Dr Zofia Weaver, co-author with Ian Stevenson and Mary Rose Barrington of A World in a Grain of Sand: The Clairvoyance of Stefan Ossowiecki (2005), and a past editor of the Journal and Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, has produced a short book packed with information on the mediumship of Warsaw-born Teofil Modrzejewski (1873-1943), who used the pseudonym Franek Kluski.  He is not as well known in the English-speaking world as other mediums, notably D D Home and Eusapia Palladino, or even Rudi Schneider, largely because much of the reporting of his mediumship was in Polish.  Weaver has helped to redress the situation by making available material not previously translated into English and providing a balanced assessment of Kluski’s extraordinary career as a medium.

That career was an unusual one.  The most significant portion of it was also surprisingly short, comprising some 340 sittings held between 1918 and 1925.  He was already 45 when he began in late 1918, and fell into it by accident: he attended a séance and discovered that he too seemed to possess mediumistic abilities, though he did claim to have had psychic experiences in childhood.  He began to hold séances himself, but never gained financially from doing so, never performed in public, and did not seek recognition.  He thought mediumship in general to be a ‘circus’, of which he had no ambition to become a part.  His choice of pseudonym itself played down the remarkable events which surrounded him – Weaver says that kluski is a particularly dull type of pasta.

In addition to providing biographical details and outlining what is known about Kluski’s character,  Weaver sets this period in the context of Poland’s fortunes before the First World War and its emergence as an independent state in November 1918.  It seems likely that Kluski was involved in the conflict as he had extensive military connections and was a volunteer during the Polish-Soviet War (and he had actually fought a duel in his twenties).  After the war he had a day job in banking, in addition to being a journalist and man of letters, though he never wrote about his séance room activities and was reluctant to talk about them.  In addition to his military friends he had a wide range of professional connections.  People from both spheres attended his séances and Weaver provides details of a few of these individuals, giving an insight into the milieu in which Kluski moved.  In short he did not conform to the typical stereotype of a medium only partially connected to this world.

Kluski’s mediumship was intensively scrutinised, not only by Polish psychical researchers, but by others further afield, notably Charles Richet, Camille Flammarion, Everard Feilding, Barbara and Hewat McKenzie of the British College of Psychic Science, and particularly Gustave Geley.  Kluski was happy to work with sympathetic investigators, and they were impressed by what occurred in their presence.  A primary source is the 586-page Polish-language book, Reminiscences of Séances with the Medium Franek Kluski (1926), by Colonel Norbert Okolowicz, who attended many of Kluski’s séances, and Weaver draws on it extensively.  A further important source is Gustave Geley’s Clairvoyance and Materialisation (1927), which has much to say about Kluski.  In addition Weaver has been able to examine Polish records compiled by others, and provide information on Kluski and his achievements that has not hitherto been available in English.

The sheer range of what went on around him is astonishing.  Kluski is probably best known for the production of wax moulds said to be made by the immersion of spirits’ materialised body parts, but there was a great deal more.  Phenomena included strange phosphorescent mists, movement of objects, odd noises and raps, odours, apports in and out of the séance room and lights moving around.  Figures were frequently visible, sometimes only partly materialised.  At other times they became increasingly clear until they achieved their final form, seeming to take their energy from the participants by rubbing their clothing, or growing from a small to full size in accordance with the sitters’ intention. It is important to note that Kluski did not insist on complete darkness; dim red light and luminous plaques aided vision, and a number of the figures were self-illuminating.  Sitters often recognised the visitors and there was interaction between them; the materialised apparitions demonstrated personality, some could read sitters’ minds and would respond to thoughts.  The participants’ attitudes set the tone, and the degree of group cohesion, along with Kluski’s physical and mental health, influenced the production and strength of phenomena.

In addition to the human figures, too dissimilar to Kluski to be the result of impersonation, materialisations included dogs, cats, squirrels, a large bird, all suggesting that not only humans survive bodily death, and an ape-like creature which Geley called ‘Pithecanthropus’ and which was said to smell like a wet dog.  Strange phenomena were not confined to the séance room but occurred outside it as well.  These included floating lights, compass needles in a display case moving when Kluski leaned over them, and affecting electric lighting.  On one occasion at a regimental dinner he held a fluent conversation with Tartar officers in their language, despite not knowing it, and only understood he had done so when told the following day.  He was able to exercise clairvoyance, and most dramatically (a somewhat relative term when discussing Kluski) had a facility for bilocation, including one occasion when Geley saw him in Paris while he was actually in Warsaw.

Weaver deals at length with the wax moulds, the subject of vigorous controversy in the pages of the SPR’s Journal in the 1990s following first a book review by Michael H. Coleman in 1989 which dismissed them, and then stimulated further by Weaver’s 1992 paper ‘The Enigma of Franek Kluski’.  The hope that they (or at least the plaster casts taken from them) might represent an unambiguously permanent paranormal object has not been fulfilled, but if they were a trick, it was an accomplished one in the confines of the séance room, surrounded by witnesses.  In a refinement to the normal procedure Geley and Richet added blue colouring to the paraffin to guard against pre-prepared wax moulds being smuggled in, and the wax in which the mould was made was found to be blue, showing that it had to have been created in situ.  An alternative safeguard was to add cholesterol to the paraffin; the advantage over a dye is that it does not discolour the wax on its own, but when sulphuric acid is added it becomes red.  These are controls which critics need to account for when assessing how the moulds might have been produced.

Kluski’s general health was not good and he suffered during séances, finding them exhausting.  At times Kluski turned more to automatic writing, which placed less strain on him.  The words were sometimes in a language he did not know, albeit he was a polyglot, and the handwriting and content (though not necessarily the views, perhaps influenced by Kluski) were acknowledged by sitters as appropriate to particular deceased individuals.  Messages occasionally arrived from people who were living but asleep at the time.  Weaver notes that his mediumship continued after 1925, but again the emphasis was on automatic writing.  He clearly felt that there was a tension between his mediumship and his religious faith and he eventually stopped altogether in September 1939 because of Church disapproval; one suspects though that he did not find it difficult, considering the physical toll, and perhaps he felt he had nothing to prove so no reason to continue.

Weaver draws comparisons with other mediums and concludes that while elements of Kluski’s mediumship can be found in theirs, what makes it noteworthy was its scale.  To explain it away as trickery is to assume a high degree of gullibility, but many of the sitters were highly experienced and aware of methods of cheating.  That is not to rule out deception completely, and an assumption of expertise can lead to complacency; but if the sitters had been gullible then Kluski’s success at fooling them so comprehensively would betoken a degree of idiocy as incredible as the things they witnessed.   If fraud, it was of a sophisticated kind that could hoodwink sharp and knowledgeable researchers so thoroughly.  While séances seem to have been well-controlled (Kluski was prepared to participate naked, which definitely shows a willingness to cooperate), sceptics will argue that holding them in Kluski’s own apartment was a fatal weakness.  Yet he was happy to work in red light, and there were still manifestations when Kluski was away from home, including visiting the Institut Métapsychique International in Paris in 1920 where he was studied by Geley, its director.  Again that does not rule out fraud completely, but it does make it more difficult to dismiss the phenomena.

Kluski is a significant figure in the history of psychical research who deserves to be better known, and for more than just the production of ‘spirit hands’.  What makes him special in Weaver’s eyes is that his mediumship manages to combine just about every aspect of mental and physical mediumship.  In trying to evaluate this wealth of data she asks: ‘what is impossible?’  If we can’t answer that, how can we dismiss Kluski’s evidence as not being possible, however unlikely it is?  Alan Gauld, who contributes the foreword, characterises Kluski as ‘a uniquely puzzling individual’, so the use of ‘enigma’ in the subtitle is well chosen.  Any kind of conclusion is elusive, but Kluski, as a result of Dr Weaver’s efforts, can assume his place among those mediums of the first rank whose accomplishments pose challenges for our understanding of the world.  She concludes with the suggestion that physical mediumship should be taken more seriously today for what it might tell us about, in her words, ‘realities not available to most of us’.  Who knows, in so doing we may find another Franek Kluski.

An interview with Carlos Alvarado, in which Zofia Weaver discusses the book, can be found here:  https://carlossalvarado.wordpress.com/tag/zofia-weaver-franek-kluski-physical-mediumship/

Beatrice Brunner (1910-83) was a German-speaking Swiss trance medium.  Over a period of 35 years (1948-83) she produced some 2,500 lectures, including 91 reports said to derive from departed individuals.  A selection of twelve such reports, received between 1961 and 1969, have been transcribed into faultless English from the German-language tape recordings and published by ABZ Verlag, Zürich.  Typically an account gives some indication of what life was like before death, initial experiences after it, and how spiritual progress has been made since.  The focus is firmly Christian, but earthly religious affiliation is irrelevant; it is the quality of the life which was lived that is important, and divine justice ensures that sins and good deeds are weighed.  Even atheists are allowed entry, and they soon see the errors of their ways when it becomes obvious that God exists and is the supreme ruler.  If their admittance comes as a surprise, even more so is the existence of gnomes and elves living alongside humans described in one narrative.

So what is it like in this place?  All arrive on equal terms, as status on earth is irrelevant here – in fact an easy past life can prove to be a disadvantage as it means more work to catch up spiritually.  This is a world of balance and karma (though not a term that is used).  An increase in earthly prosperity has it appears actually created a change in afterlife conditions.  In the old days, when more people had nothing, arriving in the hereafter was to find comparative luxury.  The humbler circumstances prevailing during life meant that more ‘spiritual purification’ could be achieved prior to death.  With conditions for many improving though, that pre-mortem process is less available, requiring greater effort after it.  Having been pious in life is not enough to guarantee progress in the afterlife if it was in form only; there has to have been sincerity behind it.  The degree of sincere devoutness the person had on earth, and the amount of adversity faced, influence the speed of advancement in the Hereafter.  One gets credit for having remained true to one’s faith in difficult circumstances, or enduring extreme poverty and hardship, or even having had a lot of children.

It can take time for the newly-arrived to adjust, but there is guidance on offer to help smooth the transition (assisting others conferring credit).  Once the adjustment is made, the emphasis is on work.  This is not the sort of afterlife where one relaxes with a cigar and a glass of whisky.  At first life can be rather tedious, often with plenty of manual labour, though there is a suggestion that things get better as one grows spiritually and has atoned for past sins.  There may be a Swiss work ethic reflected here, with Brunner unable to contemplate a heaven where souls simply sit around idle and the means of sustenance are provided without effort.  The work is much the same as on earth, as it is obligatory to learn skills.  It is also necessary to learn foreign languages, the afterlife not having apparently overcome the language barrier.  Fortunately labour is not the sole occupation, as time is set aside to worship God.  One spirit attends an appearance by Jesus which sounds much like a celebrity arriving to greet fans, and for some reason Jesus has guards to look after him.

With that sort of exception it sounds a dull place, with a rigid hierarchy, a surprisingly authoritarian emphasis on receiving permission to do things, and a requirement for obedience.  Everybody we meet is parochial, with little appetite for exploring further afield, even though the territory, we are informed, is vast.  There is also a strange obsession with one’s appearance, hard work and therefore progression enabling nice clothes to be acquired and the higher spirits looking, well, divine.  Those who refuse to work wear drab tatty garments and are ignored by the grafters.  Others cling resolutely to the earth for a time, unwilling to give up its pleasures even though they can only enjoy them second-hand, until they realise how futile it is.  Everybody gets with the programme eventually.

Development thereafter is a personal task, and it is common for those newly arrived to be told that they cannot meet relatives, or only for a brief period, as they must all pursue their own individual paths.  The wishes of individuals themselves count for little in the grand scheme.  There is even a reference to being ‘re-educated’, which has a sinister ring.  It is not a straightforward picture of heaven as a place of unconfined joy.  Mixed in with the idea of upward progress is that of reincarnation, returning to the living world to undertake further learning (going from aristocrat to shepherd in consecutive lives, for example).

The publisher has done a good job with the book’s production but less well with the provision of supplementary information.  There is an introduction, but it mainly deals with general issues of mediumship, much of it in a Biblical context.  An epilogue indicates that Brunner is extremely influential in the German-speaking world: her lectures have been published in Geistige Welt, the oldest Christian Spiritualist paper, since 1948, and there is a very attractive centre in Zürich in which the recordings are played.  Both enterprises are managed by an organisation called Pro Beatrice.  However there is little information on Brunner herself, there is no indication why these twelve accounts should be particularly noteworthy, nor how they relate to the many lectures she gave.

It is entirely possible that Beatrice Brunner was able to tap into the afterlife, and the people there were able to channel testimonies through her that will help those whose turn is yet to come to be prepared.  The general consistency of the witnesses would be the result of their world’s reality.  On the other hand there is never any information that would help to identify them as having lived, and it is entirely possible that the consistency is more the result of Brunner’s own views on what the afterlife should be like.

While it always pleasant to think that our consciousness survives death, these reports do not come across as a particularly appealing view of the hereafter.  The communicators talk about ‘coming home’, ‘for the true life is the life of the spirit’, yet it is hard to see how its strictness can compare favourably with the earth life left behind for anyone who has not previously suffered extreme privation and who can therefore anticipate being fast-tracked.  It doesn’t feel like a place to look forward to for the rest of us if these descriptions of it are a reliable indication.

NB This volume was published in 2013.  It was republished the following year in ebook form by ABZ Verlag as Life after Life: A Selection of Individual Experiences in the Beyond.

Pro Beatrice’s website: http://www.probeatrice.ch/index.php/en/

The Britten Memorial Museum, named after Emma Hardinge Britten, is housed in the Arthur Findlay College at Stansted Hall, Stansted Mountfitchet, Essex.  The College is administered by the Spiritualists’ National Union, and the museum contains a wide range of exhibits relating to Spiritualism.  Among these are a number of casts made from wax moulds, artefacts said to demonstrate the reality of spirits.  The museum’s curator, Paul Gaunt (also editor of both the Psypioneer and The Pioneer electronic journals) has compiled this informative booklet which discusses the museum’s collection of casts, other instances of them in the literature, and the debate that took place within the Society for Psychical Research over the evidential value they provide.

The theory behind the moulds is that a spirit would be able to produce one by materialising a portion of itself, usually a hand but also part of a foot or even its face, and pushing it into a bowl of warm paraffin wax.  The resulting wax sleeve could be set in cold water, leaving a mould that would be undamaged upon the limb’s dematerialisation.  Repeated immersions, building up layers, would serve to increase the thickness and strength of the mould.  As wax is so fragile, it can be filled with plaster of Paris which upon setting retains (leaving aside distortions and damage from handling) the shape and detail of the materialised body part in a more permanent form.

Wax moulds date from as early as the 1870s, but those at Stansted Hall were donated by Sutton-in-Ashfield Spiritualist church in Nottinghamshire, where they had been on display since 1938.  These, Gaunt suggests, may well have been the last done by mediums (as opposed to researchers).  An article in the 16 December issue of Two Worlds, which is reprinted, describes their production through the mediumship of William and George Finney, uncle and nephew, at Sutton-in-Ashfield.

According to the Two Worlds article, the moulds were created by the pair in informal conditions, not during a séance but sitting in the dark in a cupboard under the stairs with buckets of melted wax and cold water.  The booklet contains three colour photographs of the museum’s casts, wax still adhering, showing them in all their strange beauty.  One is of a pair of hands with interlinked fingers presented in a way that, it has been argued, would be more difficult to fake than it would a single hand.

The article is followed by an outline history of wax moulds, placing them in the context of the development of Spiritualist phenomena.  Wax moulds were preceded by impressions left in putty and flour, but paraffin offered a more suitable material, and the technique was used by a number of mediums.  Gaunt gives a short overview of some of them, but notes that each generally only tried the procedure for a brief period, and after becoming fashionable in the 1870s it went into abeyance until revived by the remarkable Franek Kluski, subject of a recent book by Zofia Weaver.  Weaver and Gaunt both mention that at least in Kluski’s case it was a messy business, with splashes of wax everywhere, which perhaps made it unappealing for sitters even though the results were startling.

Gaunt includes sections on experiments with Kluski at the Institut Métapsychique International in Paris and in Warsaw conducted by Gustave Geley (three photographs, two of hands and one of a foot, from Geley’s 1927 Clairvoyance and Materialisation are shown, the hands revealing remarkable skin features), and on the rather fractious debate that took place in the pages of the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research in the early 1990s over whether it was possible to reproduce moulds like Kluski’s by normal means.

Gaunt’s conclusion from the debate is that a living hand can be removed from a wax mould IF the wax is of a reasonable thickness caused by repeated immersion; but the thinness that Kluski is reported to have achieved through a single immersion, and without setting in cold water, should make the operation impossible as the mould would be too fragile for withdrawal without its destruction.  His verdict is that, pending further research which adheres to Geley’s precise method (which recreations so far have failed to do), Kluski’s moulds can be considered good evidence for the return of spirits.

A review by Alan Murdie will appear in the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research.

A review by Robert Charman will appear in the SPR's Journal.