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Balopticon?The word "balopticon" is generally lost to history. A balopticon is sort of an early to mid-twentieth century missing link between a magic lantern and a more modern-day overhead projector.You could place an object, such as a print, on the balopticon, and its image would be projected up on the wall or on a screen so one could view or copy it. The following comes from a nice little Bausch & Lomb catalog, circa 1926. "With pictures occupying the place they do in our present day life no argument is required to set forth the advantages of optical projection as a means of instruction and entertainment. The use of a slide projector, however, makes it possible to direct the attention of every member of the class or audience to the same thing at the same moment, with ample opportunity for close observation. "A 'still' projection lantern requires no special knowledge or experience to operate. In results it also presents an advantage for serious work; of the individual pictures on a movie film only a fleeting glimpse is obtained, whereas 'still' pictures can be studied or enjoyed indefinitely. Furthermore, a greater amount of illustrative material is more readily available for this type of projection. Lantern slides can be quickly made of any subjects at little cost or rented at nominal rates, while the projection of opaque objects permits the immediate use of photo prints, post cards, drawings, maps and even solid objects. "These advantages are widely appreciated by schools, colleges, churches, Sunday schools, Y.M.C.A.'s and in the homes. Of such value do educators and religious leaders regard an appeal to the brain by way of the eye that no institution today is thought to be fully equipped unless it is provided with good projection lanterns." Just for some balance, though, here's what Norman Rockwell had to say on the subject. "The balopticon is an evil, inartistic, habit-forming, lazy and vicious machine! It also is a useful, time-saving, practical and helpful one. I use one often—and am thoroughly ashamed of it. I hide it whenever I hear people coming. "My two lame excuses for using it are: most of the other fellows use it, and nowadays you don't drive a horse and buggy when you can use a car. But, still, I am ashamed of using a balopticon and later I will tell you how I am able to use it less and less. Nevertheless, I always will have one on hand because it is a great help in many wholly good and legitimate ways." So what business is this of mine, you ask? Well, I was at an auction some years ago and one came up very late at night. It was in mint unused condition, big and black, very deco looking. I like photographica and wanted this previously unheard of (to me) item, which could have been had some other late night at this particular auction hall for a few dollars, but I ended up in a bidding war against a mysterious vampiric figure even further back in the shadows than myself. Never saw him before or since at any local auctions. He took it for $150.00 or so but I should have kept going. It all happened so fast after this machine was hoisted up out of the battered original box which had protected it for so long. This box was way underneath a table during the preview and I figured it was filled with ratty linens or Tupperware or I would have been more forewarned and forearmed. Methinks there was some kind of sneaky auction house deal going on, where they put it up at the end on purpose. I may find another, you say? Nonsense! There can never be another balopticon like that one. I've seen and owned quite a few since, and most are in poor, dirty condition . . . inferior models with blown bulbs and frayed cords. For purposes of illustration, there's always a junky one up on eBay . . . eviscerated stragglers which were pale imitations to begin with. This was the unicorn, Titanic, and mother of all balopticons. It belonged to some guy named Kelly, a top-drawer late Victorian gent who steamed all over our planet in the first third of this century before it became so despoiled. For months great items and box lots from "the Kelly estate" kept coming up in the wee hours, long after the truly fabulous pieces had departed in Volvos and panel trucks to the south or east, gathering more value as they rolled off Rube Mountain downstate or toward the coast like giant money snowballs. The late night Kelly leftovers would have been the treasures at lesser auction houses, but at this class joint they were the dregs, and I was only competing against fellow bottom feeders by that point. I feel like I know the guy, from his buying habits, his photo albums, the ephemera he saved, his deluxe shaving kit (particularly profitable), etc. I purchased an entire wall of great books reflecting his taste in reading, many leatherbound, for $5.00 (those were the days). Kelly's expensive balopticon was a thing of rare beauty because it was "new old," old but never or sparingly used, with gleaming optics, a large watt high voltage tubular Mazda lamp ("the most powerful illuminant allowed on an ordinary lighting circuit by the Board of Underwriters"), and a black matte finish to the metal. Not a speck of dust on it. It's impossible that there could be a cleaner or better working balopticon left on the face of the earth, including museums, and it belonged to Mr. Kelly! I tossed and turned at night just thinking about that balopticon, finally falling into fitful sleep. It hovered just beyond reach in my dreams, and just when I went to grab it an auctioneer's hammer hit me on the head. Balopticon with the Wind. Here Today, Balopticon Tomorrow. I saw a psychiatrist about this whole thing but he finally gave up and said it was a hopeless case of projection. One day, though, cold, hard reality set in. "Hey, it's only a balopticon, you knucklehead. Let go." Any lingering demons were assuaged by appropriating the name, and the rest is minor history. I'm almost back to normal now. Actually, "balopticon" is a ridiculous word, and it's really funny to hear bank tellers and telemarketers trying to pronounce it. And not to stretch a point, but one can view books and ephemera as magic lantern slide projections from the past, refracting off into the future like light or pure thought (sort of). Besides, the B sound makes nice alliteration with Books. Finally, it is a unique domain word in an increasingly crowded internet. More than you needed to know, eh? |
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