In this case not only was poor Fred guilty of papercide but he had also fallen victim to what psychologists call an error due to perceptual expectancy or a mistake in perception due to our human proclivity for developing mental sets or expectations of things to come. Magicians take advantage of this human failing to fake us out, and professional communicators use it to lure us into their messages. We constantly make mental guesses about how people, events, or things will be. Sometimes we are correct and other times we are wrong-and sometimes we are deliberately deceived. It is our mental “set” that causes us to literally see what we expect to see and hear what we expect to hear. Since we constantly make assumptions or mental guesses about how things will be, it is hardly surprising that we are often wrong and often misled.

A clear example of this fact and the operation of this perceptual principle occurred recently in a series of strange events in a modest but comfortable brick home in a quiet, middle-class neighborhood of a central Kentucky city - events that convinced the homeowners and a neighbor that they were entertaining a full-fledged poltergeist or “noisy ghost.”

The case began with a phone call from Mrs. S., a sixty-two-year-old housewife and mother who, both hesitant and apologetic, informed me that some very strange things had been happening in her house over the past few months. Mrs. S. told me of flying telephones, appliances that start by themselves, doors that slam mysteriously, and ghostly pool games. Since her account was tantalizing enough to warrant a personal visit, I told her to make an annotated list of everything that had happened and that I would be there in a few days.

The following week I drove to the house and was greeted by Mr. and Mrs. S. and their middle-aged neighbor, Mrs. R., who had, during her visits, also experienced two of the startling events: a suddenly slamming door and a leaping telephone. Mrs. S. had, as I requested, made a comprehensive list of the unusual events. They were:

1. Pool balls clacking in the basement and the voices of people playing billiards. Yet no one was in the basement pool room.
2. Months later Mrs. S.'s son and his friend were frightened by a "mysterious force” that disturbed the air and also caused a valvehead cover to leap off a shelf.
3. On one occasion Mrs. S. saw her son seated in the front seat of his Corvette - a car he had been repairing in the basement garage - but upon going upstairs she found this son watching TV.
4. While vacuuming the bedroom Mrs. S. turns off the cleaner and goes into the kitchen to answer the phone. Suddenly, someone turns on the vacuum. When Mrs. S. investigates no one is there but the family dog.
5. Four adults - Mr. and Mrs. S. and Mr. and Mrs. R. - sitting around the kitchen table “see,” out of the corner of their eyes, the telephone suddenly leap from the phone stand onto the floor under the table.
6. While the neighbor, Mrs. R., was leaving the small bathroom between the bedroom and the kitchen to enter the kitchen - someone or some force - violently slams the door leading to the bedroom.
7. One evening while preparing dinner and in process of melting butter in a small skillet, Mrs. S. heard the front door bell. To avoid scorching the butter, Mrs. S. sat the skillet atop an empty saucepan on the back burner and hurried to the door. Returning minutes later, she finds the skillet - melted butter unspilled - sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. No one had entered or left the kitchen but Mrs. S.
8. A flower pot holding a spider plant and hanging from the kitchen ceiling periodically shakes and vibrates in an unpredictable manner for no apparent reason. A second plant, similarly suspended and in line with the first but at the other end of the room neither shakes nor vibrates.
9. With the exception of the phantom pool game, all of the other events occurred within a few weeks of each other over the space of two or three months. The pool game had happened several years before.

I began my investigation by assembling Mr. and Mrs. S. and Mrs. R. around the dining room table and going over the list with them in order to gain additional details and specific information relevant to the happenings. I also told the group that ghostbusters like myself proceeded by looking first for all possible natural causes for the phenomena before resorting to occult or supernatural explanations. If it so happened that none of the natural or scientific explanations proved to be satisfactory then - and only then - did we seek out uncanny causes or conclude that something unearthly was at work. All agreed that this strategy made good common sense and was a sound way to operate.

Proceeding chronologically, I studied each event, examined the artifacts of concern, inspected the surrounding environment, and interviewed each of the individuals involved. My findings are summarized below:

1. The Phantom Pool Game - Careful interrogation revealed that the only one who reported hearing “voices” in the pool room was Mrs. S.'s 86-year-old mother who was, admittedly, hard of hearing. Moreover on other occasions the grandmother had - as elderly, semi-deaf people frequently do - mistaken street and other noises for human voices. Both ladies did, nevertheless, agree that they had heard “clacking pool balls.” On inspecting the wall-mounted rack holding the pool balls when they were not in play I found it to be suspended by a single screw at the top. The slightest nudge or movement does cause the rack to swing in a pendulum-like fashion and causes the pool balls to roll back and forth clacking against each other noisily. Any house or foundation vibration could and did cause the rack to sway and the loose balls to “clack” against each other. A finger tap against the bottom edge of the rack not only caused the rack to sway back and forth but also produced a number of clacks. Such noises ordinarily would not be heard from upstairs unless one opened the basement door and listened intently, as the two ladies had at the time of the phantom pool game. While in the pool room I also noticed slight and periodic vibrations of the entire house structure. According to Mr. S. who built the house, they were due to the bedrock foundation and heavy truck traffic on the nearby interstate. Ergo: no game was in progress and the clacking in sounds were caused by the pool balls rolling in the wall rack. The voices, if any, were misinterpretations of other noises or sounds issuing from places other than the basement pool room.
2. The Mysterious Force - The fact that several years elapsed between the phantom pool game and the next mysterious event logically rules against the presence of a “resident” poltergeist continually harassing the family. On interviewing Mrs. S.'s 23-year-old son and his friend, I discovered they had recently acquired a damaged Corvette they were in process of restoring. Since the car had been involved in a fatal accident, the two friends were telling each other ghost stories and trying to “freak each other out.” Then, when a greasy valve cover carelessly placed too near the edge of a downward slanting shelf slid off, bounced off the Corvette hood, and clattered noisily across the concrete floor - the two concocted the story of the “mysterious force.” Neither took the event seriously and the son saw it as an opportunity to tease his mother whom he regarded as overly superstitious anyway.
3. The Phantom Son - This event was closely related to the one above. Since the son had been working on the interior of the Corvette for several nights in a row, Mrs. S. was accustomed to seeing him inside the car every evening. Taking a quick glance in the car and expecting to see him there, she did see him there even though he had already gone upstairs. Such misperceptions, based upon our mental set, are very, very common. Further, it is also possible that Mrs. S. may have seen her own reflection in the dark-tinted windows of the car and mistook it for that of her son. Of course, if Mrs. S. had stopped, opened the car door, peered inside and tried to talk to her son, she would have immediately recognized her error. Mrs. S. admitted that she merely gave the car a passing glance and and was surprised only after going upstairs and finding her son there and not downstairs.
4. The Self-Starting Vacuum - Inspecting the vacuum cleaner and turning the handlemounted, sliding switch on and off several times, it was soon obvious that this sliding switch could be delicately poised at a point where even the slightest jar would flip the switch from off to on. Following several delicate adjustments, I was able to turn the vacuum on and then turn it off in such a way that even the slightest movement imparted to either the floor or the base or handle of the cleaner itself would be sufficient to put the vacuum in service. “When you turned it off and left it sitting in the middle of the hall was anyone or anything in the hall or bedroom?” I asked. “No,” Mrs. S. replied. "And when you returned had anything at all changed? Did anyone or anything come down the hall?” “No,” she answered, “the only thing different was that our dog was now lying on the bed.” In other words, the dog came down the hall and into the bedroom after you left? “Yes, that’s right.” I then demonstrated to Mrs. S. the delicate position of the switch and just how easy it was to turn it on by merely giving the handle a gentle nudge. I explained that most likely when she shut it off she left the switch in this very sensitive position and when the dog came down the hall and bumped against the vacuum he was responsible for turning it on. Mrs. S., again, accepted this possibility as both plausible and likely.
5. The Leaping Phone - On inspecting the phone on its stand, I was told that the hand-held phone and the base upon which it rested was in the same place and position it was on the day it “jumped off and fell under the dining room table.’ The first thing I noticed was the relatively unstable position of the telephone due to its being balanced atop three books - a city directory and two phone books - with the phone resting on the smallest book on top. The phone and its base, an automatic answering machine, was connected to the wall outlet about three feet away by two parallel wires: 1) the phone line; and 2) a standard 110V power cord. There was a moderate amount of slack in the two lines so that both rested lightly on the floor between the stand and the wall outlet. If one picked up the wires between the outlet and the stand and gave them a quick jerk it would pull the phone off the stand and dump in onto the floor under the dining room table. Mrs. S, at the time of the leap, was sitting in a chair half way between the stand and the wall outlet, less than a foot away from the wall and the dangling lines. When I asked Mrs. S. if the back legs of any of the chairs had ever become entangled in the phone wires she replied that she couldn’t remember it but she did admit that it was possible. Most of the time she said she was careful. I then demonstrated how easy it was to lift and set the chair down in such a way that the back leg of the chair came down between the wall and the wires. I then told her, “Don't look down. Just sit down and scoot the chair up to the table. When she did this the two wires were drawn taut with the phone poised precariously atop the books on the stand. “Now shift your chair, Mrs. S., either forward or sideways.” As soon as she complied the phone toppled from the stand and would have bounced under the table had not I put a cushion underneath to catch it and prevent damage. Mr. and Mrs. S. and Mrs. R. all agreed this was the most probable cause of the original event. Because of their fright and surprise none of them recalled the exact position of either the chair or the wires after the phone hit the floor. My original supposition was that the family dog, a large friendly beagle, had been responsible. According to Mrs. R., however, the dog was asleep On the floor beside her chair on the opposite side of the table from the phone.
6. The Slamming Door - The unusually small (536-foot) utility bathroom, located between the kitchen and one of the bedrooms, has two doors: one from the kitchen and one from the bedroom. On entering the room and repeatedly opening and shutting one of the doors while the other stood ajar, I was immediately impressed by the amount of air pressure created by the doors opening and closing. According to Mrs. R., the neighbor, she had just washed her hands and was moving into the kitchen when the door behind her - the door going into the bedroom - was violently slammed. To recreate the event I stood in the center of the room with the bedroom door ajar and the door to the kitchen closed. Giving the bedroom door a gentle push I was surprised to find the door so delicately balanced it slammed shut with ease. Even a single finger push resulted in a fairly hard slam. The most violent slam, however, occurred with the bedroom door ajar and the kitchen door closed. Suddenly opening the kitchen door and pulling it quickly toward me generated so much air pressure the bedroom door slammed violently. With Mrs. R. watching, I demonstrated how the slam could have occurred in either one of two ways: first, after washing and drying her hands in the small area and in process of turning to open the kitchen door, her heel could have easily given the bedroom door enough impetus to cause it to slam; or, second, in opening the closed door into the kitchen suddenly pulling it back, the resulting change in air pressure in the small confined area would suffice to slam the bedroom door with force. Mrs. R. was not certain which of the two things had happened but she did accept one or both as the most reasonable and probable causes of the original event.
7. The Flying Skillet - By having Mrs. S. repeat her actions just as she performed on the evening the skillet flew from the stove, it was evident that natural causes were again responsible. According to Mrs. S. she was melting butter and heating it on one of the front burners of her four-burner electric stove. After the butter melted she heard the front door bell, and, not wanting the the butter to scorch, she picked the skillet up and set it atop a small saucepan containing water which was heating on one of the back burners. In carrying out her actions for me and using the same skillet and saucepan, it was clear that she set the skillet on the saucepan at a precarious angle. This, she assured me, was the way she had done it originally. Moving over to the stove and giving the skillet a gentle forward tap, the skillet slid off the saucepan, bounced across the front burner, slid down from the top of the stove to land flat on the kitchen floor approximately in the same position where it was propelled by the hypothetical poltergeist. I explained to Mrs. S. that any vibration or even a boiling, vibrating pan could easily dislodge the skillet and send it skittering across the stove and onto the floor contents intact - depending, of course, upon the angle of the fall. While it was somewhat unusual that none of the butter spilled, the fact that it could have had sufficient time to cool and congeal after being removed from the high heat should not be overlooked.
8. The Shaking Spider Plant - When Mrs. S. called my attention to the spider plant suspended from the ceiling she also said that it periodically vibrates for no apparent reason. Mr. S. corrected his wife by saying he believed the vibrations were due to heavy traffic on Interstate 75, located a few hundred yards away. During the time I watched the plant it would clearly shake for few seconds and then stop, alternating between movement and stillness every few seconds. After I moved to a nearby window and watched the distant traffic on the interstate, there was little doubt as to the source of the vibrations. The reason the second plant failed to vibrate was due simply to the fact that this plant had larger, heavier, and thicker leaves and it was located in a position less sensitive to the tremors caused by the heavy truck traffic. This vibration, I am convinced, proved to be a significant causative factor in a number of the unusual events, particularly the pool game and the flying skillet.

Summary and Conclusions

Although singly each of the events would not have led Mr. and Mrs. S. and their neighbors to assume something of a paranormal nature was afoot, the concatenation of these events over a short period of time did lead to the development of a perceptual set which made each subsequent event more uncanny than the one before. Thus, gradually, the couple made the assumption that something supernatural and even “poltergeist-like” must be involved. Since they and their neighbors were intelligent, well-educated, and somewhat skeptical from the outset, they quickly and readily accepted the naturalistic explanations I provided. They were, in fact, grateful and relieved by my assurance that their home was free and clear from any and all spiteful and demonic influences.

Had somewhat less skeptical and more superstitious individuals been involved, the outcome would have been significantly different. Each succeeding event would have convinced true believers in ghosts that a poltergeist was, indeed, at work. With such a perceptual set it is probable that additional ghostly pranks would have occurred. The less skeptical, with different perceptual expectancies, would have seen all of these events as positive proof of a persistent spectre. Moreover, they would have presented their case in such a way that the editors of Fate, The National Enquirer, Globe, Star, Sun and Weekly World News would be delighted to feature it in their pages as indisputable proof of a spiritual invasion. Readers of such periodicals would, I am sure, agree that ghosts are not only real but they can be found everywhere at any time. It is also likely that they would regard my present efforts at poltergeisticide as purile and foolish attempts to explain away positive and conclusive evidence of a very real and geisty presence.

In cases like this one, our perceptual errors can be of major consequence. On other occasions these mental sets and misperceptions have led to tragic consequences. On July 3, 1988, the crew of the U.S.S. Vincennes shot down an Iranian Airbus killing 290 people. This was an even clearer example of the perceptual expectancy principle at work. Fearing an attack, both the commander and the crew believed they were in jeopardy and fired in self-defense. Military psychologists have long been aware that soldiers, sailors, and airmen in their first battle suffer considerable stress before and during the fighting and may confuse their expectancies with reality. Not only do such tragedies make it doubly important that we carefully check our facts before jumping to conclusions but also that we recognize and pay more attention to the limitations and deficiencies of normal human perception. As for geists - polter- or otherwise - before blaming them for every domestic anomaly we cannot explain we would do well to apply Harrington’s principle of “least astonishment.” In his book Dance of The Continents (1983) Harrington states:

Understanding is a sport of participation and therefore something of a game. . . . The game has only one rule: draw the least astonishing conclusion that can be supported by the known set of facts. . . . Every least astonishing conclusion is a winner, judged to be the most probable choice of all the available competitors.

Book 1 City of Iron
Book 2 Empire of Dust
Book 3 Siege of Stone
New York: Avon Books, 1998-1999. $5.99 each.

I don’t ever watch The X-Files; it’s one of those shows that I find very predictable, even with its paranormal aspects. I recently won an auction on eBay for CSICOP’s library and when I received the item I bid on, I also received the Searchers series and a letter from the person I won the auction from-the author Chet Williamson. His letter explained the books and his objectives and his obstacles. I was not even going to read them at first. But the last page of each of the novels tells the readers “to further investigate the reality of the paranormal” by reading Gordon Stein’s Encyclopedia of the Paranormal, Martin Gardner’s The New Age, James Randi’s An Encyclopedia of Claims and Frauds and Carl Sagan’s The Demon-Haunted World. He also suggested visiting CSICOP’s Web site (http://www.csicop.org). There might be something to this, I thought, so I decided to read them just to see what he had to say.

Normally, fiction is not reviewed in either the Skeptical Inquirer or the Skeptical Briefs, but after reading these books, it became apparent that this series is written particularly towards skeptics, people who are interested in the mission of CSICOP, as well as those who know CSICOP and skepticism. The basic premise of the series is that three CIA operatives, who, unbeknownst to themselves, are asked by a rogue CIA director to investigate paranormal activities and claims and not to find out the truth, but to debunk them and send him reports regarding these claims. This goes against what CSICOP stands for - namely scientifically examining these claims and neither proving or disproving, but keeping an open mind without dismissing these claims out-of-hand. What makes this interesting to skeptics, however, is that one of the operatives is a long-time hardcore skeptic, writer and reader of the Skeptical Inquirer. CSICOP, famous skeptics, and skeptical principles make appearances throughout each of the books.

Famous cases, such as the investigation into the Borley Rectory hauntings, are discussed, as are the principles of scientifically examining these claims. But the overall problem with this series is the same problem faced by skeptics when dealing with the media: The supernatural and paranormal sells - skepticism does not. Williamson’s series, in an attempt to sell books, does have unexplainable elements and characters that have extraordinary "powers.” In his letter, Williamson points out that this is what the editors wanted when he made the deal with them. He was also able to add the skeptical elements to these fictional works, and the works are therefore unlike other works that are entirely "pro-paranormal.” I do not have a problem with Williamson’s series as fiction that tries to teach skeptical principles and skepticism, and that skepticism is a good thing.

The Searchers series ties into the “Unified Theory” aspect of the paranormal too. In this way, it is like The X-Files because it ties in Templars, the Holy Grail, crop circles, Bigfoot, UFOs, zombies, vampires, demonology and even the basic beliefs of Christianity into one story. This works because Williamson is able to examine all types of phenomena, and to show how they would be investigated or how they were investigated in the past, what to look for while investigating these phenomena, and many of the false assumptions people can make while examining the evidence.

I really enjoyed the subtle ways the skeptical viewpoints were introduced and the insider jokes placed throughout the series. My favorite is one where the team was investigating an occurrence, and they interviewed a drugged-up New Ager together and then broke up and interviewed others singly. When asked how the other interviews went, one of the operatives stated that the other interviewees made the first one look like Martin Gardner.

Despite its attempt at a New Age, X-Files type of appeal (including what the author called “an X-Files meets Men in Black rip-off cover”), I recommend this as a nice fictional work, with the paranormal as a subject, but dealing with it in a skeptical way. It is also a good first attempt to bring skepticism in a small way to a mainstream audience.

In addition to the Campbell “brothers” (the subject of Part 1 in the March Skeptical Briefs), the other major spiritualists whose mediumship produced “spirit” paintings were the Bangs sisters of Chicago.

Misses Elizabeth S. and May E. Bangs were reportedly mediums since childhood, but their “gift” of spirit painting did not appear until the fall of 1894 (Chesterfield 1986). They offered clairvoyance, séance trumpet effects and spirit "materializations,” “direct” (or so-called automatic) writing, spirit typewriting, and slate effects. But they were most famous for their allegedly ghost-rendered paintings. Their business card advertised, “Life Sized Spirit Portraits a Specialty” ("Bangs Sisters” n.d.; Swann 1969). Indeed, they appear to have made something of a racket of it, as indicated by an Associated Press story of 1908. A woman who alleged to be the wife of a Chicago millionaire accused May Bangs of enticing him into a bigamous relationship, the man having been, it was claimed, “inveigled into the marriage through the instrumentality of a ‘spirit portrait’ of his dead mother"-produced by the Bangs sisters ("Spirit” 1908).

The Bangses were exposed as tricksters many times. For example a minister, Rev. Stanley L. Krebs (1901) sat for one demonstration that involved producing a “spirit” reply to a multi-paged letter that he had been instructed to bring, sealed in an envelope. At the beginning of the séance it was placed between two bound slates. Careful observation, and the use of a small mirror that permitted viewing under the table, allowed Krebs to see how the bound slates were secretly wedged apart and the envelope dropped into Miss Bangs’s lap from whence it was transferred to a tray on the floor and drawn under a closed door. In time, after her accomplice/sister had done her work of steaming open the envelope and penning a reply, the seemingly impossible effect was completed.

The sisters used a variety of techniques for their spirit portraits. Typically, for reasons skeptics may well imagine, “their method was to have the sitter bring a photograph of the dead person to be painted, and the following day the spirits would paint the portrait . . .” (Mulholland 1938, 158). For one-day service, the photograph was reportedly “concealed” from the sisters’ view (Swann 1969, 4), but they may have gotten access to it much as they did the previously described letter.

According to a booklet published at the Indiana spiritualist colony Camp Chesterfield (where the Bangses had a cottage for a number of years), the sisters’ earliest work involved “a locked cabinet or curtained off space” and “several ‘sittings’ were necessary.” Later, the “canvas” (actually a paper-mounted panel) was placed before a window with light streaming through, and the sitter watched the picture progress over a period of up to forty minutes or so. Still later, the sisters were able to produce artworks in “as little as five minutes” (Swann 1969, 3).

Reportedly, the Bangs sisters’ portraits were examined by unnamed “art experts” who concluded they were not done in any known artistic medium. Rather, the colored substance “could be compared to the dust on a butterflys [sic] wings” (Swann 1969, 3). That is, the particulate matter resembled pollen, and would thus seem consistent with a pastel “painting” (i.e., a drawing done in pastel crayons, which consist of pigment mixed with gum).

In fact, at Lily Dale, a spiritualist community in Western New York, where the sisters resided for many seasons, I was able to examine two of their “spirit” portraits that were framed and mounted under glass (as would be expected for certain media, like watercolors or pastels, but not others, e.g., oils). I used an illuminated 10X loupe for the inspection. Having myself done portraits in oils, pastels, watercolors, and numerous other media, I saw very familiar characteristics that I could not distinguish from ordinary pastel renderings (Woolwich 1996), including layering and blending of colors and even unmistakable crayon strokes (as in the hair; see figure 1). Indeed, although claiming that, for some pictures, the spirits under the Bangses’ mediumship furnished “their own colouring matter,” one contemporary source stated that “for the usual portraiture, coloured French pastels are placed in front of the canvas and these are used by the spirit artists-by a process called ‘precipitation'” (Coates 1911, 294).

But how were the pictures actually produced? The evolution of their techniques would seem consistent with deception. The early cabinet method suggests the pictures were simply painted by the sisters out of patrons’ view, and the latest productions (done in "five minutes”) no doubt involved the substitution of a previously prepared picture. The ‘window’ technique is interesting, and to my knowledge the secret has never been revealed publicly.

Explaining the technique is made difficult by the conflicting descriptions given by credulous observers who lacked knowledge of conjuring methods and who may have misperceived or misremembered exact details. Some accounts insist the effect was produced “in broad daylight” with the blank picture panel simply standing on a table before a window, but as May Bangs herself admitted (1910), "The room is shaded sufficiently to cause all the light from the window to pass through the canvas.” A more detailed explanation states:

Two identical, paper-mounted canvases in wooden frames were held up, face to face, against the window, the lower edges resting on a table and the sides gripped by each medium with one hand. A short curtain was hung on either side and an opaque blind was drawn over the canvases. With the light streaming from behind[,] the canvases were translucent. After a quarter of an hour the outlines of shadows began to appear and disappear as if the invisible artist made a preliminary sketch, then the picture began to grow at a feverish rate and when the frames were separated the portrait was found on the paper surface of the canvas next to the sitter. Though the paint was greasy and stuck to the finger on being touched, it left no stain on the paper surface of the other canvas which closely covered it [Fodor 1933].

The effect was reproduced by stage magicians who were probably inspired by the Bangs sisters’ phenomenon. As described in Thayer’s Quality Magic Catalog (1928), two canvasses were placed face to face in a frame before “a powerful light from the rear.” Then:

With the house lights off and while all eyes are intent upon the white illuminated canvas, slowly and faintly at first, a dim shadow appears. Gradually this shadow grows larger and becomes more distinct. The outlines begin to take shape, colors appear, and in a few short moments, a perfect finished picture in all its brilliancy of color is before them.

Thayer’s catalog did not, of course, explain how the trick worked, but-significantly-prepared “spirit” portraits were sold with the apparatus. Whatever the secret, it may have been virtually identical to the method used by the Bangses. One notes that, like theirs, the Thayer method employed two canvases, and I think therein lies the crux of the matter.

After considerable experimentation, I have found a way to produce what seems a very similar effect. Someone witnessing it might well write, as one of the Bangses’ clients did (Payne 1905): "At first it was a faint shadow, then a wave appeared to sweep across the canvas, and the likeness became plainer. It was a good deal like a sunrise-got brighter until it was perfectly plain and every feature visible.” The effect is of a picture seeming to slowly materialize and gradually coming into focus. Indeed, that is just what occurs in the method I came up with.

Briefly, here is my hypothetical reconstruction of a Bangses’ spirit-picture séance. Prior to the client entering the room, the previously prepared picture (rolled up perhaps) is secreted in its hiding place (for example in a drawer on the back of the table). The sitter is invited inside, allowed to casually inspect the premises, and invited to take a seat. The two blank panels are placed face to face, stood up on the table, and held by a sister seated on either side. The aforementioned short curtains are drawn to each side and the opaque blind pulled down. The spirits are invoked, while under cover of the drawn blind, one sister uses her free hand to extract the picture from its hiding place and attach it to the face of the rearmost panel which is laid on the table behind the other panel. All is now ready for the blind to be raised.

Figure 2: Two paper panels are placed together before a window (or in this case a light box), with a hand showing nothing else is interjected.

Figures 3-5: In the transmitted light a "cloudiness” forms (not shown), then colors and shapes gradually come into view; A face begins to be recognizable and eventually becomes even sharper; Finished portrait on one panel (shown in reflected light) is presented to sitter. Lincoln pastel portrait and photos by author.

Light is seen streaming through the blank panel, which will function as a sort of screen on which the seemingly materializing image will be projected from the rear. At a suitable time, one of the sisters, using her free hand behind the curtain, stands the picture panel upright a few inches from the other, an action which creates a shadowy, clouded effect upon the “screen.” Slowly, the picture panel is moved forward, and, as it approaches the screen, colors appear, followed by a blurry face which eventually comes into focus and is recognized. Finally, the completed picture is revealed in full light at the end of the séance (figures 2-5).¹

That the Bangses employed some technique such as I have hypothesized² is consistent with the overall scenario described in various accounts (Coates 1911; Fodor 1933; “Bangs Sisters” n.d.). It would certainly explain the otherwise puzzling use of two panels: the extra one serving both as a shield to hide the portrait panel from view and as a screen on which to permit rear projection of the image. The following account is also instructive:

A few minutes after they [the face and form] began to appear, the psychics (apparently under impression) lowered the canvas toward me until it touched my breast. May Bangs then got a message by Morse alphabet [supposed spirit-rappings] on the table: ‘Your wife is more accustomed to see me in the other aspect.’ Up went the canvas again and I saw the profile and bust, but turned round in the opposite direction; instead of the face looking to the right, it was looking to the left. The portrait then proceeded apace, until all the details were filled in . . . [Moore 1910]

This is consistent with the methodology I have described, it having been merely necessary to “flop” (reverse) the picture panel as it was returned to its place on the table.

In some accounts the picture behind the screen seemed to be manipulated in and out of focus. For example, one witness described how the developing image “disappeared, but came back very soon clearer than before” ("Bangs Sisters” n.d.) One case featured an illusion involving “three pairs of eyes” that “showed on the canvas at once in different poses and places” (an effect that could easily have been accomplished with a separate sheet of paper on which the sets of eyes were rendered).

Many times the spirit-picture production ended with a very interesting effect: the portrait’s eyes-which up to that point had been closed-suddenly (or sometimes gradually) opened, “like a person awakening” (Payne 1905; Coates 294-331). Now, the same effect was actually a popular parlor diversion of the Bangses’ time (the late nineteenth to early twentieth century) with advertising cards being specially printed for the purpose. One for Stafford’s Ink, for instance, depicted a little girl with closed eyes, behind which-printed on the reverse with good registration-were a pair of heavily outlined, open eyes. In ordinary viewing (reflected light) the child slept, but when the card was held up to a window or lamp (i.e., viewed in transmitted

light) the open eyes became dominant and she suddenly awoke.

This effect may have been copied by the Bangs sisters, although it would have been accomplished differently, since the portrait-side of the finished picture would have required open eyes. Having closed eyes behind (as on an overlay) would not seem to work, since the open eyes (with their dark irises and pupils) would still dominate from the beginning. There may be several ways to solve the problem: the effect might simply have been produced by tipping the picture forward so that the eyes were brought into focus, coupled with the power of suggestion; or the finished, open eyes might actually have been drawn in, in a final stage, under some pretext of pulling down the opaque blind; or by some other method. (For example it is possible to have a removable, opaque material applied on the back to the area behind the eyes so that, in transmitted light, there appear deep, shaded sockets, but when the material is peeled off the eyes open.) In any event one sitter did report that, before opening, the eyes of the spirit portrait were ”indistinct and apparently closed” (emphasis added; Holland 1909).

Although, as indicated earlier, the Bangs sisters may not always have received a photograph of the deceased subject in advance of the séance, they could nevertheless proceed once they gained access (by some subterfuge) to the photo. One sister could then go off to produce the portrait while the other kept the patron distracted. For example, one wrote:

Entering the seance-room, and finding only three canvases, I selected two of them, took them out in the sunlight, in company with one of the Miss Bangs, exposed them for fifteen minutes to the strong rays of the noonday sun, examined the surface thoroughly to fully assure myself that they were not chemically prepared, at the same time to secretly mark them for identification.

Subsequently the identification marks would show that the "canvas” had not been switched (Thurston 1910). (If the panel was not marked-most accounts omit that detail-the procedure is simplified, since the portrait can be prepared on a panel that is switched for one of the selected ones, eliminating the need to surreptitiously affix the picture to a panel during the séance.)

One incident is particularly revealing: A couple who had sought a picture of their deceased son concluded that the resulting image resembled him only “in a general way” and “was not even a fairly good portrait.” In rationalizing the failure, one writer pointed out (perhaps more wisely than he knew) that the couple “had no photograph of their departed son with them” (Coates 1911, 325). Thus the Bangs sisters were apparently left with few options. They could fish for a description (in the manner of a police artist eliciting an eyewitness’s recollection) or opt to produce a generalized child’s portrait which the credulous couple might accept. In contrast, when a photograph had been brought to the sitting, the “spirit” painting might be pronounced “a perfect enlargement of the original . . .” ("Bangs Sisters” n.d.). Whatever techniques the sisters actually employed - and May Bangs (1910) acknowledged that “No two sittings” were “exactly alike” - they were obviously effective, given the many testimonials they elicited. Significantly, as physical mediumship has largely given way to mental phenomena (witness the rise of mediums like James Van Praagh who limit themselves to readings [Nickell 1998]), "spirit” paintings have all but disappeared. A few historic examples remain as reminders of an earlier, though not necessarily more credulous, time.

Acknowledgments

I am most grateful to Joyce LaJudice of the Lily Dale Museum, Lily Dale, New York, for her generous assistance in providing information on the Campbell “brothers” (Part I) and the Bangs sisters (Part II).

Thanks are also due several Center for Inquiry staff members for help in various ways, particularly watching numerous experimental attempts to reproduce the Bangs sisters’ effects: Ben Radford, Tom Flynn, and others-including Tim Binga and Ranjit Sandhu, who also provided research assistance.

Notes

1. If it is true, as earlier stated, that the picture seemingly appeared on the “canvas” nearest the sitter, all that would have been needed was for the pair of panels to have been casually reversed as they were taken down from the frame and carried to the sitter.
2. I have wondered whether the Bangses might have produced a picture in “real time,” working on the rearmost panel (reversed for the purpose) while the sitter viewed the progress. Such a scenario (too lengthy to detail here) would present many difficulties, and one would think even a credulous sitter would catch on. But it might still be possible.

References

• Bangs, May. 1910. Letter dated 17 September, quoted in Coates 1911, 294.
• “Bangs Sisters.” N.d. Album of clippings, photos, business card, etc., in Lily Dale Museum.
• Chesterfield Lives. 1986. Chesterfield, Indiana: Camp Chesterfield.
• Coates, James. 1911. Photographing the Invisible. N.p. [USA]: The Advanced Thought Publishing Co., 292-336.
• Fodor, Nandor. 1933. Encyclopedia of Psychic Science. London: Arthurs Press, s.v. “Bangs Sisters,” 27-28.
• Holland, George C. 1909. Quoted in Coates 1911, 325.
• Krebs, Stanley L. 1901. A description of some trick methods used by Miss Bangs, of Chicago. Journal of Society for Psychical Research 10.175 (January): 5-16.
• Moore, W. Usborne. 1910. Quoted in Coates 1911, 298-299.
• Mulholland, John. 1938. Beware Familiar Spirits. Reprinted New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1979.
• Nickell, Joe. 1998. Investigating spirit communications, Skeptical Briefs, September, 5-6.
• Payne, John W. 1905. Quoted in Coates 1911, 295-296.
• “Spirit Portrait” of his dead mother. 1908. The Buffalo Evening Times (Buffalo, N.Y.), January 8.
• Swann, Irene. 1969. The Bangs Sisters and Their Precipitated Spirit Portraits. Chesterfield, Indiana: Camp Chesterfield.
• Thayer Magic Mfg. Co. 1928. Quality Magic Catalog No. 7. Los Angeles. Two pages describing the spirit-painting effect are reproduced in William Doerflinger, The Magic Catalog (New York: E.P. Dutton, 1977), 196-197.
• Thurston, Dr. and Mrs. H.E. 1910. Quoted in Coates 1911, 322-324.
• Woolwich, Madlyn-Ann C. 1996. The Art of Pastel Portraiture. New York: Watson-Guptill.