Читать книгу Magic Shadows - Martin Quigley - Страница 4

Table of Contents

The art of magic shadows, which just before the dawn of the twentieth century evolved into the modern motion picture, was born three centuries ago, at Rome. There Athanasius Kircher, a German priest, first showed his invention, the magic lantern, to friends, and enemies, at the Collegio Romano, where he was a professor of mathematics.

The world premiere of the first real “magic shadow” performance passed without public notice. In those days there were no press agents or publicists. There were no newspapers. The people did not care what the nobles and scholars were doing in their idle moments; the intellectuals paid little attention to the people.

History has not recorded the day and month in which Kircher presented his projector, the fundamental instrument of all screen shows, then and now. The occasion can be set only approximately—some time in the year 1644 or 1645. The hour of the performance presumably was in the evening, for the light and shadow pictures had to be shown in darkness, just as today films must be exhibited in darkened theatres.

We may be sure that the score or more of invited guests—Romans and distinguished foreigners—eagerly accepted an opportunity to see what Kircher was up to. Rome had been buzzing with rumors. The energetic little Jesuit priest who earned for himself the title, “Doctor of a Hundred Arts,” had even been suspected of necromancy and working in league with the devil. After the showing of the magic lantern and its projected pictures some were certain that he practiced the “black arts.”

The audience for the first screen performance was as distinguished as any that has since graced a Hollywood production. Other professors of the Roman College were there to note for themselves on which one of his “hundred arts” Kircher had been busy. These men were among the most learned in Europe and had made the Jesuit University, established in 1582, already an influence in all circles of thought. A selected group of students, young Romans of noble birth, surely were also invited. Until the hour of the demonstration, these stood outside in the large Piazza di Collegio Romano before the main entrance. Three centuries later, from June, 1944 to late 1945, American Army MPs raced through this same Piazza on jeeps and motorcycles to their headquarters in Rome, just across the square from the entrance to the Collegio Romano.

Just at the appointed hour for Kircher’s show, a few distinguished monsignori, in flowing purple were driven to the entrance in their carriages with mounted escort. Perhaps, too, a hush went through the small group, assembled in an upper hall, when a Prince of the Church, such as Cardinal Barberini who had summoned Kircher to Rome a decade before, came to see for himself. After all the monsignori and other visitors had been greeted with ceremony and salutation in keeping with their rank, the candles and lamps were extinguished; Kircher slipped behind a curtain or partition where his projector was concealed and the first light and shadow screen show was on.

For a moment Kircher’s audience could see nothing. Then slowly their eyes became accustomed to the darkness and a faint light appeared on a white surface set up in front of the few rows of seats. As the flames in Kircher’s lantern began to burn more brightly and he adjusted the crude projection system, the picture of his first glass slide was thrown upon the screen.

The young men with keen eyesight were the first to note that the light and shadow on the screen, like some ghostly figment, began to take form into a recognizable picture. Then the older ecclesiastics saw or thought they saw. The incredulous murmured prayerful ejaculations. The wonder increased as successive pictures were projected. Kircher was enough of a showman to use pictures which would entertain and amaze. He included animal drawings, artistic designs and, to taunt those who thought he was dabbling in necromancy, pictures of the devil. Prudence was not one of his “hundred arts.”

We may be amused now at the disbelief of Kircher’s first audience. But by trying to place ourselves in that hall of the Roman College, three centuries ago, it is easy to realize the difficulties. Nothing like Kircher’s show had ever been presented before. He had chained light and shadow, but the suspicion was held by some of the spectators that there was dark magic about it all and that Kircher had dabbled in the “black arts.”

The first audience congratulated Kircher at the end of the performance, but some went away wondering, dubious. Years later, Kircher wrote in his autobiography, “New accusations piled up and my critics said I should devote my whole life to developing mathematics.”

* * * * *

Two and a half centuries later, the screen art of magic shadow projection came to life in the motion picture. This was quite a different premiere. But Kircher would have recognized the device as an improvement on and development of his magic lantern. He, and hundreds who came after him, had tried to capture the animation of life in light and shadow pictures. Full success was not possible until a later date because the necessary materials were not available until near the end of the nineteenth century.

The scene of the most significant motion picture premiere was at Koster & Bial’s Music Hall, 34th Street, New York, which stood on the site now occupied by the R.H. Macy department store. The time was April 23, 1896. But in contrast to Kircher’s premiere, though “Thomas A. Edison’s Latest Marvel—the Vitascope” had featured billing on the show, it was not the only entertainment on the program. Albert Bial, manager, preceded the showing of the motion pictures with a half-dozen acts of vaudeville. There were the Russian clown, eccentric dancer, athletic and gymnastic comedian, singers and actors and actresses. But the movies stole that show and, in little more than a decade, became staple entertainment in tens of thousands of theatres all over the world.

The special top hat and silk tie audience at Koster & Bial’s Music Hall that Spring evening a half-century ago was treated to a selection of short films which ran only a few moments each: “Sea Waves”, “Umbrella Dance”, “The Barber Shop”, “Burlesque Boxing”, “Monroe Doctrine”, “A Boxing Bout”, “Venice, Showing Gondolas”, “Kaiser Wilhelm, Reviewing His Troops”, “Skirt Dance”, “Butterfly Dance”, “The Bar Room” and “Cuba Libre”.

Thomas Armat, the inventor of the projector which had been built by Edison, supervised projection of those first screen motion pictures shown on Broadway. We can well imagine that Kircher was looking over his shoulder, delighted that his work started 250 years before had been brought to the triumph of the living moving picture.

The great Edison was in a box at the Music Hall that evening and he, too, was glad that the New York audience of first nighters so well received the large screen motion pictures. A few years before, his Kinetograph camera and his Kinetoscope peep-hole viewer had presented motion pictures. But as Kircher in the 17th century wanted his pictures life-size on the screen, so did the public of the Nineties.

* * * * *

Kircher and Edison do not stand alone in the parade of pioneers in the art and science of the screen. The list of builders of the cinema is as cosmopolitan as its appeal: Greeks, Romans, Persians, British, Italians, Germans, French, Belgians, Austrians and lastly, and in some ways most importantly, Americans. Ancient philosophers, medieval monks, scholarly giants of the Renaissance, scientists, necromancers, modern inventors—all had a role in the 2500 year story of the creation, out of light and shadow, of this most popular and most influential expression—the motion picture.

Great and strange men, some whose fame derives from activities in other fields, others hardly recorded in the passing of history, contributed to what was eventually to become the motion picture. Many of the pioneers of the magic shadow art-science realized the entertainment, educational and scientific potentialities of their discoveries; others did not, because they were preoccupied with other affairs and only toyed with the light and shadow devices.

The following chapters tell how men learned about vision and light, and how apparatus to record and project living realities was developed.

It is the story of the origin of the motion picture, from Adam to Edison.