Mel Gordon on The Grand Guiginol: Theatre of Fear and Terror: Episode 8 of The Midnight Archive!

Episode eight of The Midnight Archive--the web-based documentary series centered around Observatory--has just been uploaded and can be viewed above. This episode is one I am personally very excited about; it is based on the work of my all-time favorite rogue-scholar Mel Gordon, specifically on his research into The Grand Guignol as explored in his classic Grand Guiginol: Theatre of Fear and Terror. It was shot in The Morbid Anatomy Library the night of his recent Observatory lecture on the same topic and features dozens of amazing images and even film footage (!!!) of a circa 1960s Grand Guignol performance, as well as a fascinating conversation with Mel Gordon. Check it out (highly recommended!) by hitting play above, or by clicking here.

Film maker Ronni Thomas--the creator of The Midnight Archive--has this to say about The Grand Guignol:

I have to admit - before i began this whole thing - i had no idea what the Grand Guignol theater was... I was raised on a magnificent diet of blood and gore as a kid. (For Christ's sake - i gave up my career as an adjunct professor to work for less than minimum wage at Troma films...) But - as always - the unsung bastard of this artform was a sleazy theatre in paris where eyes were gouged out - faces were burnt off - and torturous agony was displayed before some of the wealthiest and most affluent aristocrats while visiting the fabulous city of blights... (lights). In this episode - Mel Gordon - the man who LITERALLY wrote the book on the Grand Guignol gives us a brief explanation of what it was and what it meant to society, the world and all those other things i could care less about... I knew nothing about the theater before i started this as i've stated - and i've learned about 3 minutes more than that as i hope you will... enjoy... and please consider chopping up your neighbor as a fun tribute.

For more on the series, to see former episodes, or to sign up for the mailing list so as to be alerted to future uploads, visit The Midnight Archive website by clicking here. You can also "like" it on Facebook--and thus be alerted--by clicking here.

Grand Guignol Spectacular Reprise with Macabre Muppets

Thanks so very very much to all you who came out to either a) perform in, or b) attend last night's amazing Grand Guignol Spectacular. It was very truly the best birthday ever, and I am still reeling from how many amazing performances I saw, and how many delicious drinks I partook of. Next year, someone simply must do a cover of this under-known Muppet Show segment from 1978, written by Shel Silverstein (!!!) and sung by Marisa Berenson, my favorite when I was a little girl, included above for your convenience.

Thanks again, and see you next time!

Tonight!! The Grand Guignol Spectacular: An Evening of Victorian Variety, Macabre Merriment, and Horror Live on Stage!

Tonight! At the Coney Island Museum! Very much hope to see you there!

Grand Guignol Variety Show at The Coney Island Museum
Featuring classic Grand Guignol performances, film, toy theatre, song, dance, film and more, followed by a DJed after-party
Date: Saturday, December 10th
Time: 8:00 (doors at 7)
Admission: $25 (tickets available here)
Location: The Coney Island Museum, 1208 Surf Avenue, Brooklyn
Presented by Morbid Anatomy, Atlas Obscura and The Coney Island Museum and curated by Joanna Ebenstein & John Del Gaudio

From turn-of-the-century Paris through the 1960s, the Theatre of the Grand Guignol gleefully celebrated horror, sex, and fear with infamous productions featuring innocent victims, mangled beauty, insanity, mutilation, humour, sex, and monstrous depravity in a heady mix that attracted throngs of thrill-seekers from all echelons of society, making it the progenitor of today’s blood-spilling, eye-gouging, and limb-hacking “splatter” films.

Join us on December 10th at the Coney Island Museum for a one-night-only ode to The Grand Guignol and its legacy. Our evening of variety theatre was developed in conversation with Mel Gordon, author of Grand Guiginol: Theatre of Fear and Terror; Participants will include Doll Parts, Meg Moseley, GF Newland, Melissa Roth, Shannon Taggart, Alison Termine, Ronni Thomas, and Kathleen Kennedy Tobin and the role of Master or Ceremonies filled by Lord Whimsy. Projects include stagings of two classic Grand Guignol plays, a toy theater version of Bryusov’s “The Sisters,” a harmonious and creepy rendition of “Dry Bones,” and more, all followed by an after-party with music and Hendrick’s Gin cocktails courtesy of Friese Undine.

More here.

One Night Only! An Evening of Victorian Variety, Macabre Merriment, and Horror Live on Stage! The Grand Guignol Spectacular Tickets Now Available!

Tickets for my Grand Guignol Birthday Spectacular on December 10th at The Coney Island Museum are now available for purchase here. And, just to whet your whistle, I post above a sketch of the specially commissioned set by NYU’s Chris Muller which will frame this unforgettable evening of "Victorian Variety, Macabre Merriment, and Horror Live on Stage" (click on image to see larger, more detailed version.) If you are interested in attending, we urge you to to purchase tickets soon, as they are sure to sell out!

Full info for the event follows. Hope very much to see you there!

Grand Guignol Variety Show at The Coney Island Museum
Featuring classic Grand Guignol performances, film, toy theatre, song, dance, film and more, followed by a DJed after-party
Date: Saturday, December 10th
Time: 8:00 (doors at 7)
Admission: $25 (tickets available here)
Location: The Coney Island Museum, 1208 Surf Avenue, Brooklyn
Presented by Morbid Anatomy, Atlas Obscura and The Coney Island Museum and curated by Joanna Ebenstein & John Del Gaudio

From turn-of-the-century Paris through the 1960s, the Theatre of the Grand Guignol gleefully celebrated horror, sex, and fear with infamous productions featuring innocent victims, mangled beauty, insanity, mutilation, humour, sex, and monstrous depravity in a heady mix that attracted throngs of thrill-seekers from all echelons of society, making it the progenitor of today’s blood-spilling, eye-gouging, and limb-hacking “splatter” films.

Join us on December 10th at the Coney Island Museum for a one-night-only ode to The Grand Guignol and its legacy. Our evening of variety theatre was developed in conversation with Mel Gordon, author of Grand Guiginol: Theatre of Fear and Terror; Participants will include Doll Parts, Meg Moseley, Robert Munn, GF Newland, Melissa Roth, Shannon Taggart, Alison Termine, Ronni Thomas, and Kathleen Kennedy Tobin with a newly commissioned set by NYU’s Chris Muller (seen above) and the role of Master or Ceremonies filled by Lord Whimsy. Projects include stagings of two classic Grand Guignol plays, a toy theater version of Bryusov’s “The Sisters,” a harmonious and creepy rendition of “Dry Bones,” and more, all followed by an after-party with music and Hendrick’s Gin cocktails courtesy of Friese Undine.

Tickets available here.

19th Century Horror Theatre! An Ode to Absinthe and her Kin! COMPLEMENTARY ABSINTHE!!! Decadent Paris Weekend at Observatory, November 11-12

I am super excited to announce the newly announced Decadent Paris Weekend at Observatory. Night one will feature author and scholar Mel Gordon, one of the best speakers we have ever had at Observatory, presenting a heavily-illustrated and highly-engaging lecture on the largely forgotten history of The Parisian Grand Guignol Theatre (1897-1962). Night two will feature Observatory favorite--and Midnight Archive director--Ronni Thomas for an alcohol-drenched and image-heavy ode to absinthe and her kin. Both events will be supplied with free absinthe (!!!) compliments of La Fée Absinthe, the first traditional absinthe distilled in France since the 1915 ban and is the only absinthe endorsed by the Musée de l'Absinthe, Auvers-sur-Oise.

These are both going to be events not to miss. Hope very much to see you there!

The Grand Guignol: Parisian Theatre of Fear and Terror 1897-1962
Illustrated lecture/booksigning with author and scholar Mel Gordon
Date: Friday, November 11th
Time: 8:00 PM
Admission: $8
Presented by Morbid Anatomy
***Complimentary absinthe provided by our sponsor La Fée Absinthe, the first traditional absinthe distilled in France since the 1915 ban and is the only absinthe endorsed by the Musée de l'Absinthe, Auvers-sur-Oise
***Signed copies of Gordon's long out-of-print Grand Guiginol will be available for sale at $30 (copies generally go for $60-150)

Hidden among the decadence and sleaze of Pigalle with its roughnecks and whores, in the shadows of a quiet, cobbled alleyway, stands a little theatre... --"Grand Guignol: The French Theatre or Horror," Hand and Wilson

From its beginnings in turn-of-the-century Paris and through its decline in the 1960s, the Theatre of the Grand Guignol--literally "grand puppet show"--gleefully celebrated horror, sex, and fear. Its infamous productions featured innocent victims, mangled beauty, insanity, mutilation, humour, sex, and monstrous depravity in a heady mix that attracted throngs of thrill-seekers from all echelons of society. By dissecting primal taboos in an unprecedentedly graphic manner, the Grand Guignol became the progenitor of all the blood-spilling, eye-gouging, and limb-hacking "splatter" movies of today.

Tonight, join Professor Mel Gordon--author of Grand Guiginol: Theatre of Fear and Terror--to learn about the largely forgotten history of the Le Théâtre du Grand-Guignol in this heavily-illustrated and highly engaging lecture.

Mel Gordon is the author of Grand Guiginol: Theatre of Fear and Terror, Voluptious Panic: The Erotic World of Weimar Berlin, and many other books. Voluptuous Panic was the first in-depth and illustrated book on the topic of erotic Weimar; The lavish tome was praised by academics and inspired the establishment of eight neo-Weimar nightclubs as well as the Dresden Dolls and a Marilyn Manson album. Now, Mel Gordon is completing a companion volume for Feral House Press, entitled Horizontal Collaboration: The Erotic World of Paris, 1920-1946. He also teaches directing, acting, and history of theater at University of California at Berkeley.

Absinthe and Other Liquors of Fin de Siècle Paris: Lecture and Tasting
Illustrated lecture and liquor tasting with film maker Ronni Thomas
Date: Saturday, November 12th
Time: 8:00 PM
Admission: $10
Presented by Morbid Anatomy
***Complimentary absinthe provided by our sponsor La Fée Absinthe, the first traditional absinthe distilled in France since the 1915 ban and is the only absinthe endorsed by the Musée de l'Absinthe, Auvers-sur-Oise

On Saturday November 12th, join Ronni Thomas and Observatory for an exploration of the exotic and often diabolic liquids of France's antiquity featuring absinthe, a liquor known in fin de siècle Paris as "the green fairy" for its bewitching allure and poetically transporting nature. Among history's most infamous and romanticized liquors, absinthe became a symbol of decadence and was drink of choice of such bohemian luminaries as Oscar Wilde, Charles Baudelaire, Vincent van Gogh, Alfred Jarry, Édouard Manet, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, and Pablo Picasso. By 1915, it was widely banned after having been publicly tied to sensational stories of madness, murder and degeneracy; recently re-legalized, it has developed a passionate contemporary fan base.

Tonight, absinthe devotee Ronni Thomas will deliver an illustrated lecture on the history of absinthe and other great elixirs of fin de siècle Paris--such as green chartreuse, armagnac, and ricard--complete with artwork and video excerpts; he will also screen his own contribution to the absinthe mythos: a promotional video he produced for contemporary absinthe maker Le Tourment Vert. Liquor samples for tasting will also be available throughout the evening, including complimentary absinthe from our sponsor La Fée. There will also a Francophile music-filled after party. It will be a night straight out of Brassaï's Paris right in the heart of Brooklyn.

Ronni Thomas filmmaker and creator of The Midnight Archive web series is an avid drinker who appreciates both the history of antique spirits and the effects they have on his self esteem. Incidentally, his favorite absinthe is tonight's sponsor La Fée.

Image: "La Muse Verte" (The Green Muse), Albert Maignan, 1895

To be alerted to future events, "like" Morbid Anatomy on Facebook by clicking here or sign up for the Observatory mailer by clicking here. More on all events here. You can find out more about these events by clicking here.

Morbid Magicians, Demented Doctors, and Sinister Swamis: The Golden Age of the American Spook Show, Observatory, Monday, May 17

This Monday, Morbid Anatomy presents at Observatory "Morbid Magicians, Demented Doctors, and Sinister Swamis: The Golden Age of the American Spook Show," an illustrated lecture by Shane Morton of the Atlanta Silver Scream Spook Show. As an added bonus, DJ Davin Kuntze has promised to play his beloved Victrola until the night ends or until he runs out of needles, whichever comes first. So as you can see, this is a night not-to-be-missed. Full details follow; hope to see you there!

Morbid Magicians, Demented Doctors, and Sinister Swamis: The Golden Age of the American Spook Show
An Illustrated lecture by Shane Morton of Atlanta’s Silver Scream Spook Show
Date: Monday, May 17
Time: 8:00 PM
Admission: $5

There was a time when morbid magicians, demented doctors, and sinister swamis ran wild over this country! Audiences packed in to witness live midnight performances of ghosts being conjured above their heads, raging gorillas grabbing women from their seats, and Frankenstein’s Monster stomping loose through darkened movie palaces! The 1930’s-50’s was the golden era of a now virtually lost performance art form. But what resonated with people then, remains powerful to us today. Find out all about the fascinating world of the great American spook show at tonight’s lecture, which will give your goose pimples goose pimples, and scare the yell out of you!

Shane Morton is an artist, performer and musician from Atlanta, Georgia. He runs the Silver Scream Spook Show, the only spook show to exist in over a generation. You can find out more about Morton and his work at http://wwww.silverscreamspookshow.com and http://www.myspace.com/silverscreamspookshow.

You can find out more about this presentation here. You can get directions to Observatory--which is next door to the Morbid Anatomy Library (more on that here)--by clicking here. You can find out more about Observatory here, join our mailing list by clicking here, and join us on Facebook by clicking here. Click on image to see larger version.

"Cabaret du Néant" (Tavern of the Dead) Revisited, Paris, 1899

I just stumbled across a new and extensive reference to the Cabaret du Néant ("Tavern of the Dead")--the fully immersive, death-themed nightclub which graced Paris during the fin de siècle. The Cabaret (which careful readers might remember from this recent Morbid Anatomy post) was a popular, macabre, and spectacular attraction which re-translated the phantasmagoria of the 18th Century into decadent nightclub for the turn-of-the-nineteenth-century Parisian sophisticate.

The reference, which I came across on the Voyages Extraordinaires blog, is sourced from the 1899 publication Bohemian Paris of To-day, by William Chambers Morrow, and features a very detailed eyewitness account of a visit to the Cabaret. This is probably the closest we 21st century folk will ever get to a virtual visit (unless some inspired film-maker or event-planner is reading this right now?) so I have posted the excerpt here in its entirety:

As we neared the Place we saw on the opposite side of the street two flickering iron lanterns that threw a ghastly green light down upon the barred dead-black shutters of the building, and caught the faces of the passers-by with sickly rays that took out all the life and transformed them into the semblance of corpses. Across the top of the closed black entrance were large white letters, reading simply:

C A F E D U N É A N T

The entrance was heavily draped with black cerements, having white trimmings, such as hang before the houses of the dead in Paris. Here patrolled a solitary croque-mort, or hired pall-bearer, his black cape drawn closely about him, the green light reflected by his glazed top-hat. A more dismal and forbidding place it would be difficult to imagine. Mr. Thompkins paled a little when he discovered that this was our destination, this grisly caricature of eternal nothingness, and hesitated at the threshold. Without a word Bishop firmly took his arm and entered. The lonely croque-mort drew apart the heavy curtain and admitted us into a black hole that proved later to be a room. The chamber was dimly lighted with wax tapers, and a large chandelier intricately devised of human skulls and arms, with funeral candles held in their fleshless fingers, gave its small quota of light.

Large, heavy, wooden coffins, resting on biers, were ranged about the room in an order suggesting the recent happening of a frightful catastrophe. The walls were decorated with skulls and bones, skeletons in grotesque attitudes, battle-pictures, and guillotines in action. Death, carnage, assassination were the dominant note, set in black hangings and illuminated with mottoes on death. A half-dozen voices droned this in a low monotone: "Enter, mortals of this sinful world, enter into the mists and shadows of eternity. Select your biers, to the right, to the left; fit yourselves comfortably to them, and repose in the solemnity and tranquility of death; and may God have mercy on your souls!"

A number of persons who had preceded us had already pre-empted their coffins, and were sitting beside them awaiting developments and enjoying their consommations, using the coffins for their real purpose, tables for holding drinking-glasses. Alongside the glasses were slender tapers by which the visitors might see one another.

There seemed to be no mechanical imperfection in the illusion of a charnel-house; we imagined that even chemistry had contributed its resources, for there seemed distinctly to be the odor appropriate to such a place. We found a vacant coffin in the vault, seated ourselves at it on rush-bottomed stools, and awaited further developments.

Another croque-mort a garcon he was came up through the gloom to take our orders. He was dressed completely in the professional garb of a hearse-follower, including claw-hammer coat, full-dress front, glazed tile, and oval silver badge. He droned, "Bon soir, Macchabees! [This word (also Maccabe, argot Macabit) is given in Paris by sailors to cadavers found floating in the river] Buvez les crachats d'asthmatiques, voila des sueurs froides d'agonisants. Prenez done des certificats de deces, seulement vingt sous. C'est pas cher et c'est artistique !"

Bishop said that he would be pleased with a lowly bock. Mr. Thompkins chose cherries a l'eau-de-vie, and I, une menthe.

"One microbe of Asiatic cholera from the last corpse, one leg of a lively cancer, and one sample of our consumption germ!" moaned the creature toward a black hole at the farther end of the room. Some women among the visitors tittered, others shuddered, and Mr. Thompkins broke out in a cold sweat on his brow, while a curious accompaniment of anger shone in his eyes. Our sleepy pallbearer soon loomed through the darkness with our deadly microbes, and waked the echoes in the hollow casket upon which he set the glasses with a thump.

"Drink, Macchabees!" he wailed: "drink these noxious potions, which contain thvilest and deadliest poisons!"

"The villain!" gasped Mr. Thompkins; "it is horrible, disgusting, filthy!"

The tapers flickered feebly on the coffins, and the white skulls grinned at him mockingly from their sable background. Bishop exhausted all his tactics in trying to induce Mr. Thompkins to taste his brandied cherries, but that gentleman positively refused, he seemed unable to banish the idea that they were laden with disease germs.

After we had been seated here for some time, getting no consolation from the utter absence of spirit and levity among the other guests, and enjoying only the dismay and trepidation of new and strange arrivals, a rather good-looking young fellow, dressed in a black clerical coat, came through a dark door and began to address the assembled patrons. His voice was smooth, his manner solemn and impressive, as he delivered a well-worded discourse on death. He spoke of it as the gate through which we must all make our exit from this world, of the gloom, the loneliness, the utter sense of helplessness and desolation.

As he warmed to his subject he enlarged upon the follies that hasten the advent of death, and spoke of the relentless certainty and the incredible variety of ways in which the reaper claims his victims. Then he passed on to the terrors of actual dissolution, the tortures of the body, the rending of the soul, the unimaginable agonies that sensibilities rendered acutely susceptible at this extremity are called upon to endure. It required good nerves to listen to that, for the man was perfect in his role. From matters of individual interest in death he passed to death in its larger aspects. He pointed to a large and striking battle scene, in which the combatants had come to hand-to-hand fighting, and were butchering one another in a mad lust for blood. Suddenly the picture began to glow, the light bringing out its ghastly details with hideous distinctness.

Then as suddenly it faded away, and where fighting men had been there were skeletons writhing and struggling in a deadly embrace. A similar effect was produced with a painting giving a wonderfully realistic representation of an execution by the guillotine. The bleeding trunk of the victim lying upon the flap-board dissolved, the flesh slowly disappearing, leaving only the white bones. Another picture, representing a brilliant dance-hall filled with happy revellers, slowly merged into a grotesque dance of skeletons; and thus it was with the other pictures about the room.

All this being done, the master of ceremonies, in lugubrious tones, invited us to enter the chambre de la mort. All the visitors rose, and, bearing each a taper, passed in single file into a narrow, dark passage faintly illuminated with sickly green lights, the young man in clerical garb acting as pilot. The cross effects of green and yellow lights on the faces of the groping procession were more startling than picturesque. The way was lined with bones, skulls, and fragments of human bodies.

"O Macchabees, nous sommes devant la porte de la chambre de la mort!" wailed an unearthly voice from the farther end of the passage as we advanced. Then before us appeared a solitary figure standing beneath a green lamp. The figure was completely shrouded in black, only the eyes being visible, and they shone through holes in the pointed cowl. From the folds of the gown it brought forth a massive iron key attached to a chain, and, approaching a door seemingly made of iron and heavily studded with spikes and crossed with bars, inserted and turned the key; the bolts moved with a harsh, grating noise, and the door of the chamber of death swung slowly open.

"O Macchabees, enter into eternity, whence none ever return!" cried the new, strange voice.

The walls of the room were a dead and unrelieved black. At one side two tall candles were burning, but their feeble light was insufficient even to disclose the presence of the black walls of the chamber or indicate that anything but unending blackness extended heavenward. There was not a thing to catch and reflect a single ray of the light and thus become visible in the blackness.

Between the two candles was an upright opening in the wall; it was of the shape of a coffin. We were seated upon rows of small black caskets resting on the floor in front of the candles. There was hardly a whisper among the visitors. The black-hooded figure passed silently out of view and vanished in the darkness.

Presently a pale, greenish-white illumination began to light up the coffin-shaped hole in the wall, clearly marking its outline against the black. Within this space there stood a coffin upright, in which a pretty young woman, robed in a white shroud, fitted snugly. Soon it was evident that she was very much alive, for she smiled and looked at us saucily. But that was not for long. From the depths came a dismal wail: "O Macchabee, beautiful, breathing mortal, pulsating with the warmth and richness of life, thou art now in the grasp of death! Compose thy soul for the end!"

Her face slowly became white and rigid; her eyes sank; her lips tightened across her teeth; her cheeks took on the hollowness of death, she was dead. But it did not end with that. From white the face slowly grew livid... then purplish black... The eyes visibly shrank into their greenish-yellow sockets... Slowly the hair fell away... The nose melted away into a purple putrid spot. The whole face became a semi-liquid mass of corruption. Presently all this had disappeared, and a gleaming skull shone where so recently had been the handsome face of a woman; naked teeth grinned inanely and savagely where rosy lips had so recently smiled. Even the shroud had gradually disappeared, and an entire skeleton stood revealed in the coffin. The wail again rang through the silent vault: "Ah, ah, Macchabee! Thou hast reached the last stage of dissolution, so dreadful to mortals. The work that follows death is complete. But despair not, for death is not the end of all. The power is given to those who merit it, not only to return to life, but to return in any form and station preferred to the old. So return if thou deservedst and desirest."

With a slowness equal to that of the dissolution, the bones became covered with flesh and cerements, and all the ghastly steps were reproduced reversed. Gradually the sparkle of the eyes began to shine through the gloom; but when the reformation was completed, behold! there was no longer the handsome and smiling young woman, but the sleek, rotund body, ruddy cheeks, and self-conscious look of a banker. It was not until this touch of comedy relieved the strain that the rigidity with which Mr. Thompkins had sat between us began to relax, and a smile played over his face, a bewildered, but none the less a pleasant, smile. The prosperous banker stepped forth, sleek and tangible, and haughtily strode away before our eyes, passing through the audience into the darkness. Again was the coffin-shaped hole in the wall dark and empty.

He of the black gown and pointed hood now emerged through an invisible door, and asked if there was any one in the audience who desired to pass through the experience that they had just witnessed. This created a suppressed commotion; each peered into the face of his neighbor to find one with courage sufficient for the ordeal. Bishop suggested to Mr. Thompkins in a whisper that he submit himself, but that gentleman very peremptorily declined. Then, after a pause, Bishop stepped forth and announced that he was prepared to die. He was asked solemnly by the doleful person if he was ready to accept all the consequences of his decision. He replied that he was. Then he disappeared through the black wall, and presently appeared in the greenish-white light of the open coffin. There he composed himself as he imagined a corpse ought, crossed his hands upon his breast, suffered the white shroud to be drawn about him, and awaited results, after he had made a rueful grimace that threw the first gleam of suppressed merriment through the oppressed audience. He passed through all the ghastly stages that the former occupant of the coffin had experienced, and returned in proper person to life and to his seat beside Mr. Thompkins, the audience applauding softly.

A mysterious figure in black waylaid the crowd as it filed out. He held an inverted skull, into which we were expected to drop sous through the natural opening there, and it was with the feeling of relief from a heavy weight that we departed and turned our backs on the green lights at the entrance...

You can visit the original post on Voyages Extraordinaires by clicking here; click here to peruse the entire online version of Morrow's 1899 Bohemian Paris of To-day on Archive.org.

Images sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Cabaret du Néant (Tavern of the Dead) c.1890

Came across a reference to the fascinating (and kind of unbelievable) Cabaret du Néant in the book Wonder Shows: Performing Science, Magic, And Religion In America.The quote reads:

In the 1890s, the Cabaret du Néant (of Tavern of the Dead) first opened its production in Paris and later in New York City. After entering the Cabaret, spectators followed a "monk" down a blackened hall to a café with candles on coffin-shaped tables where they could order refreshments from waiters in funeral garb. A lectured called their attention to paintings of figures that dissolved into paintings of skeletons. While bells tolled and a funeral march played, the monk led the audience to a second chamber; here, a volunteer was asked to step up on a stage and enter a standing casket. After the volunteer was wrapped in a white shroud the spectators gasped at an apparent "X-ray" effect--actually a simpler optical effect--as the man dissolved into a skeleton and then once again returned to plain sight as the skeleton disappeared. In the last chamber, using a similar optical effect, a live spirit appeared to walk around an audience volunteer who mounted the stage to sit at a table.

Early goth amusement? Death themed bar? Were the 1890s the coolest time to be alive? More here and here, but little real information I could find in English. Does anyone have any more information on this? If so, please share!