America’s SEcond Great MAgician
By William Pack | Magician, Historian, and Educator, https://libraryprogramming.com/
By Strobridge Lithographing Co. - http://lcweb2.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/i?pp/var:@field(NUMBER+@band(var+0258))Harry Kellar
B. July 11, 1849 – D. March 10, 1922
Born Heinrich Keller (Americanized to Henry, but he preferred being called Harry) in Erie, Pennsylvania, Harry took a long road to become the "King" of American magic. He ran away from home to make his way in the world at age 11. Not so unusual for a child of that time. Into his teens, he worked a variety of odd jobs from Cleveland to New York. One day, he saw a magic show by "The Fakir of Ava." After that, magic was all he could think about.
On the road again, he made his way to Buffalo, where he came upon an ad in the local paper: The Fakir of Ava needed a boy assistant. Harry was now in the magic business. He was hired because The Fakir of Ava thought his dog was a great judge of character. You see, when Harry arrived for the interview, the boy and the dog became fast friends, whereas the other interviewees were barked at and bitten.
Despite his billing, the "Fakir of Ava" was really an Englishman, Isaiah Harris Hughes. The exotic billing was merely a marketing ploy to sell tickets. Harry assisted Hughes and learned the trade, giving his first solo show at age 16. It was a financial failure. Two years more years of apprenticeship with Hughes and Harry tried it again. This time, the show was a success. The business, though, was feast or famine.
Disheartened by his efforts to earn a living, Harry applied for a job with "The Davenport Brothers and Fay." The Davenport Brothers were the first successful stage mediums, an act that thrived on controversy. Taking advantage of the popular Spiritualism fraud, they claimed they were not magicians but spirit mediums. They promised to summon your dead relatives' ghosts to the stage.
Keller began as a show assistant and was later promoted to advance agent and business manager. Slowly, he learned the closely guarded secrets of the Davenport spirit cabinet act. After four years and poor treatment by William Davenport, he quit. Working with the Davenports' other assistant, William Fay, the new partners toured Canada, Cuba, Mexico, and South America, performing a copy of the cabinet act and Harry's (Ava's) magic.
Following that successful tour, Fay and Keller boarded the Royal Mail steamer Boyne en route to England. Seventeen days later, on the morning of August 13, 1875, the ship ran into dense fog and struck the rocks off the coast of Brittany. The passengers made it safely to land. Lost in the wreckage were Keller's show effects, clothes, more than $20,000 worth of curios, uncut Brazilian diamonds, and gold and silver coins. Fay left to rejoin the Davenports. Keller, left with the clothes on his back and a diamond ring, set off to build a new show.
He visited Egyptian Hall, the home of magic in England. There he saw an early performance of the brilliant magician Buatier de Kolta and his Vanishing Birdcage. De Kolta wouldn't sell, but Keller was able to obtain a duplicate from de Kolta's cousin for a fortune of $750 ($18,000 in today's money). A magic manufacturer in America agreed to re-construct Keller's lost props for just the secret of that cage.
Keller put together a new troupe of performers with a name "borrowed" from Egyptian Hall, The Royal Illusionists. They performed worldwide for several years, just one of several of Keller's world tours. The show would ultimately evolve into Keller's alone. He would change his last name from Keller to Kellar in the process out of respect for Robert Heller. When he returned to America after Heller's death, the New York Sun reported: "Heller is scarcely dead before we read of Kellar the Wizard. Of course, Kellar aims to profit by the reputation that Heller left by adopting a close imitation of Heller's name. This is not an uncommon practice." Kellar tried to correct the record. It did little good. The damage was done.
Due to the controversy, Kellar went on another world tour. In Australia, he met a 19-year-old cornet player, Eva Lydia Medly. She came for his autograph. They began a correspondence. Five years later, in Kalamazoo, MI, they would marry. Eva became his partner in life and the act. She did more than play the cornet. Many of the box illusions and levitations were left for his primary assistant, the petite Dot Robinson. The, as one newspaper put it, "voluptuous and beautiful" Eva developed an astonishing Second Sight mindreading routine with Harry. She also did rapid math calculations.
While Kellar was abroad, Alexander Herrmann rose to the top of the conjuring profession in America. They couldn't be more different. Herrmann was the refined European. The taller, brawnier Kellar was boldly American with any hit of exoticness. Herrmann was a hilarious wit with strong improvisational skills and fine sleight-of-hand abilities. Kellar was avuncular, meticulous, serious, direct, and had a quick temper. He was poor at sleight of hand, using gimmicks instead of dexterity.
Yet, Kellar performed incredible mysteries, giving them careful theatrical presentations that allowed him to comment charmingly on his travels around the world. Completely bald now and minus his brush mustache – he shaved it off after his manager told him that it was hard to understand his patter - Kellar was a strong rival for Herrmann. Early on, the bitter rivalry caused them both heavy losses. Later, when they became friends, they agreed on the ridiculousness of the cutthroat feuding. America was big enough for them both.
After Herrmann died, Kellar ascended to the throne of magic in America without real competition. There is a controversial theory that the popular Kellar was the inspiration (perhaps partially) for Frank L. Baum's Wizard of Oz. William Denslow's illustrations of the Wizard bear a striking resemblance to Kellar.
Kellar created or improved a great deal of all aspects of magic, including posters. His advertising posters heavily featured imps and devils, a wink to the idea of otherworldly help in his magical endeavors, an alluring taboo.
Later, when they became friends, they agreed on the ridiculousness of the cutthroat feuding.
America was big enough for them both.
His masterpiece was another stolen illusion, The Floating Lady. In 1901, Kellar heard that British magician John Nevil Maskelyne had added a sensational new levitation illusion to his show. Kellar traveled to London to see it. Kellar wanted it. Maskelyne wouldn't sell. Kellar and his show mechanic went to several shows, sitting in all parts of the theater, and were baffled.
Kellar went to one show alone, sitting in the front row. Maskelyne floated the woman. Kellar stood up, walked up the stairs, and onto the stage. He looked around and walked off the stage and out of the theater. He saw the secret behind the trick and still could not fathom how it worked. Kellar eventually hired away one of Maskelyne's assistants, Paul Valadon, who revealed the true secret behind the illusion. But the trick was specifically created for Maskelyne's theater. Kellar had to redesign it from scratch to take it from theater to theater.
In 1908, Harry Kellar retired, passing on the mantle of magic to Howard Thurston. This crowning of a successor was an unprecedented event in magic – although it was more of a business and marketing relationship. Howard Thurston had the money to buy the show. He was also ready to become America's next great magician, a worthy successor.
November 11, 1917, was Harry Kellar's final stage performance. He was already retired. But that Sunday night was a benefit at New York's huge Hippodrome Theatre for dependents of the servicemen who were lost at sea when a German U-boat sank the troop ship Antilles.
At the close of Kellar's act, host Harry Houdini announced that Kellar would not be allowed to simply walk off the stage. A sedan chair was brought forth, and Kellar took his place in the seat of honor. He was hoisted in the air and carried around the stage by his fellow magicians. Cast members showered him with bouquets of chrysanthemums. The audience of five thousand rose to their feet and sang Auld Lang Syne in one voice. It was a fitting tribute to a man whose skill and character were admired by magicians and the public alike.
It was a fitting tribute to a man
whose skill and character
were admired by magicians and the public alike.
In his travels, Kellar performed in Cuba, Mexico, Panama, Ecuador, Peru, Chile, Uruguay, Argentina, Brazil, West Indies, Jamaica, Venezuela, America, Australia, Singapore, Java, China, Philippines, Burma, India, Ceylon, Arabia, East Africa, South Africa, England, Scotland, South Wales, New Zealand, Tasmania, Japan, Siam, and Canada.
Eva Kellar died on March 28, 1910. She was 47. Harry Kellar joined her on March 10, 1922. He was 73.
