The Seal Of Delcite

It was fun having children walk across a creepy Thaumaturgic Triangle on Halloween night.

  

"Fun."

  

They were unaware that their souls were being offered to the First Witch in her throne (as the mere act of passing over the Seal was all that was required for such a Dark Contract).  We braced for an angry parent accusing us of chalking a Satanic symbol on the porch, but thankfully no one seemed to mind (or maybe they didn't notice).  

We called it the Seal of Delcite as a nod to the Curse of Delcite mentioned in my personal favorite episode of the old AMAZING STORIES series.  The Curse of Delcite was supposed to be a spell to inflict hiccups on its target, but things don't go as planned and the antagonist (Christopher Lloyd) ends up losing his head (read more about it here).

I've mentioned it before a long time ago (old blog post here), but I always found that a backstory (even one that isn't shared with anyone) really aids the creative process.  And it helps make a Haunt more logical to the viewer.  

Click here for a short video.

Bobby's Last Halloween

No clue what year this was, but it's definitely not one of my finer moments.  A small trick-or-treater, wearing a Casper mask, surrounded by zombies (where one of them has the boy's pant leg in its teeth).  

I recall kids and visitors really enjoying the humor element, but I think I was bothered by the stillness of it all.  The fact that this moment, which should have movement and flailing and horror, appeared frozen in time really detracted from the point of it all.  I think that was where I started to process just how does a person make a static prop appear to be something other than a snapshot of a moving object?  And that's where building a prop that appears to be at rest is the key - a creature that has momentarily paused.  Maybe a better presentation would have been if a bunch of the zombies were cradling a dead or unconscious child.  Like a bunch of hyenas protecting a fresh kill?  I kind of like the idea of seeing all those boney arms and hands clasping a motionless figure.  

Some observations about the photograph...  You can see a standing zombie in the background.  I hung it from a rope and made the limbs very loose so it would sway in the breeze and appear to be a reanimated corpse.  The wind never came.  

You can see me to the right, standing up (dressed as Michael Myers).  If I had to guess, I was rising to tell my mother to stop taking flash photos, as she was ruining what little atmosphere there was.

And my dad's garage door desperately needed some paint (though that definitely was adding back the atmosphere my mother was destroying).

Haunt Theory: Introduction

You'll get a kick out of this.
Going through old files and found the "manuscript" of the ancient idea I was kicking around of putting down some Haunting tips and tales into some kind of book.
I pasted the intro onto a fun photo for effect...

Halloween Horticulture

Drove past a house and saw that they had old dried vines growing around and onto the porch. They looked like grape vines. They also had a row of tomato plants that had withered and browned along the walk to the front porch. It got me thinking about the different plants that a person could grow through the year with the goal of having gnarly nasty old dried up creepy plants for Halloween night. The tomatoes were still on the vine and they looked like mini green and red pumpkins. The brown leaves and vines were brittle and thinning. I imagined jack o'lanterns at the base of them and how they'd look at night.

I love the idea of an overgrown property on Halloween night (or one made to look like it was overgrown and neglected). Even dirty old terra cotta pots overflowing with dried vines and wrinkled tomatoes could be placed around a haunt. I'd imagine it'd add instant atmosphere.


Image source.

A Loner

I love the wet log being used to level this big guy. Jack O'lanterns look amazing sitting near natural elements, though for the most part you almost always see them sitting alone on a smooth concrete step or porch. It's only recently that I started to push them further into the bushes around the porch or sprinkle a pile of leaves around their bases, making sure one or two land on the lid. A bundle of sticks tied at the top would look neat resting behind a few pumpkins. If you grow your own or pick your own at a farm, leave the runners on the stems or clip a length of vines and leaves to stuff in-between your pumpkins on Halloween night. I think messy is good when it comes to natural elements. A jack o'lantern whose face is obscured by some vines, sticks, or leaves is an entirely different animal.

Image source.

Haunt Theory: Point Of View

I've often said that even if I didn't get one child trick-or-treating on Halloween night, I'd still do my yard haunt. And I would.

But since I probably don't have to worry about that happening at the current suburban location of my haunt, I started to think about an aspect of my display that I've never really spoken about - it's designed for kids. Not in the dripping dried-up organs and armless zombies sort of way, but rather in the way I build the props and display them.

During the construction process of a prop, I'll find myself lowering my point of view to the height of a child to see what they'd see. I use that technique to determine the height of my props, or the tilt of a head, or the height of a reaching arm. The Hollowmen scarecrows were placed lower on their posts so a non-adult could see more details. I didn't want trick-or-treaters looking up and seeing scarecrow nostrils. The Ghost Dead were all made with height in mind. My Witches' faces are all about the height of a child, as they crouch around their fire. I think it's more intimidating and personal that way. The trick-or-treater is face-to-face with a Witch - not just looking up at one.

Nothing too severe, just a few inches to a foot on the height of a prop, or a more drastic head-tilt or positioning on a taller prop, as if it's looking down at a child rather than straight on at an adult.

So if I lived somewhere that never saw any kid-traffic on Halloween night, I'd do the same all-out haunt. It'd just be a few inches higher.

Haunt Theory: Recycling

I have been born more times than anybody except Krishna.
- Mark Twain


I love recycling props. I love tearing old props apart. And I love giving face-lifts. The last time I was in the attic collecting items for this year's haunt, I noticed that my HOLLOW scarecrow wasn't looking so good. Since he was only intended for my yard haunt, I didn't build him as durable as my other props. I didn't have to worry about the rain or heavy wind. I've learned a bunch of shortcuts over the years. Building props for a one-night event is a totally different animal than building a prop for the shop, or a scarecrow for the contest. Well, HOLLOW was looking a little spent. And my Pumpkin Sentinels were designed and burning a hole in my brain.

The first Sentinel's head is, you guessed it, HOLLOW's head. The hands of both Sentinels are HOLLOW's hands (I love one-armed props, by the way).


HOLLOW lives again [left]

Recycling your old props, even ones you love, can make you grow artistically I think. There will always be the nostalgic props you adore, (and don't you dare lay a finger on them). I'll always keep ROOTS and JOHNNY APPLESEED. But the others are fair game. Like a mache junk yard of spare parts for future monsters.

Recycling is like making a prop immortal - or at least making it last until next Halloween.

Haunt Theory: Backstory

In the early days of my haunt, I can recall creating some basic information regarding the logic behind my display's layout - a story to justify why props ended up where they ended up. I didn't share it with anyone. It was just something I kept in the back of my mind to help me with the flow of things (and to have a comeback if my father asked an annoying/condescending question like "Why ain't that skull coming back to life like them dead people are?").

Back in the late 90s, when I first added a Witch to my display, things really clicked when she became the logic behind the rising corpses. She was responsible. She was causing it (and loving it). Still didn't share it with anyone though. It was just something in my mind like a private joke. But it made things feel natural and logical.

My scarecrows have all benefited from a backstory. Back in 2005, I had the fun of inventing a Bigfoot-like creature called Roots and received emails asking me if it was an actual legend. My Bog Man's faux history is something that I still enjoy reading about, as if it were actually a real tale.

Having a backstory evolved over the years into something that I personally MUST have in order to feel comfortable with my yard haunt. The Three Sisters raising zombies from an old cemetery. A Wrath Poltergeist forming as an angry byproduct of reanimated corpses - filled with hate and rage and violence. The return of the Sisters with a new plan: fusing souls of the departed with their rotting corpses to create the Ghost Dead - forcing ghostly zombies to do their bidding (more powerful than regular zombies, by the way - and a gunshot to the brain won't help in the least). A field of mysterious scarecrows in a lonely and dark hollow. And then a repulsive legend of something called a Corn Witch.

For the most part, people visiting the haunt will never know your backstory. And that's just fine. It's really for you anyway.

Natural

This goes back to an earlier post on Traditionalism and the state of your Halloween display before thinking of adding additional props. I absolutely love the design here: stacked old boards, rusty tools, hanging antlers and bones, cobwebs, cornstalks, piles of leaves, and jack o'lanterns - one of them on the top of a ladder. Even with the flash of the camera eating up a lot of atmosphere, you can tell this porch display is creepy and unnerving. And not one corpse or scarecrow in sight.

Image source.

Haunt Theory: Details

The Devil really IS in the details. Tiny things like leaves in the witch's hair (from the previous post) really transform that prop into something living. I love when I get my props out of the attic each year and they have tiny cobwebs or leaves from the prior year still clinging to them.

My witches' cloaks are filthy and earthy and smell of attic and dust. The wrinkled blotchy appearance of their clothing gives a lot of believability to them - they've been up to no good. For my scarecrows, I'll wrap rough twine around their limbs for added detail, or rip pieces of cheesecloth, dip them into glue, and slap them on and paint over them when they're dry. Maybe it's ancient clothing, or dried skin, or webs. I think clothing can make or break a prop, and dipping a new shirt into a mixture of glue, water, and paint before applying it to your zombie can make all the difference in the world.

Going to try to focus on the details this year, more so than usual. I want the display to feel real. The Corn Witches are mean. Brutal. And I want the Haunt to feel that way. I want it to be terrifying. And somewhat repulsive even.

Goosebumps just talking about it. : )

Haunt Theory: Traditionalism

Was thinking about how traditional a haunt should be. Every Halloween morning, when I first start building the display, I spend a significant amount of time arranging cornstalks and pumpkins. I need my haunt to feel like Halloween before I even consider placing any groundbreakers, witches, or scarecrows. If the Traditional side of your haunt is covered, it'll enhance the entire display, regardless of the theme. Leaves, cornstalks, and jack 0'lanterns can make a haunt totally memorable in the absence of any homemade or store-bought props. I joked last year that I wished someone would tell me that I wasn't allowed to use any props at all in my display - just natural elements. That'd be a really neat exercise in building a haunt.

Haunt Theory: Leaves

It's amazing the amount of time throughout the year I spend worrying about leaves. The weeks before Halloween are particularly stressful. Studying the trees and whining about how they aren't dropping their leaves quick enough. Or worrying about those giant wind/rain storms in the Fall that seem to make leaves magically disappear all at once.

In the years I lived in an apartment, I'd actually resort to stealing bags of leaves left at the curb of homes with leafy properties. I'm sure the homeowners wouldn't mind, but it always felt wrong and I always ended up taking them after the sun had gone down. Last year I troubled a coworker for her leaves - showing up at her house on a Saturday to rake up delightfully-huge leaves from massive elm trees in her backyard. I joked that I'd return them after Halloween (and I totally should have done that).

Initially used just to cover the bases of my groundbreakers, the leaves would eventually blow across the path leading up to the porch. The atmosphere achieved was pretty remarkable. Not only did it look neat and creepy, but the sound of the crunching leaves was as important as any prop or pumpkin. Since then, I cover the walkway entirely with leaves. There are moments when a scared child hesitates at the end of the walk looking up into the darkness at a motionless Michael Myers. They pause and then slowly approach me for their candy. They shuffle through the leaves. That old parchment scraping sound is pretty fantastic.

Hardly any leaves remain in this shot taken at the end of a long night.

Haunt Theory: Static Props

I'm a static prop haunter. I've always been one. Until my site went live back around 2003, I never even knew there was a name for what I did. If your props move or have a spring-action mechanism which activates when they're approached or if your props are powered by compressed air cylinders, you're an animatronic or pneumatic haunter. If your props are made with tiny animal bones, you're a sociopathic haunter.

As a static prop haunter, my props are motionless. So I have to try to achieve a potential for movement - an appearance that my props are in a moment of rest, or waiting. I've found that the static props that work best are the ones that look like they've just paused for a second:

Corpses that just pushed out of the ground and are now surveying their surroundings...


Witches that are staring into a steaming cauldron thinking dark twisted things...


or a skeleton stretching out its hand seconds before the hand drops to the ground for leverage.



The static props that I've been most disappointed with in my display are the ones that end up looking like they're trapped in time - frozen in movement. That's a totally different animal than a moment of rest. It's like a photograph of a moving creature, rather than a creature about to pounce.

I think that's why I love scarecrows so much. They're motionless by their very nature. Hanging on their posts, waiting. And moving only when the wind blows.

Every Halloween, after I've set up the display, my father will come out and do a casual inspection of the haunt, "It's a shame you can't make these things move and put red lights in their eyes." I'm not about to explain to him that I'm a static prop haunter. He already thinks I'm a whacko.

Haunt Theory: Lighting

Got a question about my lighting techniques. The insanely-talented Rob at SkullandBone.com has the finest lighting tutorial around. I agree with his approach as it front-lights your props and creates some beautiful shadows and accents the most important part of your hard work - the front.

My yard haunt has two main issues that forced me to light the haunt from the above tree branches:

1. A super bright and super close street lamp (that provides a lot of ambient front-lighting).
2. A horrible family that walks through the lawn of the yard haunt, between the props, and under the tree.

One experience comes to mind. I use two strings of flickering flame bulbs for under my witches' iron cauldron. I love that effect and take a crazy amount of time to perfect it. Placing the twigs and sticks of the fire carefully as to hide the bulbs and wires, but to allow enough orange light through. A member of my family walked across the lawn and got tangled in the extension cord running to those lights. I watched those flickering bulbs go flying quite a few times over the years. Pushing the lights and sticks back under the cauldron quickly before more trick or treaters arrive is another sickening ritual I could do without. I can only imagine if I ran cords to the front of my display to feed flood lamps placed there. It's surprising how many people actually cut through the small lawn of my yard haunt.

So it's actually a practical use of lighting, and I'm surprised my family doesn't climb the tree at some point during the night, tangling my wires and breaking my bulbs while they fish around in the branches.

That said, I think tree lighting from above can work if you keep in mind the importance of shadows. I always make sure some pine needles and branches of the tree are in front of the flood lamps. And I try not to go overboard with making the haunt too bright. I think of it as moonlight. Smaller bulbs stuffed into the bushes or cornstalks on each side of the porch add a lot of atmosphere. In the case of my witches' smoking cauldron, I had a green spotlight shining straight down into the cauldron. The fog appeared to be giving off a ghostly green glow.


Every year, I venture back to where I grew up and haunt my folks' lawn. I won't be doing that forever and I'm looking forward to a change of scenery and a new environment. And you can bet I'll be using some of SkullandBone's techniques for lighting it.

Haunt Theory: Flames

Can't stress enough just how much I love using real flames in my haunt. It's a detail that people actually notice. My cornstalks at the foot of the walk each had a tin colonial lantern hosting a cool speckled glass candle holder, each with a flickering tea light. It added so much to the atmosphere to use real flames in my two pumpkin-headed scarecrows, and in the chest lantern of Dead Bird and the face lantern of Charred. Whenever the wind blew, the flickering flames each did their own thing, breathing creepy life into the props.


One of these days I'm going to figure out how to use a real log fire under my witches' cauldron without causing a Hindenburg-like event that comes to be known as something like 'The Halloween Fire of 2010."

Haunt Theory: Scarecrow Physiology

I think the success of a scarecrow depends on the positioning of the head. I always aim to make the head below or equal to the shoulder height. That gives a sad and lonely and tormented feeling to the scarecrow. Tilt the head slightly and you have yourself a vile prop.

Pumpkinrot's head was fun because it gave the impression that he was looking down at the people passing by.

Johnny Appleseed backfired on me a little bit since the post was placed further back than I had anticipated, and behind a small wooden fence. For the most part, his face was obscured by the rim of his hat and I think a lot of people didn't realize what was under there. That fit somewhat with my original design, since I imagined people seeing his skeletal teeth and leaning in for a closer look only to see his horrible face. But the distance of the post made that difficult, so people didn't even bother to peek - which, in a weird way, suited me just fine. Like it was my creepy secret (not good for votes, by the way).

Bog Man was neat and that had everything to do with the positioning of his head. Like he doesn't want to be there. Like he's tired of the torment (probably not good for votes either).