Tipu’s Tiger (c. 1790)

Between 1767 and 1799 there was a series of wars fought between the British East India Company and the Kingdom of Mysore, all part of the ongoing struggle of the British to consolidate dominion in the Indian subcontinent and lay the ground for what would become the British Empire. The Fourth, and last, Anglo-Mysore War culminated in 1799 with the decisive defeat and death of Tipu Sultan, the ruler of the Mysoreans, at the siege of his capital, Seringapatam.

During the subsequent plunder of Tipu’s palace, East India Company troops came across an unusual and intriguing mechanical toy in a room given over to musical instruments. It was a carved and painted wooden tiger savaging a near life-size European man. Concealed inside the tiger’s body, behind a hinged flap, was an organ which could be operated by the turning of a handle next to it. This simultaneously made the man’s arm lift up and down and produced noises intended to imitate his dying moans and the growls of the tiger. A piece more emblematic of the Sultan’s antipathy towards the British would be hard to find!

The Governors of the East India Company sent the interesting object back to London, where, after a few years in storage, it was displayed in the reading-room of the East India Company Museum and Library at East India House in Leadenhall Street. It proved to be a very popular exhibit and the public could not only view Tipu’s Tiger, but crank its handle and operate its machinery at will. This they did on a regular basis, apparently, to the deep annoyance of students trying to study there. No surprise then, that at some point the handle disappeared, and the periodical The Athenaeum reported that:

“Luckily, a kind fate has deprived him of his handle… and we do sincerely hope he will remain so, to be seen and admired but to be heard no more”

In 1880, the Victoria and Albert Museum acquired the piece, and it remains there to this day (the handle has of course been replaced, though not for the public to crank). Tipu was big into his tigers: he had jewelled, golden tiger heads as finials on his throne, tiger stripes stamped onto his coinage, and tigers incorporated into the Mysorean swords, guns, and mortars. However, this wonderfully painted piece is certainly the most unusual! Do call into the V&A if you get the opportunity.

 
Tipu’s Tiger

The Shower Scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960)

In November 1957, police in Plainfield, Wisconsin, investigating the disappearance of store owner Bernice Worden, arrested one Edward Gein. Upon searching his house, they found Bernice’s decapitated body hanging upside down by her legs and “dressed out like a deer”. In addition, they found a catalogue of grisly trophies and keepsakes made from human skin and bones. Gein confessed to murdering two women and, even more shockingly, exhuming up to nine corpses of recently-buried middle-aged women from local graveyards. The Butcher of Plainfield, as he became known, would provide inspiration for the future makers of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Silence of the Lambs, and – thanks to the 1959 Robert Bloch novel of the same name – Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho.

Besides making people forever wary of motel-room showers, Hitchcock’s Psycho continues to have an incalculable influence on popular culture. It was a clear marker in the history of cinema, particularly the psychological thriller, of which Hitchcock was a master. It may not have been the first “slasher movie” (that credit has been given to British movie Peeping Tom, released just three months prior to Psycho, or even 1932’s Thirteen Women) but it was certainly the most dramatic and impactful in the public consciousness.

It is of course the story of Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), the obsessional, split-personality psychopath of the title, and Marion Crane (Janet Leigh), the single female finding herself in very much the wrong place at the wrong time, namely Bates Motel. The notorious shower scene, in which Marion is murdered in a frenzied knife attack, is the pivotal scene and one of the most studied montages of film editing ever made. It was shot over one week in December 1959. The finished scene runs for three minutes, includes seventy seven different camera angles, mainly extreme close-ups and fifty cuts.

For Leigh’s blood, which swirled down the shower drain, Hitchcock used Bosco chocolate syrup. To create the sound effect of the knife stabbing flesh, he sent prop man Bob Bone out to fetch a variety of melons. The director then closed his eyes as Bone took turns stabbing watermelons, casabas, cantaloupes and honeydews (he chose casaba). The soundtrack of screeching string instruments was an original and highly effective piece by composer Bernard Herrmann.

Paramount had considered the movie a highly risky project, so Hitchcock deferred his salary in exchange for 60 percent of the net profit. The film cost just $800,000 to make, grossed $40 million and Hitchcock pocketed some $15 million…so not a bad decision!

Alfred Hitchcock