Something wicked this way comes

By ....

Andrew Loung investigates how the carnival sideshow has resurfaced with a new look for the 90's, and a desire to appeal to modern audiences.

Once upon a time, a peculiar American cultural spectacle known as" sideshow "became very popular. From the late 19th century to the 1950's, almost every circus, carnival, and county fair included a sideshow. The sideshows contained "curiousities", whose presence attracted customers with the promise of cheap thrills and unnatural sights. Curiousities could be devided into two separate types: Human Oddities and Specialty Acts. The human oddity is what Aristotle referred to as lusus naturae - the "joke of nature," or the freak. Common sideshow freaks included the bearded lady, the pinhead, conjoined twins, and the dwarf.

The specialty acts incorporated a variety of extraordinary perfomers,everything from magicians to strongmen to swordswallowers.Some acts required legitimate skills, while others relied on trickery and fabrication. By the late 1950's, though, the traditional sideshow became extinct, due to a number of factors, such as the demiss of the large traveling circuses and smaller carnivals, as well as a changing attitude towards the public exploitation of people with unconventional appearances.
In the 1990's, traveling sideshows, though few in number, are reappearing and reclaiming some of their past notoriety. And they have reinvented themselves while staying rooted in the traditions from which they sprang.

Scott McClelland, owner, performer, and master of ceremonies for Carnival Diablo,steps onto the stage with goulish makeup and gothic costume. the stage is ornamented with skulls, candles, and props such as an ominous electric chair sitting in one corner.

McClelland is a cross between the sinister Mr. Dark of Cooger & Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show {from Ray Bradbury's famous novel Something Wicked This Way Comes}and a gregarious game show host like Bob Barker or Monty Hall{ throughout the show he will ask people up from the audience to participate in the show}.

McClelland introduces the show by telling the audience that they will witness the "transcendence of the body and the strength of human spirit ."He then proceeds to perform several feats involving supposed paranormal activity. He reads the mind of a volunteer by pointing out the word she has chosen from a book across the stage. He also holds a makeshift seance,in which a table seemingly flies across the stage of its own volition.And then Scott McClelland concludes the first half of his show by pounding a six inch nail deep into his nostril.

During the second half of the show, McClelland is joined by two other performers. Newt and Leric. They intermingle a number of traditional sideshow feats, such as fire eating and lying on a bed of nails, with what appears to be more recent sideshow innovations, like eating broken glass, or being electrocuted on the electric chair.Though Carnival Diablo is just 7 years old, the show has been shaped with many of the traditional sideshow elements intact. McClelland ,in fact, is very conscious of the traditions of his craft. During the course of the two hour show, he refers constantly to the origins of the acts: many of the physical feats, such as impaling, are derived from ancient Indian fakirs,and the paranormal acts are steeped in the spiritualism of the 19th century.

McClelland is also quite aware of the Canadian tradition of sideshows. His grandfather, Professor N.P. Lewchuk, owned the largest sideshow in Canada during the 1920's and 1930's, and was sort of a Canadian P.T.Barnum."The sideshow is considered a distinctly American form of entertainment," McClelland said in a recent interview with the Varsity. But people forget there was alot of sideshow work going on in Canada. I want to dispel the myth that it is only an American experience. In reality, it had just as much strength here in Canada."

McClelland's spooky stage persona , has been tempered for the interview, but he is still a commanding presence with his Van Dyke beard, jet black hair standing on end like quills of a porcupine, and a pentagram hanging from his neck.He is eloquent, and displays a professional savvy and healthy preoccupation for what he describes as his life's work. His enthusiasm is a result of having started performing when he was 11 years old."When I was 10, my grandfather wrote me and proposed that I come work on his carnival midway, because whenever I was there, being the ham that I was, I always drew crowds to myself,"McClelland explained. "But he stated, if you want to become a performer, you must learn magic."His grandfather challenged Scott to perform one feat; if Scott was able to fool his grandfather, then he could become a performer.{ Scott chose the cups and balls}."Being a performer, being in the light of sideshow, means you have to create an illusionary world," McClelland said. "Knowing this helped me cut my teeth in the business very early."Until the age of 25, McClelland performed a one man Vaudeville Show, which incorporated magic, comedy,song-and-dance, and ventriloquism." But I wanted to delve into the darker side I had,"McClelland declared. At that point, he re-evaluated his career: he realized that his grandfather had taught him many sideshow feats, and he owned the largest freak museum in Canada.His grandfather recently deceased, McClelland procured his estate. On April Fool's Day, 1992, McClelland opened a stationary tourist attraction in Calgary. He named it Carnival Diablo. It was a freak museum, exhibiting such anomalies as two-headed calves.And every evening, at midnight, McClelland performed a sideshow within the Museum." The sideshow became so popular, I decided to start traveling with it," McClelland stated. "I keep the name Carnival Diablo because the name is attached to a sensation of fear, and of course, with fear come curiousity."

McClelland's objective is to continue the legacy of sideshow. He has total creative control of his show, and has trained 28 different performers in the seven years of Carnival Diablo's existence. And his vision of the sideshow is clear: it is not unalloyed sensationalism he seeks. Rather, he creates a mythological world for the audience to enter. " Mysticism- the mood and atmosphere- has always been a important element in traditional sideshows,"McClelland declared. " Nowadays, people think sideshows are just guys lifting things with their dicks. That's an embarrassment ,as far as I'm concerned."Much of contemporary society suffers from a Jerry Springer mentality, McClelland believes, where only excess is able to capture the attention. "The spectacle has to be so engrossingly terrible,"McClelland remarked, "like in those FOX TV specials where children are mauled by their pets, or we won't watch it."He does not claim to be a purist by any means, but McClelland feels that some modern sideshows are propagating this Jerry Springer-over-the-top style of entertainment, rather then concentrating on the art form. He feels that there is a lack of genuine skill, value, and dignity, in many of the current acts he has seen ."A guy lifting something with his dick," McClelland insisted,"is cheapening the ancient eastern traditions of transcending pain. It's demeaning to the human body, not elevating. And my sideshow is about elevating the human stature, by doing things that are seemingly impossible."

According to McClelland, there must be a certain amount of ritual and respect involved in the feats, or they're just people hurting themselvs.Thus , by melding the spectacle with the humanistic side, Carnival Diablo becomes sort of a morality play, which McClelland hopes will leave the audience, if not with answers, then at least with a thirst to know more about the metaphysical and spiritual limits of life.

And so McClelland is forthright about his duty. "I'm trying" he stated, "to put the show back in sideshow."