Since I'll be traveling over the next few days, I'm sharing one of my favorite posts from the past featuring an intrepid - and daring - woman....
One of our recent Friday Videos featuring an unidentified woman dancing along a precariously high-wire far above the streets of an equally unidentified city. Our astute Nerdy History readers were quickly able to spot the buildings in the background and identify the city as New York. Some readers also thought the video was a clever fake, filmed before a backdrop, but thanks to one – Elise Daniel – we now know that the film was very likely real, and the name of the high-wire artist in the sky: Bird Millman O'Day.
Or maybe not. Read on!
A hundred years ago, we all would have recognized her. Bird Millman (1890-1940) was one of the most celebrated performers of her time, a favorite of circus audiences around the world. Born Jennadean Engleman in Canon City, CO, she began her career as a precocious child performer, and worked her way up from small-town traveling circuses to the big-time vaudeville circuit, playing to packed houses in around America.
In 1913, she signed with the Barnum & Bailey Circus, right, and became a center-ring performer and major attraction, both with Barnum & Bailey and with the Ringling Brothers. In the off-season, she continued to play on Broadway as a featured star in the Ziegfeld Follies and Frolics, and toured Europe as well, where she famously gave a command performance for Kaiser Wilheim II.
"Every girl aught to walk a tightrope," Bird declared to the Milwaukee News in 1913. "It develops a rare set of muscles and self-confidence and teaches one how to walk properly on the street."
She was famous not only for her daring, but for making her performances look graceful and deceptively easy, with a light-hearted personality that charmed audiences. She was compared to a dainty bird (which gave her her theatrical nickname) and a fairy, and while most female circus performers wore provocatively close-fitting and skimpy (for the time!) costumes, hers featuring flowing, feather-trimmed skirts that made her look even more ethereal.
Sadly, while her public persona was that of a merry sprite, her private life was not as carefree. Her first two marriages were short-lived and ended in divorce. Her third marriage to Joseph Francis O'Day sounds like a Jazz Age match in a short story by F.Scott Fitzgerald: the high-wire dancer and the Harvard-educated millionaire. Bird happily retired from performing, determined to make this marriage work.
But O'Day lost his entire fortune - and Bird's - in the stock market crash of 1929. He died shortly afterwards, and the devastated and now-destitute Bird returned to Colorado to live with family. Her health deteriorated, and she died in great pain from uterine cancer in 1940, shortly before her fiftieth birthday.
Learning all this, however, only raises more questions about the silent film clip. British Pathe, which owns the film, has it catalogued as 1931 - which would have been years after Bird retired from performing.
However, soon after the U.S. entered World War One in 1917, Bird had indeed made a special patriotic performance in New York to help raise support for the war effort and for a Liberty Loan drive. She danced along a high-wire strung twenty-five stories over the Broadway where she was a star, and, according the newspaper reports, drew crowds and stopped traffic. I wonder if this performance is the one shown in the film. In one scene, she is shown with the Woolworth Building (the tall, angular skyscraper, identified by reader Thane Floreth) in the background, a scene that is also depicted on the cover of Popular Mechanics magazine.
But if this film features a performer as well-known as Bird, then why wasn't she identified on the caption-cards? Was it old footage, recycled in 1931, and was her fame already so diminished that the filmmaker didn't bother to identify her? Or was this a recreation of Bird's famous feat by an unknown performer and using camera trickery? As another reader, Karen Anne, pointed out, no one on the ground is looking up - which would hardly be the case for the original well-publicized stunt.
So, readers: what do you think?
Top left: Bird Millman, c. 1905, Cannon City Historical Society.
Top right: Barnum & Bailey Circus poster, c. 1915.
Lower left: Autographed publicity photograph of Bird Millman, c. 1920, The Blondin Memorial Trust.
Lower right: Cover, Popular Mechanics magazine, July, 1917.
One of us -- 
8 comments:
Does the traffic in the background help with dating? I can see one long vehicle that looks like it might be a tram, an assortment of cars, and possibly a lorry. To me, the motor traffic looks light enough to suggest an earlier date, but I'm no expert.
Just watching her on that wire makes my fear of heights kick in. I feel ill. I would think the umbrella would add to the danger as a gust of wind could toss it around. I have been thrown to the ground by wind when walking on a sidewalk with an umbrella.
The people on the ground look very far away. I work on the 27th floor of a building and the cars and people are not that small. They weren't that small even when I worked on the 55th floor. As someone noted, they aren't paying any attention. one would think there would be a crowd and a traffic jam if some one were dancing on a wire overhead. There would be today ( plus 1000 instant videos on YouTube.)
Makes me think of the Danish "line dancer" Elvira Madigan, whose life also is worth a story.
She lived on a small island Tåsinge in Denmark and was performing with a circus.
A film was made of her romance with the Swedish Sixten Sparre. They ran away together while he was still in the army and it came to a tragic end where he had to shoot them both in the wood. A gravestone is still standing in the wood on the island as well as in the churchyard.
As someone who lived in Manhattan for many years, I can say that we never look up. The mark of a tourist is that they always are looking up at the buildings. The residents don't look up. So the fact that people are going about their business in the video is no surprise at all. They probably don't even know she is there.
I'm curious about where the camera man is situated. Those closeup shots make me think that it's a recreation done against a background, but what do I know?
Were people larger-than-life in years past? Do we suffer from cookie-cutter celebrity these days? What a life she must have led.
What I think is it's a tragedy that she died in great pain. I would have hoped that before the government went nuts on the War on Drugs, that at least back then people in pain had access to things like laudanum, etc.
The woman in the video seems to have short hair, like the quintessential 1920's bob, which would be an unlikely hairstyle for a performer in 1917. Her costume, face and body shape also don't look quite like those of Bird Millman in the photograph and magazine cover.
Based on that, on the behavior of the crowd (documented vs. seen here) and other people's comments about scale, I would say this is a trick film, probably made in 1931 which refers to the publicity stunt from 1917.
Post a Comment