A Day on Broadway: The Art of being a knife thrower's assistant
by David Adamovich, Joachim Heil and Lady Astrid

Review by Mark C

This really is a unique book. It is also a brave one. Whatever its faults, you would struggle to find anything quite like this combination of autobiography, history and philosophy based around the story of an attempt to revive an old circus art in a small theatre in New York. As for bravery, well that permeates every aspect of the book. For a start, the central story involves a considerable degree of bravery on the part of Astrid Schollenberger, who performed as a knife thrower's target under the name Lady Astrid. But the really brave things about the book itself are the effort to publish deeply personal insights and the decision to do so as a labour of love with minimal resources. That is no small undertaking and not without risk. Although I will point to some flaws in the book I want to make it clear from the start that I respect the authors for what they have striven to do and I have no wish to criticise them for failing in areas where they suffered from lack of financial backing. My aim in writing this review is to give the substantial and considered response I feel is deserved as a result of the philosophical strand they have incorporated. Such a response will not be a hagiography but neither will it be an attempt to find fault for the sake of it. Most of all I hope this will be the first step in an ongoing debate in response to questions the authors seem to have raised.
The book opens with a brief foreword by Stanley Brion, outlining the evolution of knife throwing as an entertainment from the 19th century to the present. Mr Brion seems authoritative but we are told nothing of his background and the basis of his admirable knowledge. At the same time there is a tantalising hint that within his brain there is another fascinating and much more encyclopaedic volume to be written about the history of this particular circus art. Nevertheless his contribution is useful, even vital, in providing a context for the rest of this book. You are given a sense of the traditions from which the art comes and it was good to see how names such as The Gibsons, The Tornados, and Elizabeth and Collins fit into the chronology. More important still is that feats developed by the greats of the past have become benchmarks against which modern performers feel they need to measure themselves. Here, among other things, we are introduced to 'The Wheel of Death' in which the thrower faces the challenge of a moving target as his assistant whirls helplessly on a giant disc. It is this stunt that forms the centrepiece of much of the book's main story.
Finally, Mr Brion offers a distillation of the essence of the "impalement arts", the term by which some knife throwers prefer their act to be described: "Combining an exhibition of skill and co-ordination with the erotic appeal of a beautiful woman submitting to extreme danger, the knife throwing act continues to present an exciting spectacle which can cause that intake of breath and a tingle in the spine of the audience." One of the strengths of this book is the way it includes a series of differing perspectives and it is definitely interesting to read Brion's view in conjunction with the later contribution from Joachim Heil.
The first major chapter of the book comes from The Rev Dr David Adamovich - also known as The Great Throwdini or, to his friends, simply as "Throw". We meet him first in a short introduction written by magician Simon Lovell, the compere of the show where Throwdini and Lady Astrid made their Broadway debut. Lovell's build-up is worthy of the stage professional that he is and ensures we begin with the image of Throwdini as an extraordinary character with a spectacular act. Throwdini himself follows in that vein. His approach to explaining the central story is very much that of a showman. This is a strength and a weakness. He doesn't hang around and so there's no need to wade through pages of detail until you get to the big moments. By the end of the second page he has already created his act with an American assistant, travelled to Germany to meet Dr Heil and the unsuspecting Ms Schollenberger, the latter has been persuaded to make a guest appearance in the act and he has begun throwing knives around her. By the fifth page Heil and Schollenberger have arrived in New York, where she is to be his assistant for his Broadway debut. The problem is that one is left feeling that significant events are either missing or glossed over. I truly believe Throwdini's assertion on his first page that what he tells is the truth, I'm just not so sure it is the whole truth. I accept it might reflect the whole truth as he sees things. The difficulty is there are at least as many ways of seeing things as there are people involved. That is partly compensated for by the chapters from Schollenberger and Heil. Nonetheless, there are hints of things missing. It is not until the autobiographical notes at the end of the book that we get some real description of how David Adamovich came to be transformed into The Great Throwdini. Even then there appear to be gaps. I can see 'The Wheel of Death' was a big ambition for Dr Adamovich but I still don't fully understand why it was important to debut it where he did. Maybe if I was a New Yorker it would be obvious, but I'm not and nor will many other readers be. My biggest difficulty is Adamovich's relationship with his other assistants, where there are occasional hints of tension. This would not be so much of a problem if these girls were totally irrelevant to the story, but there is arguably some linkage. For a start, Adamovich appears to have very quickly decided that Ms Schollenberger had exceptional qualities that made him want her as his assistant for the Broadway show rather than his existing assistant, Niabi Caldwell. He then spends most of a page explaining how he fell out with Caldwell after he returned to New York. In writing about Ms Caldwell he betrays a certain bitterness and he never actually includes her name. She was clearly involved in events but her contribution is virtually written out of the story. The relationship between thrower and target is a big theme in this book but we are only allowed to see parts of it. To be fair to Adamovich he later writes about the unique difficulty of finding and keeping a good partner in this type of act and he does credit some his other assistants. Furthermore, writing about an intense working relationship after it has split up must be similar in difficulty to writing about marriage after a divorce. Maybe it would be unfair to expect the thrower to see the ex-target's point of view.
Adamovich is rather more adept at creating a sense of breakneck pace as he describes how he and Schollenberger rehearsed against the clock for their New York show and the adrenaline-fuelled tension of the performance itself. He does attempt to bare his psyche a little in describing his feelings as he is about to perform 'The Wheel of Death' for the first time on stage: "It's not only a do or die moment for the assistant. It's a do or die moment for the thrower." Although the writing style is suggests the stage spiel of a performer hyping up the danger of his act, one does feel sympathy for the thrower. Those knives are real and he really does risk killing or seriously injuring his assistant if he makes a mistake. And on top of that he is under the gaze of an expectant audience, so backing out of a stunt would be a crushing humiliation. No one can doubt the pressure must be huge. But, of course, we know it all ends in applause because otherwise this book could not be what it is. Dr Adamovich's chapter is a bit like a metaphor for the show. There's a big build-up, some tension and some high points but then it's all over. There is a brief description of the wind-down after the show and a poignant observation of New York. But readers are left to wonder where things went for The Great Throwdini after this landmark show.
The second major chapter is Astrid Schollenberger's telling of the story. This is perhaps the most fascinating because, as Adamovich and others observe, it is the target that ultimately makes the show and because, as with magic, the female performers who have been so vital to the art have been under-represented in the writing of its history. This chapter is also in some ways the best written piece - which is quite a feat given that English is not Ms Schollenberger's first language and she even writes at one point about learning it to help her participate in the show. This is certainly the most engaging section in terms of its narrative, which draws you in to an unfolding story. An important part of that engaging quality comes from the intimacy and honesty of the piece. There is a powerful authenticity to the way she confesses the doubts and difficulties she went through. While Adamovich talks of practical difficulties and of the tension as he goes on stage we are left with the feeling that ultimately he does not really question himself. Schollenberger on the other hand is sometimes quite critical of herself - possibly too critical given that she appears multi-talented. Perhaps this reflects a culturally induced difference between men and women in this type of situation. But that is something not explored here.
The chapter is a little more informative than the previous one in giving us some background on the individuals before we get to the central events. Schollenberger explains that she knew her boyfriend Heil was interested in throwing knives and she wasn't totally surprised to learn that The Great Throwdini was coming to visit them. She also tells us fascinating details of her earlier life that help to explain why she had some interest in circus and why she was prepared to at least consider the proposal that she be a guest in Throwdini's act. But, again, one is left with a feeling that things have been missed out or glossed over. Of course this might be because of lack of space or other practical reasons. Or it might be because Schollenberger quite justifiably decided she wished to impose limits on what she revealed about her personal life. However one is left wondering exactly how the initial conversations went. How did Heil first suggest to his girlfriend that he would like to watch another man hurling knives at her? What was her initial reaction? How did it affect her view of Heil? The questions arise because this was a remarkable request and a pivotal point in the story. Heil seems to have had a pre-conceived plan and this was the moment he brought Schollenberger in to it. One suspects a lot of women would have reacted with shock or horror at the idea; Schollenberger appears not to have done. Yet all we are told is that she felt able to consider the question and give a serious reply.
We are then quickly swept into a lengthy diary of events that saw Schollenberger first perform in a show for friends in Germany and then travel to New York for a full stage performance of Throwdini's show "Maximum Risk". Along the way Schollenberger gives us occasional glimpses of her feelings about the act. But on the whole her observations relate to the practical challenges and difficulties that she faced. Having accepted the men's plan she seems to focus with amazing strength of purpose on carrying it through with professionalism. Often we are told of her concerns that she might not carry off particular details of the act. This is engaging and insightful material but the problem is it makes one wish for more. Given Schollenberger's academic achievements it is a pity she does not venture into areas later tackled by Heil. Most of all I suspect readers will be left wanting to know more of her feelings about the experiences she describes. Perhaps her attention to the practical details is a reflection of a deeply practical and business-like personality. However, having had some correspondence with her, I think she is much deeper and more complex. To be fair, her chapter does offer a few emotional and philosophical observations. She touches on the idea of the knife throwing act as a profound relationship of trust between two people. She also acknowledges elements of eroticism that others have described, although she refutes the idea that the performers are engaged in any real erotic act. Whilst I accept without hesitation her account of the act and what she sees in it I feel she possibly glosses over questions about what images she might be creating in the minds of the audience. For example, when she talks about her costume it is clear there was a deliberate choice for something that presented her as a "sexy" character. But there is no explanation for this other than that Adamovich and Heil liked it. Ms Schollenberger is clearly an intelligent and strong-willed woman and it thus seems reasonable to ask whether she was thinking beyond the opinions of her two friends and what reactions she thought she might provoke among her audience. This is important because this book poses philosophical questions about what the act is about and how it is perceived. While Ms Schollenberger makes a good attempt to sum up the overall themes of the act she leaves aspects like that above where readers may feel significant details are left without a full analysis. She makes some tantalising comparisons between her experience performing with Adamovich and more recent efforts to create an act with Heil as a thrower. She mentions conquering fear creatively and the bond of trust between thrower and target. Ultimately she leaves us with a description that invokes a certain amount of mysticism. I don't want to imply that Ms Schollenberger is not forthcoming. In the circumstances I think she comes across as the author who makes the best effort to truly reveal herself. Quite apart from the fact that she is the one who is pictured throughout the book in costumes that expose a great deal of her admirable physique, it is she who gives us the most personally revealing anecdotes. The trouble is that what she reveals are fascinating glimpses that point to a greater story which remains untold.
The element that raises this book above a mere collection of anecdotes and chronology is the attempt to add philosophical context. The main vehicle for this is an essay by Joachim Heil, which forms the third main section of the book. Dr Heil lists a number of simple explanations for why audiences are gripped by the act but rejects them as insufficient. Instead, he seeks some profound meaning to the knife throwing act and asks what we are really seeing portrayed and what messages it has for the audience. The result is a fascinating sampling from across the worlds of philosophy and the theory of performing arts. We are introduced to the concept of personas and Dr Heil makes an intriguing link between those of the clown and the knife thrower. I was fascinated to learn about the sinister side of the clown, with origins traced back beyond the Harlequin to a mythical figure leading a band of demons, a character who threatens to upturn existing rational order but ultimately has a cathartic effect.
Dr Heil is a particular fan of the work of Immanuel Kant and thus calls upon the third of Kant's three great "critiques", The Critique of Judgement, to help explain audience appreciation of knife throwing. We are introduced to the central idea that in making aesthetic judgements we experience a special freedom - that in doing so we are free from the coercion of cold rationalism. It is also argued that when making judgements of taste we do not so much express something about an object or our opinion of it, rather we express something about our own minds. These are challenging concepts and some readers may be put off by them or at least by the difficulty of the language. But they are also powerful ideas and worth persevering with, for they can also be applied to the book in which they are presented. Dr Heil attempts to link Kant's aesthetic theories to knife throwing by means of substantial references to the work of Fredrich Schiller, who took up some ideas from The Critique of Judgement. The text here is at times even more difficult than that relating to Kant and I would be lying were I to claim to be able to unravel it all. There may, nonetheless, be a few gems of wisdom discernible, such as the observation that sometimes the highest intelligence and the utmost stupidity have something in common. I think the real point of this section is in understanding the distinction between the reality of a performance and what is being portrayed. There seem to be messages about the balance between actual danger and perceived danger in art but I am not sure that Schiller's work is the best way of presenting this to a non-academic audience. It is interesting to know that serious philosophers have touched on such questions but one is left feeling that Schiller might have been labouring his point. However out of all this Heil does distil the very important observation that: "If a knife throwing show is to be presented as an art, it is not a question of being the most dangerous show, but of being the most dramatic one".
Also within the passages on Schiller are references to Aristotle and the concept of catharsis. Here things become a little clearer. We are introduced to the importance of the portrayal of suffering and there is a convincing argument that while suffering is not art, its depiction in the right context is an important artistic device. These themes make more sense when Heil picks them up a few pages later in a discussion about the figure of the hero in mythology and drama. Here he cites Joseph Campbell's 1949 book The Hero With A Thousand Faces, which analyses many different myths and reveals common structures, and Christopher Vogler's The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers from 1999 on the construction of successful shooting scripts for films. Both Campbell and Vogler observe that one of the crucial moments in a classic heroic tale is the "ordeal", the point where all hope seems lost and the hero faces death. Vogler suggests that, having been encouraged to identify with the hero prior to that point, the audience's emotions are heightened because they go through the experience by proxy. In coming through the ordeal the hero is symbolically reborn and there is a feeling of elation and power. Heil also cites the work of his colleague at Mainz University, Dr Stephan Grätzel, who has pointed to heroic quality originating from a willingness to sacrifice as much as from any superior or superhuman abilities. Through these passages Heil makes a powerful case for viewing the knife thrower's target girl as akin to a classical hero.
The concept of the assistant as hero has resonance with a passage in Ms Schollenberger's chapter where she explains that, thanks to the internet, she found herself with something of a fanclub. Men and women wrote admiringly, although with different emphasis. She was flattered when one woman wrote to her comparing her to Emma Peel, as portrayed by Diana Rigg in the TV series The Avengers. Ms Schollenberger confesses that the character, "a nice intelligent woman who nevertheless, however warlike, remains female and elegant", had been a role model for her since she was young. What is not stated is that Mrs Peel was revolutionary in that she was the equal of a male hero. As well as karate kicking villains she was often captured by them and subjected to fiendish ordeals. What's more, rather than scream like an old-fashioned damsel in distress, Mrs Peel would display the cool nerve and witticism of James Bond. Similarly the knife thrower's assistant faces her ordeal with steely nerve and a little flirtatiousness. As luck would have it, nature blessed Ms Schollenberger with looks every bit as stunning as the young Diana Rigg and she also clearly has brains and determination to match. So the comparison seems very apt. Ms Schollenberger, however, has had a tougher life than the wealthy heiress Mrs Peel. A single mother who has brought up two children, who has undertaken academic studies while working to support herself and her family and who then takes up a dangerous performance art for amusement is remarkable indeed - a true candidate for heroic status.
Having dealt with the theme of the hero, Dr Heil also observes a likeness between the knife act and certain ancient initiation rituals, which touch upon connections between life and death. Here, it is argued, the assistant makes us face mortality while showing us we need not be engulfed by it. She "suffers the fear of death, its unmediated presence in life, without actually experiencing death". Is it being suggested that the audience at a knife act undergoes some sort of initiation by proxy? I'm not sure. Maybe it is another way of saying that the assistant's courage should inspire us all to approach life with less fear and more confidence.
I agree with Heil's concluding observation that if circus wants to be an art it has to do more than present pure technical mastery. It has to be more ambitious and must seek to reflect some of the philosophical and dramatic themes discussed. Heil shows us one way knife throwing can do this through his analysis of the act as a portrayal of a hero's ordeal. I am less convinced by his idea of the knife thrower as a sort of anarchic clown-demon come to shock us into catharsis. Even so his overall thesis is thoroughly argued and cannot be ignored. Heil himself admits from the start that he is only attempting to begin a debate rather than present a complete and comprehensive explanation. In that I think he succeeds.
Before ending this review I want to touch on things that I think are missing from the book. I have already touched on the absence of a proper account of how Throwdini and Niabi Caldwell came to go to Germany in the first place and of the shows they performed there. This is mentioned briefly by Dr Adamovich and Ms Schollenberger but Adamovich dismisses this in a paragraph. More importantly, we deserve some deeper explanation of Dr Heil's role. Although he writes in depth about his views on the philosophy of knife throwing there is no mention of how his personal interest developed. This seems particularly relevant given that we are told he engineered the meeting of Dr Adamovich and Ms Schollenberger and encouraged her recruitment into the act. We are entitled to ask what he envisaged, why he wanted this and to what extent the story unfolded as he planned. Ms Schollenberger tells us a little of her early life and how that influenced her interests and her reaction to the suggestions of Heil and Adamovich. But Heil tells us nothing about himself. All we can do is turn to his analysis of Kant and his assertion that aesthetic judgements don't tell us about their subject matter so much as about the mentality of those making the judgement. Heil is an academic who appears to enjoy the idea of his girlfriend acting as a target girl for Throwdini and, latterly, for himself. He seems to invite us to deduce whatever we please from that. There is also much more to be written about Dr Adamovich. He contributes an autobiographical chapter towards the end of the book, which is a fascinating read. Here we learn about his various careers as an exercise physiologist, pool hall owner and, latterly, as an ordained minister and marriage officiant. Overall it provides some interesting background and contributes to an understanding of his earlier chapter. However it leaves almost as many questions as it answers. It would be unfair to criticise this too harshly because the overall focus of the book is the clearly advertised as being his Broadway performance with Ms Schollenberger. Nevertheless, I mentioned earlier, I was left feeling there are parts of his story that remain out of view, in particular his record of working relationships with different assistants. In these situations it is often only through external observers that we get a better picture. Indeed it would be interesting to hear an account of the events in question from Adamovich's wife. The two clearly have a long and solid marriage and she seems to have been remarkably supportive of his unusual sideline.
Ultimately I accept that practical factors limited what the authors could put into this book and I have to judge it with that in mind. On that basis I commend them highly for their efforts. The one area where I was really disappointed was photographs, which was an aspect that had been mentioned as a selling point prior to publication. There were certainly plenty of pictures but a considerable number of them suffered from clearly visible technical faults, such as pixellation and poor colour balance, which suggest there were limitations in the source material or the process through which it was prepared for publication. Also, I had seen most of the images before in higher quality versions on the internet. If this was a book from a major publisher I'd have to make a real fuss about the picture quality issues. However, as I said before, I feel I need to make certain allowances and so I will say no more. A quick browse of a good bookshop will show you there is a vast literature about performing arts but the vast majority of it is devoted to theatre, film and television. So any book on circus skills is a rarity. But I would challenge anyone to find a book that includes all of the elements that this one does.
(August 2005)

Home