Wednesday, August 2, 2017

The Spirit Paintings of Marion Gruzeski

(enlarge)
With this series of Detroit Free Press articles by writer Elden Small published in consecutive weekes in May of 1923 we learn of and are shown examples of the "spirit paintings" of young Detroit artist Marion Gruzeski but next to nothing about him or his life as a spiritual medium. He is briefly mentioned in the second article as Small described his paintings as grewsome [sic] and weird and states that Gruzeski was presumed to be under the trance of a dead artist.

The lack of information is hardly a setback as Small gives leads to various other Spiritualists in the movement which was rapidly gaining traction. A fact that was evidenced by the dozen or so churches in Detroit following the Spiritualist philosophy. Some of the names of interest included in the expose are Dr. Burrows of the Occult Temple, Rev. Thomas Grimshaw, Dr. J. H. Hyslop, King Benjamin and Mother Elinor (AKA Ann Odelia Diss Debar. All of whom I've never heard of, ignorant as I am in the field of spirituality.

Also featured are several photos of both Maude Roose and her spirit paintings. Roose, previously featured on this blog, was a novice artist who painted phenomenal replicas of famous paintings without any formal training and very little experience practicing her art. She, like Gruzeski, claimed to be inspired by the spirit of dead artists.

(enlarge)
(enlarge)

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Lupus Homo: The Man-Wolf of Windsor

Detroit Free Press, April 8, 1871
To state the fact that Windsor, Canada is not a part of Detroit is to discount the lyrical prowess of Steve Perry and even the Nain Rouge would be inclined to hex your dismissal of our sister city to the south as anything except a geographical equal. Likewise, location and mutual respect were not in a favorable orbit for the Man-Wolf of Windsor. The lunatic with wild eyes and a physical appearance to match his temperament was more-or-less a kept beast.

The Windsor of 1871 was still la Petite Côte (the little coast) in both population and land mass in contrast to Detroit's burgeoning transformation into a major city. A fire in October of that same year kept the town of less than 5,000 a stopping point at the fringe of the wilderness frontier. So the fact that the Man-Wolf was living in the woods would be of no particular concern to the sociologist or psychologist. The fact that the scraggly-bearded, long-haired man with severe physical deformities lived in a small shed and was bound with chains caused alarm with some of the citizenry and especially the Detroit Free Press, though their motives might be questioned in lieu of the sensational article above.

It was said that his screams and howls often pierced through the relative silence of the night. During the day he was left to the mercy of probing eyes and the cruelty of neighbors who were allowed to taunt and prod the pitiful creature. His public display in both the town centers of Windsor and Detroit were no less injurious and there was even talk of making the Man-Wolf the main attraction in a traveling freak show.

Several theories abounded at the time that he was an escaped lunatic. One story claimed he was a man named Roscommon who had been exchanged between family members in Montreal and Sarnia. Having been kept in a chamber room his violent reaction to his bondage forced the family to erect a small building on the property where the man was often chained.

The farmers of the area, who were subjected to his sorrowful groans, either helped in his escape or aided in harboring the man after his own jailbreak. Either way he was said to have been found near a swamp eating roots and tree bark where he put up a ferocious battle against both man and dog in ensuring his escape. Facts which don't gibe with the newspaper reports of his extreme physical deformities. Obviously, the wilderness injects its own truth into reality and men's minds follow suit.

Similarly, a story that he was an escaped lunatic from the Malden Asylum clashed with facts of that case where an equally healthy and robust man forcibly made his way to freedom.

Detroit Free Press, March 12, 1871
Whomever he may have been he was the captive of a man named Edward Clark. Not much is to be ascertained about Mr. Clark through newspapers though he was known to have been incarcerated in the House of Corrections in Detroit for a brawl that he was part of in March of that same year. He was subsequently released a few days later.

Detroit Free Press, April 11, 1871
Clark denied the charges and welcomed an investigation into the matter. The nameless Lupus Homo, minus a voice in the matter, was likely lost to history and redemption.

Detroit Free Press, April 14, 1871
Not that his suffering ended there because nary a week after the initial horrifying reports of his bedraggled existence emerged he was attacked by several drunken men. The sots broke into his quarters on Michigan Avenue, roughed him up, unchained his shackles and were in the process of freeing him into the streets when the police intervened to disperse the ne'er-do-wells and their captive audience.