STAGE HYPNOTISM

Dominion, Volume 27, Issue 36, 6 November 1933, Page 3

STAGE HYPNOTISM

George Robey “Gives the Show Away” In his book, “Looking Back on Life,” published last month, George Robey, the London comedian, gives the stage hypnotist away. He admits having been a “subject” of Professor T. A. Kennedy, who appeared in Wellington some forty years ago. George, as a very young man, aspired to be a comic singer, and when he saw the Kennedy performance, lie thought it was a good opportunity of proving to himself whether he could entertain an audience without exactly revealing himself. So he met Kennedy and offered his services as a mesmerised comic singer. Kennedy pretended at first that bis show was genuine, and asked young Robey had lie ever been mesmerised. George answered, “No, but if you like I’ll sit in front, and pretend you’ve mesmerised me. Then you can call me on to the platform, apparently under your spell.” Kennedy stared hard at the young man and asked, “Why should I do this?" “So that you can tell the audience you have turned me into a comic singer. Then I can sing a jsong,” said George. Kennedy hedged a little and then agreed, George bargaining that there was to be “no needle sticking, or drinking oil, or eating candles or pepper.” “Next night,” said Robey, “having selected my song I fared forth to the. Imperial Theatre and took a seat in the stalls. At a certain point in the programme, the mesmerist glared down at me, and executed a few rapid passes. Like a person in a dream I rose. My face slipped, my eyes grew vacant. Then apparently at his command I groped my way on to the stage amid a general hush. “The other subjects on the stage looked on with intense interest. “I walked up to the professor, closed my eyes, and waited He began to make passes over me. “Don’t forget,” I. whispered to him, through lips closed almost like a ventriloquist’s, “I am a comic singer!" ”1 heard him breathe deeply. Then he exclaimed in a loud voice: ‘Young man, you are now under my power. You will do whatever I tell you. You are a comic singer!”’ Then he told Robey to imagine that there was a piano down left, and that he was to approach it, give the key to the imaginary pianist, and sing a song, lie had selected “A Little Peach in the Orchard Grew,” which proved to be a lucky choice. It was received with paroxysms of joy by the audience. He was well on into the second chorus when one of the “subjects.” evidently enraged at Robey stealing so much of the limelight, rose and kicked him, which assault, coining unawares, caused him to lea]) forward across the footlights. and land standing in an empty stall seat. “My sudden descent upset an old gentleman in the next seat,” wrote Robey, “and for a few moments he and I and the neighbours were mingled in a wild jumble. Then I recovered my calm, disentangled myself, looked up at. Kennedy, and found him on the edge of the stage glaring down at me. pretending I was still under the influence. Climbing up I returned the gaze, resumed the song at. the exact, point I had left off, and proceeded to carry it through to a triumphant close.”