic, on the same terms and rank as any European professor of the art. Asoke Sarkar, Biography: Our Homage to Rajah Bose Indias Great Master of Magic With International Reputation, Magic (January 1950), p. 316. 39. Lamont, The Rise of the Indian Rope Trick, p. 113. 40. Needles or beads are bundled into the magicians mouth and mysteriously threaded within the connes of the mouth, then to be extracted as threaded on the cotton. 41. Price, Magic, p. 221. 42. See for example, David Devant, An AngloIndian Trick, in Magic Made Easy (London: C. Arthur Pearson, 1921), p. 447. 43. Hereward Carrington, Hindu Magic: an Expos of the Tricks of the Yogis and Fakirs of India (Kansas City: A. M. Wilson, 1913). 44. Jean Hugard, Hugards Annual of Magic 193839, cited in AIMC News Bulletin, May 1960. 45. Clarke, Oriental Conjuring, p. 383. 46. Major L. H. Branson, Indian Conjuring (London: Routledge). Bransons stated aim in his book is to uphold the reputation of the western conjuror against the spurious ascendancy held by his eastern confrre (p. 2); David Devant, My Magic Life (London: Hutchinson,

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1931), p. 131; Cyril Bertram Mills, Bertram Mills Circus: Its Story (London: Hutchinson, 1967), p. 81. 47. Lamont, The Rise of the Indian Rope Trick, p. 66; Anne Davenport and John Salisse underline J. N. Maskelynes wish to denounce any fraudulent spiritualism in all its forms, in their St Georges Hall: Behind the Scenes at Englands Home of Mystery (Pasadena, CA: Mike Caveneys Magic Words, 2001), p. 26. 48. Sam Sharpe, The Magic Play (Chicago: Magic, 1976) lists all the Maskelyne-Devant magical sketches. 49. Sharpe, in The Magic Play, lists the plays as: Modern Witchery, 1894; The Souls Master, 1895; Le Miracle du Brahmine, 1896; The Entranced Fakir, 1901; The Philosophers Stone, 1902; The Mascot Moth, 1905; and In Quest of Mahatma, 1915. Davenport and Salisse (p. 512, 76, and 3289) also provide information on The Magical Master, 1907, which contained the Indian rope trick, and details of The Mascot Moth, and the early stages of A Night of Mystery, about the same time. 50. Ellis Stanyon, A Description of a Magical Sketch Presented at St Georges Hall, Magic, VI, No. 10 (July 1906), p. 735. 51. This line has been altered in the version published in David Devant, My Magic Life (London: Hutchinson, 1931), p. 27180. 52. See Whaley, Whaleys Whos Who, CD-ROM. 53. Dr Lele and Prof. Bharat-Kumar, Magical News in Brief, The Indian Magician, III, No. 4 (11 May 1934), p. 5. 54. See the issues of August 1934, December 1935, March 1936, August 1936, and July 1937. 55. Carter the Great, Indian Magician, V, No. 1 (11 February 1936), p. 241. 56. B. S. Chaudhary, Indian Magician, III, No. 6 (11 July 1934), p. 2. 57. A few names include Bombayo, a slack-rope walker; Damoo Gangaram Dhotre, wild animal trainer and circus artist; and Prince Zahoor, perche artiste. A photograph taken at Norwich Fair in 1937 shows a stall entitled Amir-Alis Hindu Theatre, Oriental Mysteries, A Wonder Show. See Michael E. Ware, Historic Fairground Scenes (Moorland: Ashbourne, 1989), ill. 59. 58. For example, Nagendranath Gangulee, Sher Shah the Bengal Tiger (London: New India Pub. Co., 1946). 59. Mills, Bertram Mills Circus, p. 879; Derek Gilpin Barnes, Bertram Mills Circus in Story and Pictures (London: Bertram Mills Circus, 1950). 60. Harry Price, Search for Truth, p. 1868. 61. Information from interview with P. C. Sorcar Jnr., Asansol, West Bengal, 20 July 2006.

62. Anon, Gogia Pasha, at the Regent Theatre, The Scaratika (The Sheffield Circle of Magicians), II, No. 1 (January 1937), p. 434; Anon, Programmes: Gogia Pasha, at The Granville, Walham Green, The Magic Wand, XXVI, No. 173 (MarchMay 1937), p. 51. 63. Frederic Culpitt, Chit-Chat, The Magic Wand, XXVI, No. 177 (MarchMay 1938), p. 151. See also Hibberd, Chronicle of Magic, p. 116232, for detailed performance dates. 64. Hassans and Kuda Buxs service in ENSA during the Second World War is another indicator of the growing participation of Indian entertainers in the UK. See Hibberd, Chronicle of Magic, p. 138. 65. Information taken from http://www.liverpool museums.org.uk/hamlyn/ip/, accessed autumn 2005, and from Rasool Khans family. See also Radio Times, 16 July 1954, p. 40. 66. Prince Darius was from Bombay and performed in the UK from 1961, turning full-time in 1984; Cardo hailed from Varanasi and was in London from at least the same year; and Vijoy Govinda left for England in 1964. 67. Peter D. Blanchard, This Is Your Life, Dara Rustomji Kaka, The Magic Circular, LXXXIV, No. 908 (August 1990), front cover, and p. 1667; S. D. Mukherjie, News and Views, Magic Net, IV, No. 3 (March 1963), p. 3; Hibberd, for multiple references, including Chandu, p. 233; and Hugh Miller, ed., The Art of Eddie Joseph, with foreword by Harry Stanley (London: Supreme Magic, 1978). 68. Related materials are lodged in the archive of the Magic Circle, Euston, London. The issue was also debated in Sorcars AIMC News Bulletin (a thinly veiled organ of self-promotion) and Magic Net, the then rival Indian magic journal, published in Calcutta. 69. P. C. Sorcar, Jr., conrmed the friendship that existed between Gogia Pasha and his father. Interview, 20 July 2006. 70. Interview with P. C. Sorcar, Jr., 20 July 2006. Sorcar had performed at only a few theatres before the BBC recording. 71. Clifford Davis, Girl Cut In Half Shock On TV, Daily Mirror, 10 April 1956. 72. Sorcars son, Prodip Chandra Sorcar, inherited his fathers show under the name P. C. Sorcar, Jr., and continues to perform internationally. The issue of Genii, XXXV, No. 6 (February 1971) was used to both mourn the loss of the great magician, and also to launch the career of P. C. Sorcar, Jr.

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