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Rock and folk histories have configured a particular version of politics and resistance. Yet as rock and folk are transformed through different modes of music, how is politics also configured? Playing with authenticity, the hyperreal offers a new way of thinking about political pop.
Circuses and their grand arenas shaped the entertainment industry between the wars and excited both small-town and big-city audiences. Worlds of the ring makes an original and significant contribution to the history of popular culture by highlighting the correlation between the modern circus’s evolution and modes of imperialism and nationalism. Through the cases of the German Sarrasani and the British Bertram Mills circuses, this study examines how these enterprises animated both the nation and its others for popular audiences. Circuses and performers constructed different worlds for their audiences and for themselves, and the book looks at this cultural history of European circuses between 1918 and 1945 from a transnational perspective. The interwar era’s interrelated international and national forces shaped the modern circus, which the book recovers through the lives of different people involved in this industry. Through the concept of Orientalism, it probes the mechanisms at play in depicting foreign and exotic worlds in the circus. It is based on a variety of sources, including newspapers, legal documents, advertisements, economic correspondence, photographs and performers’ archives. Worlds of the ring offers a new understanding of circus as a form of interwar popular culture, its globalisation and anchoring in European imperialism at the beginning of the twentieth century.
This chapter delves into the evolution of the modern circus, shedding light on its intricate interplay between national origins and international influences. While the genesis of the modern circus can be traced back to specific national contexts, it undeniably tapped into global connections and exotic imagery to craft narratives of national identity. While prior scholarship has extensively explored the emergence of the modern circus in the eighteenth century and its subsequent flourishing during the Georgian and Victorian eras, this chapter examines its quest for identity as it entered the twentieth century. Originally amalgamating rougher traditions associated with fairs and theatres, the modern circus found itself at a crossroads amidst the burgeoning influence of American mass culture. This juncture marked a pivotal moment for the circus, prompting cultural elites in Britain and Germany to reevaluate its direction. Circus directors, performers and fan associations embarked on a mission to redefine the essence of the modern circus. The aftermath of the First World War served as a catalyst for this reformation, as it engendered a renewed emphasis on professionalism and national heritage, while circuses were also competing for audience attention. Against a backdrop of economic, social and political upheaval, the modern circus in Britain and Germany underwent a profound metamorphosis, reinventing itself to align with shifting public sentiments and aspirations. The dynamics of domestic and international circus travel further shaped the evolution of the modern circus during this transformative period, highlighting its adaptability and resilience in the face of changing societal landscapes.
Chapter four elucidates contrasting approaches to the portrayal of difference in the British and German circuses during the interwar period. While the British circus showcased imperial subjects, the German circus tapped into anti-imperial themes to captivate audiences. Central to this dynamic was the fascination with American Indians, revered as symbols of exoticism and noble savagery within the German circus scene. The chapter delves into the profound impact of Native American culture on the German circus, exploring how it fuelled public enthusiasm and shaped circus performances. In interwar Germany, where imperial aspirations were connected to debates over the loss of its colonial possessions, Wild West shows featuring Native Americans emerged as a powerful anti-imperial fantasy. At the forefront of this phenomenon was the Sarrasani Circus, notably led by director Hans Stosch-Sarrasani senior, who himself embraced a cowboy persona. Through authentic encounters with Lakota performers from the Pine Ridge Reservation, framed as kindred spirits of the German people, the circus offered audiences a glimpse into a romanticised frontier world. By situating this spectacle within a transnational framework of imperial othering, the chapter reveals how both imperial and anti-imperial motifs operated within the same cultural context. Furthermore, it underscores the disparity between the idealised portrayal of American Indians in the circus and the harsh realities faced by the Lakota Indians residing on American reservations.
European animal trainers portrayed themselves as ‘Orientals’ while demonstrating their prowess with wild animals. Positioned at the crossroads of gender and imperial studies, this chapter unveils the intricate dynamics of these trainers’ agency in orchestrating performances with wild animals. Central to the argument is the assertion that these animal trainers strategically employed ‘Oriental’ motifs to anchor national spectacles within the framework of the modern circus. Against the backdrop of the interwar period, characterised by the reliance of circuses on international and, to some extent, global networks, the prominence of ‘Oriental’ themes in the display of wild animals soared. However, far from being mere exotic superfluities, these representations served a dual purpose: they not only catered to international tastes but also bolstered national identities, particularly in Germany and Britain. By presenting themselves as compassionate guardians of wildlife while simultaneously revealing their ferocity within the ring, these performances provided audiences with a reflection of their own national character. In essence, this chapter unveils the complex interplay between exoticism, national identity and the public’s perception of wildlife, shedding light on the nuanced ways in which the modern circus navigated the currents of global culture and imperial ideologies.
The modern circus emerged as a captivating spectacle, showcasing acts from across the globe – a vibrant amalgamation of diverse individuals, animals and daring feats. Worlds of the ring contends that these displays of diversity served as affirmations of national symbols, practices and narratives. This introductory chapter unveils a previously overlooked cultural history of the circus in Britain and Germany during the interwar period, contributing a fresh perspective to the study of popular culture. It explores the early manifestations of cultural globalisation, highlighting the circus as a microcosm of interwar popular entertainment. Circuses functioned as catalysts for social discourse and the construction of national identity. Performers, directors and audiences engaged in lively negotiations surrounding contemporary visions of nationality and its others. The chapter delves into the intricate relationship between the construction of the nation and the foreign others presented within the German and British circus, offering a dynamic stage for interwar debates.
Chapter three explores the roots of the modern circus’s dual tendencies towards nationalisation and globalisation, tracing them back to earlier imperial displays. It focuses on the circus’s integration of nineteenth-century ethnographic show practices and presentations of racial and bodily differences. As interwar circuses thrived on these older representations of difference, the chapter highlights the case of the Padaung women, or ‘giraffe-neck women’, from Upper Burma, exhibited at British circuses as a means of imperial and national reaffirmation. Transferring nineteenth-century ethnographic traditions to twentieth-century entertainment, the circus offered a simplified, nationally recognisable portrayal of Southeast Asia, particularly Burma, as imperial others. By analysing visual and textual sources, the chapter illustrates how the circus provided audiences with mirrors reflecting their national concerns around race, empire and gender. Examining photographs of the Padaung women during their circus stint in England reveals a recurring contrast between the English centre and the Burmese periphery of the empire. Additionally, the chapter addresses the construction of authenticity through the circus’s recruitment and presentation of the group, emphasising the unequal power dynamics between producers and performers. Furthermore, the chapter raises questions about the silencing and absence of non-European voices in circus archives, echoing discussions from nineteenth-century ethnographic exhibitions and freak shows. It initiates a dialogue on twentieth-century circus entertainment’s engagement with nineteenth-century othering practices, while also highlighting the complex interplay of race, hierarchy, gender and agency within circus dynamics.
The fifth and final chapter shows how the modern circus navigated the increased influence of state control while also maintaining its international character at the beginning of the Second World War. As a form of wartime entertainment, the circus occupied a tenuous position between being subject to the expectations of authorities and those of audiences, with pleasure and propaganda functioning as interrelated categories. The chapter investigates how the circus was drawn in and resisted these national pulls in Britain and Germany, and the growing sentiments against each other. Through a close reading of 1939 and 1940 circus programmes, the chapter assesses the interplay of controlling and persuading audiences through plays of national propaganda and exotic escapism, which allowed a surprising continuity of international entertainment. On the inside, however, the cracks among the international community of show people were highly visible. Through newspaper clippings, the chapter assesses the underlying anti-German, anti-British and anti-international sentiments within the circus industry in both countries. Whilst circus directors and performers navigated these internal debates and the strains of the war overall, audiences voiced their expectations and disappointments over wartime circus entertainment, which are investigated through newspaper reviews and diaries of circus show attendees.
The concluding chapter summarises the narrative of the book, its significance being the illumination of the complex interplay between the circus, imperialism and national identity, shedding light on a previously overlooked aspect of cultural history. By unpacking the symbolism and narratives woven into the fabric of the circus, it invites readers to reconsider the role of entertainment in shaping societal attitudes and perceptions during a pivotal period in history. By delving into the German and British national narratives that underpinned the circus, it has unearthed the intricate and entangled layers of meaning embedded within its performances and spectacles. Moreover, it briefly examines the post-war trajectory of the circus in both Germany and Britain, offering insights into how this captivating form of entertainment evolved in the aftermath of global conflict. Looking ahead, this conclusion outlines promising avenues for future research at the juncture of popular culture studies and cultural history, suggesting a rich terrain for further exploration into the modern circus.
Cullen Maiden was a bass opera singer, poet, actor, composer, and teacher born in Cleveland, Ohio, in 1932. After serving with the US military in Korea and postgraduate study at the Juilliard School, he toured with the Katherine Dunham Dance Company and the Belafonte Folk Singers before travelling to Europe — Stockholm, Rome, London, Munich — for further study and professional engagements in the early and mid-1960s. His move to Europe was motivated by racist barriers in the music industry which, while still inescapably present in Europe, seemed more navigable than those in the United States at the time.1 Maiden therefore belongs to a multi-generational cohort of African American musicians who made similar moves to German-speaking Europe, as outlined in Kira Thurman’s landmark study Singing like Germans.2 A successful audition for the Komische Oper in East Berlin led to stable employment in the house’s ensemble, and Maiden later rose to prominence as a popular Porgy in productions of Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. Maiden lived in West Berlin for over thirty years, regularly crossing the border for work, and he pursued many independent artistic projects there, some in collaboration with political and aid organizations. In the later 1970s and early 1980s, while still living in Berlin, he made a professional return to the United States to give a series of recitals and to perform with the Black-led company Opera/South. By the early 1990s, Maiden was experiencing difficulties singing due to a medical condition, so took on increasing teaching work during his final decade in then-reunified Germany. Maiden and his British wife, Chris Hall-Maiden, moved to London in 2000, from which point he focused his multifaceted creativity on composition. He died in 2011.
Much has been written about women as composers, performers, or teachers around the turn of the twentieth century. Less attention has been paid to how women could build portfolio careers by weaving musical practices together. This article focuses on a group of Scottish women who did not make their names solely as art music composers or stellar performers, and for whom piano teaching was only part of their musical work. Four were related to the Scottish music publishers Mozart Allan, James Kerr, and the Logan brothers; the fifth published with Allan and Kerr, and also self-published. All but one made their careers in Scotland. Their lives and achievements reveal the range of musical occupations open to upper working- or lower middle-class women in this era, and also provide insights into musical scenes beyond the English cities more typically the focus of British music histories.
A pasticcio opera is a new opera created from pre-existing parts, a creative process which has been in use for as long as the artform itself. This book argues that pasticcio is a method rather than a genre, one that was already widely used before the term was coined in the eighteenth century, and continued in use long after it dropped from favour. Nor is the method unique to opera: pasticcio poetry, plays, sculptures and film scores continue to be made. Yet all kinds of pasticcio art came under pressure in the nineteenth century as Romantic conceptions of originality and authenticity married with a rise in the importance of text over performance. A main argument in the study is that this shift from performance tradition to text was part of a wider societal transition from a proto-literate society with many oral inheritances – of which the pasticcio method was one – to a mass-literate society. A narrow canon and an ever-contracting operatic repertoire were the result in Britain, a contraction which continued for much of the twentieth century. Yet pasticcio did not disappear in the nineteenth century, as was once thought, and the book discusses its surprising continuation and proliferation. Today, it is enjoying a tentative revival.