1935 – “Mental Telepathy” Robot – Enrico Garcia (Spanish/British)


Two girls inspecting the robot today. c1935.


Mr. ENRICO GARCIA showing the "works" of the new ROBOT, which answers questions without codes.

A ROBOT WITH BRAINS OF ITS OWN. 14 Years to perfect new invention.
The "mental telepathy" ROBOT, on which Mr. ENRICO GARCIA has spent pounds700 and 14 years untiring effort to perfect, was today February 4th demonstrated in a London Cinema.

See other early Humanoid Robots here.

1962 – Szegedi Robot Man – Dr. Muszka Dániel (Hungarian)


1962 – Szegedi Robot Man [reproduction] by Dr. Muszka Dániel.


Fotó: Bodajki Ákos

Article source: here. (Google translation from Hungarian.)

Human-sized robot arrived at the Paks Nuclear Energy Museum. The heroic age of cybernetics – or life was the latest piece of the temporary exhibition called PC before the tin man in Szeged at which the invention is called the Ladybug is an emblematic figure of the era of domestic cybernetics. The machine was originally a human-sized house in Szeged welcomed the pioneering forefront of visitors, passers photocell detects the proceedings. When there is a plate in his left hand was the answer to the questions that have been selected in a separate instrument table, for example, specific directions about where to find the principal's office. Today the board of twelve topics, the robot talks the visit planned in 1962 by Daniel Muszka, all of which are related to cybernetics. The special exhibits on his right hand holding a radio, which formerly Kossuth and Petofi Radio broadcasts could choose from. The robot moves a head Wartburg windscreen wiper motor with rotating antenna's eyes light up as well.

Embernagyságú robot érkezett a paksi atomerőmű Atomenergetikai Múzeumába. A kibernetika hőskora – avagy volt élet a PC előtt elnevezésű időszaki tárlat legújabb darabja a szegedi bádogember, amely a Katicabogár elnevezésű találmány mellett a hazai kibernetika korszakának egyik emblematikus figurája. Az embernagyságú gép eredetileg a szegedi úttörőház előterében köszöntötte a látogatókat, az előtte elhaladókat fotocellájával érzékeli. Bal kezében található tábláján egykor azokra a kérdésekre adta meg a választ, amelyeket egy külön műszerasztalon lehetett kiválasztani, például útbaigazítást adott arról, hol található az igazgatói iroda. Ma a táblán tizenkét témakörről beszél a Muszka Dániel által 1962-ben tervezett robot, ezek mindegyike a kibernetikával kapcsolatos. A különleges kiállítási darab jobb kezében egy rádiót tart, ebből hajdan a Kossuth és a Petőfi Rádió adásai közül lehetett választani. A robot fejét egy Wartburg ablaktörlő-motorja mozgatja, forgó antennája mellett szemei is világítanak.


See also Daniel Muszka's cybernetic Ladybird Beetle here.

See other early Humanoid Robots here.

1945 – Radio Jockey – Gernsback / Leslie (American)


Caption: This electronic Robot might have prevented the horse-racing ban, but it would cause technological unemployment among the jockey fraternity.

Source: Radio-Craft for March, 1945.
RADIO JOCKEY – Electronically-Controlled Robot Rider By ERIC LESLIE
HORSE-RACING—the game of kings—has one great weakness. The suspicion of "fixed" races, of "pulled" horses and of dishonest jockeys, has prevented this sport from taking its place with such American national institutions as baseball or football. Even where track officials make every effort to keep their races "clean," an unsavory aura still attaches to the practice of racing horses.
A freak race in the early days of radio broadcasting gave rise to suggestions for a type of horse-race in which the jockey would be eliminated. The event referred to took place at the Cook County Fair, Chicago, in 1922. A horse—appropriately named Radio—raced with no jockey other than a radio receiving set and a horn loudspeaker on his back. His jockey, or more properly trainer, remained in the stands at the microphone of a small transmitter, giving directions and shouting encouragement. According to reports, as the horse came into the home stretch the trainer shouted, "Come on, Radio! Come on, boy !" and the horse responded nobly, just as if the trainer had been sitting on his back and was urging him on toward the finish line.
Spectacular as the stunt was at that stage of the development of radio, it proved only that the speaker was no substitute for a jockey, who not only with voice, but with hand and heel, urges his mount on to victory.

Some years ago [CZ: prior to 1945], H. Gernsback proposed a device which uses equipment and methods not available in 1922 to supply all these. The loud-speaker works as in the older setup, the reins and crop are controlled front transmitters in the stands, at which the trainers can sit comfortably while watching the progress of their "mounts" at any part of the track. The "jockey" would consist of a modern radio receiver, with outputs fitted both to a speaker and to relays which would set into action motors which control the arms to which the reins are attached, or operate the crop. Additional motors can be provided—or attachments made to those used-which would permit changing the posture of the "jockey", causing it to lean further forward or rise upright, to sway to the left or the right, as may be required during the race. It is well-known that a jockey uses his body as well as his voice and the reins in guiding his horse.
Should there be any suggestion of "pulling" or other unfair action, it would not be necessary to depend on the opposed statements of a pair of jockeys, neither of whom might have been in the best condition—either physically or emotionally—to note actually what had happened during the portion of a second in which many of these incidents occur. A complete record of all the jockey's actions can be kept on a tape which would form a part of the transmitting apparatus, so that there could be no dispute as to how any incident had occurred or how much restraint was applied to a horse at any given period during a race.
Old-time sports may believe that such a system would take the "kick" out of racing, but they do flock to the dog-races to watch the electric rabbit !


Caption: "Jockeys" who are electronic experts, and have to watch their fingers instead of their weight may help to make this proposed Radio Robot a reality.

Gernsback resurrects the idea in his annual publication "Forecast" (distributed late 1961).

Source: The Deseret News, 27 Dec 1961.
If Robots Replace Jockeys What Happens to Racing? Forecast Of Future Finds 'Robots' Replacing Jockeys….

INEZ ROBB The holiday season always brings to my door a pair of publications that brighten life considerably. The first is the Farmers' Almanac, without which I would never know quite when to put on my long underwear, plant potatoes, or mothproof the woolen closet……………  

The second publication to spread knowledge and happiness through the household is the annual "Forecast" of Hugo Gernsback, widely acclaimed as "the father of science fiction" and the editor and publisher of Radio-Electronics Magazine. Gernsback is a man on rapport with the future, to say the least. And while I am overjoyed to know that if I can live until 1986, the threat of atomic, hydrogen, cobalt or any other missile is kaput (the submarine demises two years earlier), nonetheless, the most sensational prediction in "1962 Forecast" is of concern to The Society for Improvement of the Breed of Bookies. Sometimes in the future – Gernsback doesn't pinpoint the date electronics will replace the jockey. Or rather the jockey won't be up. The future Sande or Hartack or Arcaro will be in a remote control tower that can do anything the jockey does, including whipping." Instead of saddle and rider, the horse will carry a power pack weighing 35 to 50 pounds that will be capable of "reining" any future Native Dancer.

Presumably the power packs will be painted in the colors or the respective stables of owners, although this is a fanciful thought of my own that I hand on to Gernsback. From his control tower the jockey will be able to sweet-talk; his horse home, since the steed will be wired for sound.

Gernsback believes his system, already feasible in his opinion, will make "for faster and more scientific races."
There are only two problems here: (1) Can you "fix a power pack? (2) Will the future jockey, manipulating in his control tower a panel that looks as complicated as that of a jet plane, have to show a degree from M.l.T. or Cal Tech? Since I am not a horse player, I don't know whether Gernsback's prediction will kill or cure racing. But there it is, for tote board and bookie alike to ponder. ……………

The_Post_Standard_Sun__May_13__1962_ electronic-jockey-x640

Arthur Radebaugh's interpretation of Gernsback's Electronic Jockey. 1962.

Camel Jockey

A robot jockey is commonly used on camels in camel racing as a replacement for human jockeys. Developed since 2004, the robotic jockeys are slowly phasing out the use of human jockeys, which in the case of camel racing in Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, United Arab Emirates, and Qatar, often employs small children who reportedly suffer repeated systemic human rights abuses. In response to international condemnation of such abuses, the nations of Qatar and the UAE have banned the use of human jockeys in favor of robots. See more in Wikipedia here.





Patent info.

See also Syd Mead's Racimals here.

See the timeline on other Animal Control here.

1820 – Prosopographus, the Automaton Artist – Charles Hervé



Selected extract from the full post by Patrick Feaster here.

Between 1820 and 1835, a machine was exhibited around Great Britain that was advertised as taking people’s portraits by strictly automatic means.  Someone had only to pay a shilling and sit perfectly still next to it for the space of a minute to obtain a likeness alleged to be more accurate than anything a living artist could have drawn.  The machine relied on principles very different from those of photography, first introduced to the world via the daguerreotype in 1839, and its portraits didn’t anticipate the photographic portraits of later years in any technical sense.  However, they did anticipate them quite closely in a cultural sense.  As far as subjects were concerned, they might have gone to get their pictures taken by this machine in 1825, and again by a photographic camera in 1845, without perceiving any fundamental difference between the two experiences.  In both cases, they would have been told that their likenesses were being captured automatically, without the mediation of a human observer, although they might still have paid extra for someone to touch up the results afterwards or add color to them.  The earlier machine went by the name of “Prosopographus, the Automaton Artist,” and it produced silhouettes—thousands upon thousands of them, if reports from the time are to be believed.  I was recently fortunate enough to acquire one, which is what prompted me to pull together the following account.


In appearance, Prosopographus was a miniature android figure dressed in fancy Spanish costume, shown above as illustrated on a period handbill.  I’ll refer to it here myself as “it,” but contemporaries generally anthropomorphized it as “him,” consistent with the grammatical gender of its Greco-Latinate name: Prosopo- (“face”) -graph- (“writer”) –us (second declension nominative masculine ending).  It held a pencil in its hand, and when someone sat down next to it, it would use this pencil—within full view of spectators—to trace an outline of the person’s profile.  The process was described variously as taking less than a minute, half a minute, or less than half a minute, but subjects had to hold perfectly still during that time: “The least movement on the part of the sitter will occasion the Automaton to shake his head, and the operation of taking the outline to be recommenced.  Advertisements emphasized that this work was carried out “without even touching the Face, and indeed “without touching, or having the slightest communication with the Person.  Daylight wasn’t necessary either, patrons were assured, so that likenesses could continue to be taken after sunset.  The proprietor never revealed the specific process used to capture people’s profiles, but it was claimed to be wholly mechanical, and hence superhuman in its accuracy.  Thus, Prosopographus was billed as “performing more perfect resemblances than is in the power of any living hand to trace,  and as “so contrived that by means of mechanism it is enabled to trace a more accurate and pleasing resemblance of any face that may be presented than could be produced through the agency of any LIVING artist whatever.

The basic portrait to which every visitor was entitled by default seems to have consisted of the profile painted in black, and some later advertisements specified that this included glass and a frame.  For a surcharge, however, the profiles could also be cut out, shaded, bronzed, or done up in full color, as well as mounted in a fancier frame, at prices up to thirty guineas if anyone cared to pay that much. The result, in any case, was something visually indistinguishable from a conventional silhouette portrait of the period.

And that complicates our present ability to identify surviving specimens of Prosopographus’s work.  According to Profiles of the Past, a website dedicated to the history of British silhouette portraiture, “very few silhouettes [by Prosopographus] are known today,” even though countless thousands are said to have been taken.  Technically, however, what’s rare is a silhouette that can be attributed to Prosopographus because it’s labeled that way on the back.  The few reported types of Prosopographus trade label are linked to just a few exhibition venues, so it may be that silhouettes taken in other places weren’t labeled, making them impossible to tell apart from “ordinary” silhouettes.  For all we know, nearly all unlabeled silhouettes of the 1820s and 1830s might be the work of Prosopographus, which would make them extremely common.  However, it’s only when there’s a label that we know for sure what we have.


The Prosopographus portrait I recently acquired is one of those with the Halifax trade label and promotional text on the back, augmented by a handwritten inscription identifying its subject as Ellen Waterhouse.  The silhouette itself is a likeness of the basic type that was thrown in free with the price of admission: the profile painted in black, with just a few embellishments added in the same color to represent hair and veil.

See the full post by Patrick Feaster here.

See other early Robots in Art and Drawing Machines here.

1978-80 – RCV-150 ROV – Arthur B. Billet (American)


1982 – RCV-150 Remote Controlled Vehicle System by Arthur B. Billet, principal engineer, Hydro Products, Inc., a Tetra Tech Co., wholly owned by Honeywell.




Image Source: here.


Technician checks out the RCV-150, Hydro Product's largest deep-diving robot vehicle, one of the increasing number of such remote-controlled devices that are rapidly replacing human divers for many underwater tasks. (MUST PHOTO CREDIT: Los Angeles Times Photo by Dave Gatley) Illustrates RCV, by Barbara Bry (Times), moved Monday, July 19. (c) 1982, Los Angeles Times.


The big brother of the RCV -225, the RCV-150 was developed as a highly maneuverable, light-work capable ROV. This vehicle, in addition to being a flying eyeball, has a four function manipulator capability including both a rotary saw, pinching blade and grabber jaw. The RCV-150 has recently been fitted with a second four function arm extending the work capabilities to much more extensive and complex tasks.




Figure 9 shows the manipulator assembly. The manipulator is a five-function work arm normally stowed inside the lower framework in the vehicle. A rotary actuator at a "shoulder" joint allows for stow and unstow motion of the arm. An actuator at the "wrist" allows grabber jaws to pivot in a 245-degree arc. The jaws are opened and closed by a linear piston actuator. A pinching blade, capable of cutting 3/4 inch polypropylene line, is actuated simultaneously with the jaws.


Source: Popular Science, Dec 1981.

See other early Underwater Robots here.