chung ling foo and chung ling soo. a magician divided in two. uxeta labrit
"I'll eat the way they do,
with a pair of wooden sticks, And I'll have Ching Ling Foo,
Doing all his magic tricks. I'll get my mail from a pale pigtail,
For I mean to sail, From here to Shanghai."
Irving Berlin "From Here to Shanghai" (1917)
Magic today has lost a lot of the "magic" it used to have. As the technology has improved the scale and development of magical spectacles has been boosted substantially. But what the viewing public are actually prepared to swallow has also changed drastically due to that very same development. One hundred years ago audiences in cinemas rushed terrified for the exits as the trains on the silver screen bore down on them. Technology opens up new avenues but it also leaves very little to the imagination and belief in "other" powers. Back in the last days of the 19th Century and the beginning of the 20th, magicians, conjurers and people with "real" powers were held to be special. They used the latest technological advances in their shows, and while they were real wizards technically speaking, they were also top class actors, speakers and showmen. Literature and cinema have showcased this epoch on many occasions and they made Houdini a household name. But Houdini wasn't the only mouth opening magician doing the rounds back then. Let us take a step into the darkest recesses of the history of magic to meet two people who were the same magician. How? One... you're falling into a deep, deep sleep... Two... read the following lines... Three... Once upon a time there was a Chinese magician named Chung Ling Foo. Born in Beijing, he studied traditional Chinese magic and very quickly gained country-wide fame. Amongst his most astonishing of tricks was one where a child sauntered off stage having just had their head lopped off with a sword. Then there was the other one where he filled an empty basin with water and then proceeded to produce a newly-born baby from the basin. His fame soon reached foreign shores and an American businessman invited him over to the USA in 1898. As a publicity stunt, the businessman offered the prize of $1,000 to anybody who could figure out how he did the new-born baby and basin of water trick. A spectator by the name of William Robinson accepted the challenge and said he would also be able to do it. Foo paid no heed to him at all. Robinson soon realised that he wasn't going to be able, but he had become bitten by the magic bug and decided to become a professional. He was also looking for revenge. He studied Chinese magic and travelled to Europe under the name of Chung Ling Soo. From that moment on the two Chung Lings became rivals. Chung Ling Soo copied some of Chung Ling Foo's tricks and put on shows "brought to you straight from the far east" in London. W. Robinson took his new Chinese self very seriously and he never said a word on stage. He always requested an interpreter for any interviews he gave. In 1905, both Foo and Soo offered simultaneous shows in two different London theatres. They had some very heated rows and both claimed to the 'only Master of Chinese Magic. Foo repeatedly challenged Soo to a competition between the two magicians but Soo always refused by saying that Foo was nothing but a cheap copy of himself.
Soo also came up with an act that is still with us today. In the trick, he caught bullets that were fired at him with his hands and teeth. One of his helpers would ask one of the audience to mark the bullet. The bullet would then be loaded into a specially prepared pistol and fired at Chung Ling Soo. The bullet, however, never left the gun. While he was loading the gun, the "Master Magician come from the far East" looked at the markings and, unseen, copied them onto another one he had. This trick garnered him great renown and he became more famous than Foo. He became one of the most famous magicians in the world with this trick. That was until the trick misfired on the 23rd of March, 1918. Seemingly, the pistol he used hadnÕt been properly cleaned and the bullet didn't go where it was supposed to. His helper dutifully pulled the trigger and Soo fell to the floor. In between gasps he was supposed to have uttered the words: "Oh my God. Something's happened. Lower the curtain." The first words he'd publicly spoken in English for 19 years. They were also his last ones. Soo's wife explained the ins and outs of the trick to the judge the following day. The judges declared it accidental death but there were soon whispers of skulduggery involving his manager and wife. Some people even went so far as to say that the manager and wife were lovers and had come up with the perfect crime to get rid of Soo.
Some of you readers may be asking yourself just what makes somebody write an article about two people who were the one magician. One... we'll uncover our secret tricks like all other traitor magicians... Two... as I was reading about the compositor Irving Berlin ( writer of White Christmas, God Bless America,...many Broadway shows) I came across the song you saw at the beginning of the article... and Three... time to wake up...
with a pair of wooden sticks, And I'll have Ching Ling Foo,
Doing all his magic tricks. I'll get my mail from a pale pigtail,
For I mean to sail, From here to Shanghai."
Irving Berlin "From Here to Shanghai" (1917)
Magic today has lost a lot of the "magic" it used to have. As the technology has improved the scale and development of magical spectacles has been boosted substantially. But what the viewing public are actually prepared to swallow has also changed drastically due to that very same development. One hundred years ago audiences in cinemas rushed terrified for the exits as the trains on the silver screen bore down on them. Technology opens up new avenues but it also leaves very little to the imagination and belief in "other" powers. Back in the last days of the 19th Century and the beginning of the 20th, magicians, conjurers and people with "real" powers were held to be special. They used the latest technological advances in their shows, and while they were real wizards technically speaking, they were also top class actors, speakers and showmen. Literature and cinema have showcased this epoch on many occasions and they made Houdini a household name. But Houdini wasn't the only mouth opening magician doing the rounds back then. Let us take a step into the darkest recesses of the history of magic to meet two people who were the same magician. How? One... you're falling into a deep, deep sleep... Two... read the following lines... Three... Once upon a time there was a Chinese magician named Chung Ling Foo. Born in Beijing, he studied traditional Chinese magic and very quickly gained country-wide fame. Amongst his most astonishing of tricks was one where a child sauntered off stage having just had their head lopped off with a sword. Then there was the other one where he filled an empty basin with water and then proceeded to produce a newly-born baby from the basin. His fame soon reached foreign shores and an American businessman invited him over to the USA in 1898. As a publicity stunt, the businessman offered the prize of $1,000 to anybody who could figure out how he did the new-born baby and basin of water trick. A spectator by the name of William Robinson accepted the challenge and said he would also be able to do it. Foo paid no heed to him at all. Robinson soon realised that he wasn't going to be able, but he had become bitten by the magic bug and decided to become a professional. He was also looking for revenge. He studied Chinese magic and travelled to Europe under the name of Chung Ling Soo. From that moment on the two Chung Lings became rivals. Chung Ling Soo copied some of Chung Ling Foo's tricks and put on shows "brought to you straight from the far east" in London. W. Robinson took his new Chinese self very seriously and he never said a word on stage. He always requested an interpreter for any interviews he gave. In 1905, both Foo and Soo offered simultaneous shows in two different London theatres. They had some very heated rows and both claimed to the 'only Master of Chinese Magic. Foo repeatedly challenged Soo to a competition between the two magicians but Soo always refused by saying that Foo was nothing but a cheap copy of himself.
Soo also came up with an act that is still with us today. In the trick, he caught bullets that were fired at him with his hands and teeth. One of his helpers would ask one of the audience to mark the bullet. The bullet would then be loaded into a specially prepared pistol and fired at Chung Ling Soo. The bullet, however, never left the gun. While he was loading the gun, the "Master Magician come from the far East" looked at the markings and, unseen, copied them onto another one he had. This trick garnered him great renown and he became more famous than Foo. He became one of the most famous magicians in the world with this trick. That was until the trick misfired on the 23rd of March, 1918. Seemingly, the pistol he used hadnÕt been properly cleaned and the bullet didn't go where it was supposed to. His helper dutifully pulled the trigger and Soo fell to the floor. In between gasps he was supposed to have uttered the words: "Oh my God. Something's happened. Lower the curtain." The first words he'd publicly spoken in English for 19 years. They were also his last ones. Soo's wife explained the ins and outs of the trick to the judge the following day. The judges declared it accidental death but there were soon whispers of skulduggery involving his manager and wife. Some people even went so far as to say that the manager and wife were lovers and had come up with the perfect crime to get rid of Soo.
Some of you readers may be asking yourself just what makes somebody write an article about two people who were the one magician. One... we'll uncover our secret tricks like all other traitor magicians... Two... as I was reading about the compositor Irving Berlin ( writer of White Christmas, God Bless America,...many Broadway shows) I came across the song you saw at the beginning of the article... and Three... time to wake up...
