The International Jugglers Association (IJA) Newsletter, a vital organ of the global juggling community from 1949 to 1981, serves as the primary historical record for a lost era of variety performance. For over a decade, professional juggler and historian David Cain has been engaged in a painstaking archival project to locate, digitize, and preserve a complete collection of these newsletters. While the bulk of this historical record remains trapped in fragile, physical formats—with only the years 1976–1978 having been previously digitized—Cain’s ongoing efforts have begun to surface extraordinary accounts of Vaudeville-era legends, technical breakthroughs, and the social fabric of the mid-20th-century juggling circuit. This report synthesizes discoveries from the 1965 editions, shedding light on the personal histories of the world’s most elite performers.

A Reunion of Icons: The 1965 IJA Convention

One of the most poignant discoveries within the 1965 archives concerns the intersection of two pioneering performers: Selma Braatz and George W. Rowland. Braatz, widely recognized as the first female international juggling star, and Rowland, a preeminent African-American Vaudeville juggler, shared a historic reunion at the 1965 IJA Convention.

The two had not seen each other for three decades, having last performed together in a stage production titled "The Three Generations," where they portrayed father and daughter. Witnesses at the 1965 event noted that the professional bond transcended the stage; throughout the convention, Braatz maintained the affectionate, habitual address of "father" when referring to Rowland. This interaction highlights the deep, familial camaraderie that defined the itinerant lives of Vaudeville performers, many of whom formed lasting, surrogate-family bonds while touring the global circuit.

Reflections on the Titans: Cinquevalli and Salerno

Selma Braatz’s contributions to the 1965 newsletter offer a rare, firsthand account of the social connections between the most famous jugglers of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Braatz provided personal insights into the lives of Paul Cinquevalli and the performer known as Salerno, both of whom were giants of their respective generations.

Braatz’s accounts detail a life of constant transit and intellectual curiosity among these performers. She recalled meeting Cinquevalli at the Wintergarden in Berlin when she was just 15 years old. The relationship was mentorship-driven, with Braatz referring to him as "Uncle Paul." The correspondence between these performers was constant; Braatz noted she possessed a photographic card from 1907 showing Cinquevalli with his first automobile—a luxury that signaled his status as an international star.

The historical record suggests that these jugglers were among the first to adopt modern technological advancements. Braatz recounted how Salerno, during a 1906 engagement at the Amsterdam Roof, was noted as the first European performer to own an automobile. Furthermore, Salerno’s technical aptitude extended beyond the stage; he was noted by his contemporaries for his interest in aviation, eventually constructing his own airplane. These anecdotes provide a broader context for the "Golden Age" of juggling, illustrating that the top-tier performers of the era were not merely entertainers but were often among the most affluent and technologically literate individuals of their time.

Operational Realities of the Vaudeville Era

The archival research also illuminates the technical evolution of stage performance. A report from performer Tommy Breen in 1965 provides a humorous look at the transition from piano-accompanied acts to the rise of full-scale theatrical orchestras.

Breen recounted the debut of the Derenda and Breen act at Koster & Bials Continental Music Hall in New York City. At the time, this was one of the few venues to employ a full orchestra led by a conductor. The transition proved disorienting for Derenda, who had never performed with a formal conductor. Upon seeing the conductor’s baton movements—which he interpreted as a signal for him to leave the stage—he abandoned his performance, only to be stopped by Breen, who explained that the "man waving his hands" was not a heckler, but a facilitator. This anecdote underscores the rapid professionalization of the Vaudeville circuit and the occasional friction caused by shifting industry standards.

Technical Milestones and Competitive Feats

The 1965 newsletters also served as a forum for debating and documenting the "impossible" feats that pushed the boundaries of human dexterity. Performers like Ronald, of the Masone and Ronald act, gained acclaim for high-difficulty maneuvers that required near-perfect spatial awareness. Ronald’s signature trick—kicking a top hat, a clay pipe, a box of matches, a pair of gloves, and a walking stick into position simultaneously—remains a testament to the level of precision expected in the era.

Other figures highlighted in the archives include:

• Gene Silla: An Estonian contemporary whose skill with sticks or batons was claimed by some to surpass that of the legendary Rastelli. Silla was noted for his ability to juggle seven sticks while simultaneously bouncing a ball on his head.
• Eduardo Raspini: Recognized for his technical innovation in ring juggling, specifically the use of foot-catches while maintaining a seven-ring pattern.
• Rudy Horn: Renowned for his "teaspoon routine," a feat that required fifteen years of rehearsal. The routine involved balancing a spoon on his forehead, executing a somersault, and catching the object behind his ear. Horn’s experience illustrates a common frustration among master performers: the most difficult feats were often the least appreciated by audiences, who frequently suspected mechanical assistance or gimmicks.
• Francis Brunn: Documented for his extraordinary versatility with a single tennis ball, demonstrating a repertoire that included complex rolls, bounces, and foot-catches that highlighted the aesthetic potential of minimalist props.

Analytical Perspective: The Archival Impact

The efforts of David Cain to compile these records carry significant weight for the history of performance arts. By recovering these newsletters, the juggling community gains a clearer picture of the evolution of the craft. The debates found in the 1965 pages—such as the discussion regarding the validity of claims about Dick Ricton’s 11-ball juggling—show that the IJA Newsletter served not just as a notice board, but as a space for historical verification and competitive dialogue.

The implications of this archival work are twofold. First, it preserves the lineage of techniques that define modern juggling. Second, it humanizes the figures who built the profession. When modern practitioners read about the struggles of Derenda with an orchestra, or the birthday parties shared by Cinquevalli and Braatz, they are not merely learning about tricks; they are gaining an understanding of the socioeconomic and cultural life of 20th-century performers.

Broader Implications for Juggling History

The 1965 IJA archives represent a microcosm of the mid-century variety arts scene. They reveal a community that was deeply invested in its own history, consistently seeking to document the passing of its legends while simultaneously fostering the growth of younger talent.

The inclusion of statements from performers like Larry Weeks, who humorously admitted to not having practiced his act since 1935 yet remained gainfully employed, provides a necessary contrast to the high-pressure descriptions of perfectionists like Rudy Horn. These accounts collectively form a more realistic, nuanced history of the profession. As more of these documents are unearthed and cataloged, the juggling community continues to build a more comprehensive institutional memory, ensuring that the contributions of artists like Braatz, Rowland, and Silla are not lost to time.

The ongoing recovery of these newsletters confirms that the IJA’s history is far more than a collection of meeting dates and address changes; it is a vital narrative of the human capacity for physical mastery and a record of the individuals who dedicated their lives to the pursuit of the seemingly impossible. As David Cain continues to process these records, the juggling world anticipates further insights into the lives of those who set the stage for the modern era.