The Magic in the Broom: Warlocks and their Haunting Abilities

In a world of magic and enchantment, there exists a rare breed of beings known as warlocks. These powerful sorcerers possess incredible knowledge and control over arcane arts, using their skills to harness the very forces of nature itself. Amongst their many capabilities, one particular talent that sets them apart is their ability to summon and ride magical brooms. Picture a warlock soaring through the night sky, mounted on a broomstick that radiates a mesmerizing glow. As they clutch their staff firmly in one hand, their other hand controls the broom's movements, guiding it effortlessly through the air. The broom responds to the warlock's will, zipping and twirling with great agility as they navigate the vast expanse above.

This is the question I set out to answer in my book, Waking the Witch: Reflections on Women, Magic, and Power. In it, I explore how the figure of the witch is inextricably linked to our anxieties and aspirations regarding female power. Looking at witches in fiction became a crucial part of my research because, as I quickly discovered, the archetype of the witch is constantly evolving, and beliefs about “real” witches are deeply influenced by the stories we tell about them. In other words, our conception of witches is a cross-pollination—or even a cross-pollution—between reality and fantasy.

More than one woman wears a voluminous cape; some subjects fingers are crowded with ornate, sculptural rings, and others makeup is goth-y and exaggerated lips crimson, eyes dramatically shaded. Okorafor s Akata series is an example of Africanjujuism, a term she coined to describe, in her words, a subcategory of fantasy that respectfully acknowledges the seamless blend of true existing African spiritualities and cosmologies with the imaginative.

The broom responds to the warlock's will, zipping and twirling with great agility as they navigate the vast expanse above. But what exactly makes these brooms magical? The answer lies in the fusion of the warlock's own powers with the essence of the broom. Through intricate rituals and spells, the warlock infuses the broom with enchanted energies, granting it the ability to levitate and glide through the air.

The Many Faces of Women Who Identify as Witches

My first encounter with the figure of a witch in popular culture—apart from those in kids’ movies like Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty” and M-G-M’s “The Wizard of Oz,” or in books like Tomie dePaola’s “Strega Nona” and Roald Dahl’s “The Witches”—was in a campy scene from Oliver Stone’s 1991 bio-pic, “The Doors,” depicting Jim Morrison (played by Val Kilmer) and one of his lovers, a Wiccan witch (a character played by Kathleen Quinlan, and based on the rock journalist Patricia Kennealy, who reportedly married the singer in a Celtic handfasting ceremony, in 1970). In the flickering light of dozens of candles barely illuminating a high-ceilinged chamber, the two peruse an esoteric sorcery tract in the nude, snort cocaine, slit their wrists with a dagger, drink each other’s blood, and have wild sex to the shrieking strains of Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana.”

More than a quarter century later, the often paradoxical grab bag of clichés tied to the contemporary figure of the witch is not that far off, I think, from those shown in Stone’s movie. The witch is often understood as a mishmash of sometimes contradictory clichés: sexually forthright but psychologically mysterious; threatening and haggish but irresistibly seductive; a kooky believer in cultish mumbo-jumbo and a canny she-devil; a sophisticated holder of arcane spiritual knowledge and a corporeal being who is no thought and all instinct. Even more recently, the witch has entered the Zeitgeist as a figure akin to the so-called nasty woman, who—in the face of a Presidential Administration that is quick to cast any criticism as a “witch hunt”—has reclaimed the term for the feminist resistance. (This latter-day witchiness has often been corralled to commercial ends: an Urban Outfitters shirt bearing the words “Boss Ass Witch,” say, or the women-only co-working space the Wing referring to itself as a “coven.”) The muddled stereotypes that surround witches nowadays are, in the end, not so very different from those used to define that perennial problem: woman.

In her portrait series “Major Arcana: Witches in America,” which will be shown at the ClampArt gallery, in Chelsea, beginning October 4th, the photographer Frances F. Denny seeks to explore the figure of the contemporary witch beyond the cultural chestnuts that have shrouded and obscured it. In the course of the past two years, Denny, who holds an M.F.A. in photography from the Rhode Island School of Design (where I taught her for a semester a number of years ago), has travelled in California, Louisiana, and along the East Coast, taking the portraits of dozens of women who identify as witches. Her subjects are of diverse age, social class, and ethnicity, and practice a range of rituals, often drawing on “mysticism, engagement with the occult, politically oriented activism, polytheism, ritualized ‘spell-work’ and plant-based healing,” according to Denny’s exhibition notes. Among them are “self-proclaimed green witches, white witches, kitchen witches, hedge witches, and sex witches.” The series as a whole aims to avoid easy formulas and, instead, to exhibit the heterogeneity and individuality of modern-day witches, Denny told me recently, adding, “I’m not pinning these women down.”

In one photograph—“Randy (Plainfield, VT)”—a grandmotherly woman is standing in a lush green meadow, wearing a flower-sprigged sack dress, her hair arranged a bit girlishly in tousled white ringlets. In one hand she casually clasps a pair of divining rods, while in the other she holds up a pendulum, her gaze raised toward it, her lips upturned in a slight, self-possessed smile. In another—“Kir (Brooklyn, NY)”—a young, lithe woman is dressed in tight black jeans and a tank top, her booted feet planted firmly on a city street, a large, inquisitive-looking tabby cat on a leash at her side. And in “Shine (New York, NY),” a statuesque black woman, posed against a wall of ivy, is dressed in an elaborately embroidered coat, gazing piercingly at the camera. These subjects are all self-identified witches, and yet that fact would not be immediately or necessarily obvious to the uninformed viewer. When she first started the project, Denny read a book by Margot Adler about witches, in which the late journalist and Wiccan priestess argued that “witch” was not just a word but “a cluster of powerful images,” Denny said. “So I thought, I want to make this cluster of images.”

Denny asked the women she photographed for the series to wear an outfit or bring along an item that they felt would represent their practice and identity as witches, and some of the portraits do answer more readily to our expectations of what a witch might look like. More than one woman wears a voluminous cape; some subjects’ fingers are crowded with ornate, sculptural rings, and others’ makeup is goth-y and exaggerated—lips crimson, eyes dramatically shaded. They brandish mysterious implements—a crystal ball, a bow and arrow, a wooden staff; one woman reclines, entwined with a snake—and most are dressed in black. Still, Denny said, it was important for her to make portraits that diverge from the ways she had seen witches typically photographed. “In what I saw out there, there was a lot of low lighting, and a lot of use of colored gels, usually purple or green. There was an immense theatricality,” she told me. In her photographs, Denny used natural light whenever possible, and the women are posed straightforwardly, facing the camera. Like other portraitists, such as the contemporary Dutch photographer Rineke Dijkstra, or the twentieth-century German master August Sander, Denny captures her subjects suspended delicately between performativity and naturalism. These self-identified witches are positioning themselves before us, fully conscious of our eye, and Denny is allowing them a lovely three-dimensionality.

In her portrait series “Major Arcana: Witches in America,” which will be shown at the ClampArt gallery, in Chelsea, beginning October 4th, the photographer Frances F. Denny seeks to explore the figure of the contemporary witch beyond the cultural chestnuts that have shrouded and obscured it. In the course of the past two years, Denny, who holds an M.F.A. in photography from the Rhode Island School of Design (where I taught her for a semester a number of years ago), has travelled in California, Louisiana, and along the East Coast, taking the portraits of dozens of women who identify as witches. Her subjects are of diverse age, social class, and ethnicity, and practice a range of rituals, often drawing on “mysticism, engagement with the occult, politically oriented activism, polytheism, ritualized ‘spell-work’ and plant-based healing,” according to Denny’s exhibition notes. Among them are “self-proclaimed green witches, white witches, kitchen witches, hedge witches, and sex witches.” The series as a whole aims to avoid easy formulas and, instead, to exhibit the heterogeneity and individuality of modern-day witches, Denny told me recently, adding, “I’m not pinning these women down.”

These brooms are not mere mundane objects; they are extensions of the warlock's own magical being. The synergy between the warlock and their broom is an intimate bond forged through years of practice and dedication. It allows them to travel quickly and efficiently, defying the constraints of gravity and distance. Whether it be for personal transportation or engaging in aerial combat, the warlock and their magical broom are a formidable force to be reckoned with. But riding a magical broom is not without its challenges. It requires a keen sense of balance, concentration, and control. Without proper focus, the broom may become unruly, threatening to throw the warlock off its back. Mastery over this art takes time and persistence, as the warlock must harmonize their own magical prowess with the broom's capabilities. In the heat of battle, the warlock's broom becomes a weapon in its own right. With swift maneuvers and aerial acrobatics, they can elude enemies and strike with precision. The broom's enchantments empower the warlock, allowing them to cast spells while maintaining superior mobility. It gives them a vantage point from which to survey the battlefield, strategizing and unleashing devastating attacks. Beyond its practical applications, the warlock's magical broom holds a certain mystique. It symbolizes their connection to the arcane arts, an emblem of their unique abilities and knowledge. In the eyes of common folk, a warlock mounted on a broomstick is a sight to behold, evoking a sense of wonder and awe. In conclusion, a warlock on a magical broom combines the ancient arts of sorcery and flight. Through spells and rituals, they imbue brooms with magical energies, granting them the ability to levitate and glide. This bond between warlock and broom allows for swift and agile travel, as well as a powerful weapon in battle. The warlock's broom is not just a means of transportation, but a symbol of their connection to the arcane and a source of inspiration for those who witness their mystical flights through the skies..

Reviews for "From Apprentice to Master: The Evolution of the Warlock and Their Broom"

1. Ashley - 2 stars - Warlock on a magical broom failed to capture my attention despite its promising premise. The writing felt disjointed and rushed, with underdeveloped characters and a confusing plot. The dialogue was often unrealistic and forced, making it difficult for me to connect with any of the characters. Additionally, the world-building was lacking, leaving me with more questions than answers. Overall, I found the book to be disappointing and struggled to finish it.

2. David - 1 star - I can't believe this book has received positive reviews! Warlock on a magical broom was a complete mess from start to finish. The writing was incredibly amateurish, filled with grammatical errors and awkward phrasing. The characters were one-dimensional and lacked depth, making it impossible to care about their fate. The plot was predictable and lacked any originality or surprises. I found myself skimming through pages just to get to the end and put myself out of my misery. I would not recommend this book to anyone.

3. Sarah - 2 stars - Warlock on a magical broom had so much potential, but it fell completely flat. The pacing was off, with certain scenes dragging on while others were rushed. The author missed the mark on creating a believable magic system, and the use of clichés was overwhelming. The dialogue was cheesy and cringe-worthy, making it difficult for me to take the story seriously. I was disappointed by the lack of character development and the underwhelming climax. Overall, I found this book to be a letdown and not worth the time or money.

Traversing Through Time and Space: The Warlock's Broomstick