A Purely Poetic Actor
Southern Living, October 2000
Volume 35, Number 10
By Sharon Cavileer

When David Keltz dons his vest, cravat, and dark dress coat, he turns into Edgar Allan Poe, one of history's most famous-and infamous-authors.

Softer than the brush of a raven's wing, the spirit of Edgar Allan Poe still moves through the streets of Baltimore.

Buried beside his wife, Virginia, in the graveyard of Westminster for 150 years, the author has a greater presence now than when he wrote in the tiny house west of downtown.

That's because Poe's spirit again walks these streets in earthly form. Dressed in cravat, vest, and double-breasted dark coat, he's been seen at several of his old haunts, especially in his former home at 203 North Amity Street.

In the garret where the troubled author penned many a tale of terror, actor David Keltz clears his throat and introduces himself: "Welcome to my modest home. I'm Edgar Poe. Many of you may find it difficult to believe that I am here today. And yet, as I once wrote, 'the boundaries which divide death from life are vague and shadowy at best.'"

David, a Baltimore resident who has been portraying Poe for almost a decade, was enchanted in junior high school with "The Tell-Tale Heart." Now, he can perform more than three hours of the author's works from memory.

In a quiet voice, the 56-year-old actor begins by reciting the hauntingly melodic "Annabel Lee."

"The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me…"

The audience, lulled by the hypnotic beauty of the poem, is taken aback as David offers his rendering of "The Tell-Tale Heart." As the tale tumbles out, David's face contorts with a murderous rage. His blue eyes widen, spots of red appear on each cheek, his mustache moves over twisted lips.

"Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror!"

Like a man possessed, David shows the story's character falling faster and faster from fear and loathing into mania, murder, and madness until he confesses his crime, hands tightening around an imaginary throat. The audience is transfixed, immobile with terror.

David has been honored by both Maryland's Senate and Governor for his Poe portrayals. In more than 200 performances a year, he resurrects the author's spirit for thousands of schoolchildren, literature lovers, Poe aficionados, and audiences at The Smithsonian Institution and the National Theatre. He's played Poe on National Public Radio and in a variety of commercials for products ranging from the Baltimore Ravens football team to Raven Beer. He's been seen haunting Baltimore's streets in scenes from the television series Homicide: Life on the Street. And last year, David traveled to Prague in the Czech Republic to appear at the International Poe Festival.

Although he portrays one of the most troubled psyches in literature, there's little of Poe to be found in the real David. "Poe was a literary genius," he says. "But literature is not my field, acting is. And I am a much happier person than he was. Poe's life was hard. Raised to be a gentleman, he was estranged from his foster father, John Allan, and went from privilege to poverty. Then he lost the love of his life, his wife, Virginia, and lapsed into a deep depression."

Baltimore proved both fruitful and fateful ground for the original Poe. Traveling from Richmond to New York in 1849, he collapsed in a final delirium outside the Gunner's Hall Tavern on Lombard Street. A few days later, while hospitalized at Washington Medical College, Poe breathed his last words, "Lord, help my poor soul."

Today, a raven-carved headstone marks his grave. Just a few blocks away, the Baltimore Ravens, the only professional sports team named for a literary figure, play in a new stadium.

Many Poe pilgrims make their way nine blocks from the grave to the house on Amity Street-once the outskirts of town. It was here that Poe began writing his short stories. In 1833, he won a $50 award for "MS. Found in a Bottle." A dozen or so more stories were penned during his stay in Baltimore. It's considered one of the most productive times in the life of the artist who today is accepted as the creator of the modern horror story and detective story and as the father of literary criticism.

As David walks the same streets portraying Poe, he says he often feels the author's presence. "I look for the atmosphere in places like the Poe House and grave. To be on the streets where he walked, I get a strong feeling and inspiration."

Poe House and Museum curator Jeff Jerome agrees. "I believe the spirit of Poe is in this house, and I don't mean a ghost wandering the rooms and stairways. I'm talking about the essence of Poe," he says. "I think Vincent Price described it best when he visited. He took me by the arm and said, 'This place gives me the creeps.'"

In addition to inspiration, David also uses ingenuity for his one-man performances. His costume-accurate down to the cloth-covered buttons-was constructed after painstaking examination of old daguerreotypes of Poe. When a magnifying glass failed to yield enough detail, the portraits were digitally enhanced. "Day in and day out, I'm doing research, reading through old newspapers and magazines of the time," he explains. "I feel what the character would be feeling, and at the best of times, it's more than intense.

"Because, when I go onstage, I have to feel that I really am Poe."