International photographer (Feb-Dec 1929)

Fourteen The INTERNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER May, 1929 Indians New Ma; By Herford Tynes Cowling INDIA, weird land of wizardry and magic, has bowed its head to the superiority of a new sorcery and enchantment. Motion pictures met the gaze of their magicians and their sorcerers and for the first time left these worldfamed conjurers of mystery spellbound. Since time unrecorded, the fakirs of the East have performed tricks that for speed and cleverness put the famous magicians of the western stage to shame. Within two feet of the eyes of their audiences they accomplished what was manifestly impossible so far as sight goes; but they had their own 'open-mouthed" turns when they first saw natural figures moving on a silver sheet. They looked first in superstitious awe, then with a narrowing of their shrewd eyes and a thirst for understanding. It was several years ago that the natural trick of projecting a moving picture struck them with the fullness of its possibilities. Now a dozen large companies and many more smaller ones are daily producing pictures under contracts worthy of foreign interest. They lost no time, once they understood the entire process, in getting the necessary equipment for this latest magic from the Western World. They, who had mystified the world, they, whose tricks had been the origin of many an American Magician's cleverest feature, were determined not to be outdone by this new and latest magic, this jugglery of celluloid and light. Once at work, they are earnest in an effort not to be outdone by a sorcery that has such a natural appeal for their own people. The result has been apparent in the pictures produced in India. They have placed their magic mango trees and their disappearing boys on the shelf; their flat throated, angry and poisonous cobras have given way to a greater, magic and one which needs no weird flute to charm. Before motion picture making became known to India it was not an unusual sight to see any one of the many men of mystery starting out for a day's work, with his snakes and other paraphernalia, to awe the simpler of his countrymen and all of the Western World tourists who lounge in the hotel patios. Now everything is changed. While a few fakirs remain to keep up the Oriental atmosphere around the hotel for the tourist, the professional entertainer is busy at some job in the art of making motion pictures. When he starts for work, it may be a day spent at a big open air studio or in the jungle on location. To one who understands their language, the vernacular he hears is much the same as might be heard on any of the big Hollywood lots while "Hindustani" for "camera" rings through the age entwined land of Kim. The director and camera crew consist of native men who have learned the mechanics of their profession through every scrap of information obtainable and are jealously familiar with its possibilities. Though they look through their cameras with the thoughtful eyes of apparent wisdom and confidence they see something different than our technicians. They see a beauty and mystery that is inbred in their souls backed by countless generations of Oriental mysticism. To conjure with their new toys, the aim in their minds is to perpetrate a "trick" that will appear as miraculous when projected on the screen. Any one of the dozens of trick bits that the average American slapstick comedy shows is a "punch" for their production. Picture stories of their own legendary origin are immensely popular and the local theaters using this brand instead of the American Herford Tynes Cowling requires no introduction to any cameraman. He was one of the very first globe-trotters with a motion picture camera equipment, having been for years with Burton Holmes. He has been in practically every country on earth and has had ivide experience in every branch of photography. After leaving Holmes, Mr. Cowling joined the visual education department of the Eastman Kodak Company as technical expert. He is a member of the I. A. T. S. E., Local No. 644, and will henceforth be a regular contributor to The International Photographer. product can always be sure of full houses. Never before had women actually taken part in public theatricals; in fact, neither a Hindu nor a Mohammedan man would appear on the stage in public. Men only play the part of actresses on the stage. But with the filmed shadow stage it is all different; not only does the Hindu like to practice the new magic but the Musselman is willing to scrap the old moslem law forbidding the "making of an image of any living thing" dictated by his Koran; and both have consented to permit their women to appear in filmed plays for public exhibition. Bang — goes the caste system on the toboggan — what medium will do as much for India in supplanting the antiquated and unjust caste system, as that of motion picture entertainment? As Mother India goes to the corner movie house to sit and peer with thirsting eyes, this new magic will plant the seed of desire for an understanding of the world beyond her secluded existence and customs begin to change. The new art has thrived long enough in India for names to become familiar to the theatergoing public. With casts composed entirely of native actors and actresses the picture fans have found the touch they were looking for. They created their own cinema stars. Selecting names for the actors and actresses was the same problem that it is in America. Catchy names, that would appeal, were the ones sought. "U Shave Yo" and "Nyi Bu," are among the popular appelations. These names are now heralded from Bombay to Rangoon with the blaze and blare that accompany John Barrymore or Janet Gaynor from Long Island to Hollywood. Their girls are winsome Orientals, glowing and glorious; colorful and deep. Their eyes have that indefinable mystery of the Orient plus a depth that is only found in India. They furnish the charm of the new magic and quicken the pulses with their seductive eyes and olive drab complexions. "Pale hands I love — Beside the Shalimar — Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell." "Love is the great mystery of life," says the Oriental and this seems to be the keynote of his delight at other mysteries and charms. Their amours are ever a mystery, a bewitching bit of sorcery. They are good screen material because they possess a charm that flickers from the silver sheet straight to the hearts of the spectators. No land is so full of pomp and ceremonies as India. At the courts of its Kings, Maharajas, Rajas, Nazims, and varied titled rulers, there is no lack of romance for natural settings. This domain that stretches from the tropic isle of Ceylon to the inimitable Taj Mahal, that undying tribute to an undying race, where the mighty Moguls "wrought like Titians but finished like jewelers," on to the everlasting snow capped peaks of the Himalayas where lies that jewel of all beauty, the vale of Kasmir. Picture a set with royal decorations, with carved cabinets of teak inlaid with ivory, a couch with a rich silken covering which extends to the bottom of its lion claw legs, a wall panel with an ebony dragon on a carved ivory background, and in the center the little tiger woman enthralling her lover. The usual hiding scene is necessary to the plot. In an American picture he would hide in the nearby clothes closet or behind a convenient curtain. In India that would never do. There must be some bit of the unusual thrown in to spice things up a bit, to touch the dominant chord of magic which rustles restlessly in the souls of its people. She touches a secreted button and the panel dragon section slides out revealing a small hidden chamber. Into this goes the lover. She touches the dragon's eye and the door again moves into place before the disturber enters. The lover is safe, the mystery angle has been added, the love scene has been fiery, and the pearl trimmed little lady registers Oriental delight that love and mystery have had their collective hour. Even the child actress with her fairylike trimmings and dainty wand senses the magic of things as her little inner soul senses the love that is to be hers some day. She makes a perfect cupid and revels in the phantasy. With the naturalness that is only to be found in a child where self-consciousness has not dwarfed other emotions, she rollicks through her part and brings love to an otherwise cold heart in the drama with a gesture of the tiny staff. Her physical presence is not supposed to be a part of the scene. She is [ Concluded on Page 24 ]