The birth of American popular culture
The Circus 1870-1950. Excerpt from an essay by Dominique Jando
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Every Free Inch a Billboard
Where else could you see, live and at close range, a group of graceful giraffes, a hippopotamus or a rhinoceros, the impressive sea elephant, Bengal tigers or Atlas lions, the bizarre okapi, a herd of zebras, the antics of a family of chimpanzees, and the mighty elephant, the undisputed king of the menagerie? Circuses plastered barn walls, wooden fences, and the sides of city buildings with thousands of posters showing roaring lions and tigers, charging rhinos, and furious hippos attacking natives hunting on the river Nile. These powerful and colorful depictions became an integral part of circus magic, a tempting tease of the wonders that awaited you. The circus was the main user of printed advertising at the time. Larger shows plastered thousands of lithographic posters each day; no other industry ever came close to these numbers. A few printing companies specialized in this very lucrative business, but the artists who churned out the true masterpieces of circus advertising worked for the Strobridge Lithograph Company offices in Cincinnati, Ohio, and New York City. The quantity of artwork this company produced during the golden age of the American circus comes in staggering numbers. Some designs were elaborate, others relatively simple, some were elegant, many were gaudy, but all were colorful, charged with energy, exalting the mundane, improving the extraordinary, exaggerating the extravagant. Even before you saw the actual show, the circus was already delivering its wonders far and wide with its advertising.
The Last Unknown People on Earth
Among the other wonders that the circus carried in its cornucopia of attractions was the uniquely American sideshow, the popularizing of which was Barnum's most distinctive contribution to the American circus. He didn't originate sideshow attractions (they had been traveling with American circuses since the 1850s at least), but they were a feature that he had promoted and cultivated with bold marketing techniques over many years.When the legendary showman accepted the invitation of circus entrepreneurs W. C. Coup and Dan Castello to join them in 1871, he brought to the collaboration what he would be best remembered for: an itinerant version of his American Museum in the circus sideshow. Though not as grand and educational as it pretended to be, his sideshow featuring "the Wild Men of Borneo," "the Aztec Children," and Zip, the "What Is It?," evoked dreams of mysterious wonders from lost and faraway worlds.When they came to the circus, audiences were ready and willing to dream.
The advertised exoticism was sometimes legitimate. Crowds gazed in awe at the "Genuine Ubangi Savages," with "mouths and lips as large as those of full-grown crocodiles," who came from an African tribe of platelipped women that lived in the depths of the Belgian Congo jungle. Or at "the Giraffe-Neck Women From Burma," who came from the Burmese Padaung tribe where women coiled brass around their necks to give the illusion of elongating them as a sign of beauty and tribal identity. Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey advertised them in 1933 as the "greatest educational feature of all time!" They generated tremendous curiosity and were a huge hit. The circus was a live substitute for today's National Geographic Channel - although National Geographic would certainly never have used the word "Ubangi," which is a river that runs between the Republic of Congo and the Democratic Republic of Congo and is nowhere near the region where the tribe actually came from. Roland Butler, one of Ringling's legendary press agents, had picked the name on a map. It sounded more exciting than Belgian Congo, the tribe's actual homeland. The circus, after all, was meant to sell fantasy.
Page [1] [2] [3]
Page [1] [2] [3]
Every Free Inch a Billboard
Where else could you see, live and at close range, a group of graceful giraffes, a hippopotamus or a rhinoceros, the impressive sea elephant, Bengal tigers or Atlas lions, the bizarre okapi, a herd of zebras, the antics of a family of chimpanzees, and the mighty elephant, the undisputed king of the menagerie? Circuses plastered barn walls, wooden fences, and the sides of city buildings with thousands of posters showing roaring lions and tigers, charging rhinos, and furious hippos attacking natives hunting on the river Nile. These powerful and colorful depictions became an integral part of circus magic, a tempting tease of the wonders that awaited you. The circus was the main user of printed advertising at the time. Larger shows plastered thousands of lithographic posters each day; no other industry ever came close to these numbers. A few printing companies specialized in this very lucrative business, but the artists who churned out the true masterpieces of circus advertising worked for the Strobridge Lithograph Company offices in Cincinnati, Ohio, and New York City. The quantity of artwork this company produced during the golden age of the American circus comes in staggering numbers. Some designs were elaborate, others relatively simple, some were elegant, many were gaudy, but all were colorful, charged with energy, exalting the mundane, improving the extraordinary, exaggerating the extravagant. Even before you saw the actual show, the circus was already delivering its wonders far and wide with its advertising.
The Last Unknown People on Earth
Among the other wonders that the circus carried in its cornucopia of attractions was the uniquely American sideshow, the popularizing of which was Barnum's most distinctive contribution to the American circus. He didn't originate sideshow attractions (they had been traveling with American circuses since the 1850s at least), but they were a feature that he had promoted and cultivated with bold marketing techniques over many years.When the legendary showman accepted the invitation of circus entrepreneurs W. C. Coup and Dan Castello to join them in 1871, he brought to the collaboration what he would be best remembered for: an itinerant version of his American Museum in the circus sideshow. Though not as grand and educational as it pretended to be, his sideshow featuring "the Wild Men of Borneo," "the Aztec Children," and Zip, the "What Is It?," evoked dreams of mysterious wonders from lost and faraway worlds.When they came to the circus, audiences were ready and willing to dream.
The advertised exoticism was sometimes legitimate. Crowds gazed in awe at the "Genuine Ubangi Savages," with "mouths and lips as large as those of full-grown crocodiles," who came from an African tribe of platelipped women that lived in the depths of the Belgian Congo jungle. Or at "the Giraffe-Neck Women From Burma," who came from the Burmese Padaung tribe where women coiled brass around their necks to give the illusion of elongating them as a sign of beauty and tribal identity. Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey advertised them in 1933 as the "greatest educational feature of all time!" They generated tremendous curiosity and were a huge hit. The circus was a live substitute for today's National Geographic Channel - although National Geographic would certainly never have used the word "Ubangi," which is a river that runs between the Republic of Congo and the Democratic Republic of Congo and is nowhere near the region where the tribe actually came from. Roland Butler, one of Ringling's legendary press agents, had picked the name on a map. It sounded more exciting than Belgian Congo, the tribe's actual homeland. The circus, after all, was meant to sell fantasy.
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The Circus, 1870-1950
Hardcover, 29 x 44 cm (11.4 x 17.3 in.), 670 pages
$ 200.00
$ 200.00
A journey into the glitter, the grit, and glory of 100 years of the American circus, including 1940s–50s color photographs that have never been seen before.






