I have heard far too many mentalists* brush off the use of disclaimers** with a statement like this:
"What if an actor came onscreen at the beginning of the movie and told you that he was just an actor and wasn't really the character he played, and the whole thing you were about to watch was just a story. Wouldn't that hurt your enjoyment of the movie?"
I've heard/read that statement or similar from people too numerous to mention. You'd think that an avocation as seemingly creative as mentalism would come up with different agruments (it's like all of the creative geniuses who use "out of the box" to describe creative thinking). However, my bigger argument with this is that it doesn't hold. The analogy just isn't there. Why not? Let's explore.
Who goes to movies? Most everyone. Who knows about movies? The number increases. There are magazines and websites devoted to movies, and to the various components thereof (actors, special effects, etc). A good chunk of these magazines and websites cater to the general populace. Actors are interviewed on tv and in print. (Which would, in a sense, be a version of a disclaimer: "See? I'm not really Iron Man.") In short, there is a cultural understanding about the nature of movies and how they work.
Now let's take mentalism. ("Take my mentalist, please!") Who goes to see a mentalism show? A small number of people. Who goes to see a GOOD mentalism show? That number shrinks. Considerably. And while there are websites and publications that deal with the intricacies of mentalism, the vast majority don't cater to the general public. In fact, the average person on the street is much more likely to have heard/heard of/seen Jonathan Edward, Sylvia Browne or Allison DuBois than Max Maven, Banachek or
Derren Brown. This means that the cultural expectation for those who deal in psychic phenomenon is that one is either
a. real, or
b. a big old slimy fraud
depending on one's perceptions of the aforementioned Edward, Browne, and DuBoise.
While I agree that it may be bad theater to tip your hand prior to the show, I think many take it too far. To extend the analogy, it doesn't lessen my enjoyment of the Indiana Jones movies to see an interview with Harrison Ford, where he tells us that in his next film he will play a completely different character.
I know there are people who are going to believe no matter what. After one of my own shows I had a lady call me and ask if I could tell her where her missing opera tickets were. But guess what. Even with the cultural knowledge regarding movies, there are some people who believe them. Watch the documentary "Trekkies" to see some examples. Or check out the number of people who have listed "Jedi" as their religious affiliation. Just because I think some people are deluded doesn't mean I have to feed the delusion.
I know I won't convince many to change their tune here, just as their "argument" doesn't convince me. If anything, though, I'd like them to take a look at that hoary "but what if an actor..." analogy that so many use and see it for the straw man it really is.
_____________________________________________________
* For the uninitiated: a "mentalist" is an entertainer who specializes in the theatrical pretense of psychic abilities.
** A "disclaimer" is an acknowledgement that one is indeed not a real psychic.
Showing posts with label magic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label magic. Show all posts
Friday, May 23, 2008
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Saturday in the...
It was a brisk, clear spring morning. Despite the cooperative weather I was filled with trepidation. (It's not as messy as it sounds.) For the first time in ages, I was about to enter
Was I ready? Could I handle it? And did I have my towel?
The lecture was scheduled for 2:30. I was due to meet a friend at 1:45 to carpool. Despite my best intentions I made it on time.
On the drive to the lecture we discussed trivial things: the excess of clover this year, the political race, the possible threat of nuclear war. I think I hid my blind panic well. Besides, he can replace the upholstery in his car, right?
Rick Maue and David London were on the bill that day. I had corresponded with Mr. Maue some years ago so I knew he was a fan of one of my favorite musical artists. I happened to have some memorabilia of said artist, and I gave a piece from my collection to Mr. Maue. (Pronounced "maw" for the uninitiated. If you're initiated, feel free to pronounce it any way you wish.) He seemed to appreciate it.
There were only five attendees at the lecture. There were two reasons for that:
1. a previously scheduled event
2. not enough advance publicity
More on the sparse attendance later.
Mr. London opened the proceedings. He started by saying he rarely did card effects, so naturally he opened with cards. The effect was clean, clear and a stunner. It was in the "twisting the aces" genre but with a couple of kickers. He was on for far too short a time. I liked the effects and bits he taught, but far more than that, I really appreciated the way in which he explained the development of each piece and of his character. He also talked about his act as an organic whole, which was a shock as far as lectures are concerned.
We ("we" being the aforementioned five) asked periodic quesions, and Mr. London would provide detailed answers. He said that even though we were the smallest group yet, we were the most engaged group they had yet seen.
Mr. London only had about 30 minutes (as I said, far too short), then Mr. Maue took the stage. And by "took the stage" I mean commanded the stage. Another thing I appreciated about both gentlemen is that they gave their all despite the meager turnout. Mr. Maue obviously thinks about all facets of his magic - both as a performer and as a teacher - and he is remarkable in both capacities.
I'm really hesitant to describe any of the effects he performed and explained because I don't want to spoil the surprise should any magicians be reading this and get an opportunity to see him. Trust me, he'll fool you. Let me just say this; at one point, after performing one effect and just prior to teaching it, I turned to David London and said in all sincerity, "I don't want to know how it's done." I was sorely tempted to walk out of the room. He had just toasted my brain and that's a feeling to treasure.
After the lecture we all went out to dinner, and had even more of a grand time. It turns out that Mr. Maue and I have very similar musical tastes. (And yes, Rick, I have This Old Road. It's every bit as wonderful as you said it would be. I especially like "Pilgrim's Progress" and "Final Attraction." Have you picked up Jackrabbit Slim yet?)
Both Mr. London and Mr. Maue kept stating that despite the small turnout they were really pleased with the lecture because we were such an engaged, focused audience. It could be that they say that at every lecture stop, but hey, it was nice to hear.
To recap, it was a terrific way to spend a Saturday afternoon. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to run off and read some lecture notes.
THE MAGIC ZONE
Was I ready? Could I handle it? And did I have my towel?
The lecture was scheduled for 2:30. I was due to meet a friend at 1:45 to carpool. Despite my best intentions I made it on time.
On the drive to the lecture we discussed trivial things: the excess of clover this year, the political race, the possible threat of nuclear war. I think I hid my blind panic well. Besides, he can replace the upholstery in his car, right?
Rick Maue and David London were on the bill that day. I had corresponded with Mr. Maue some years ago so I knew he was a fan of one of my favorite musical artists. I happened to have some memorabilia of said artist, and I gave a piece from my collection to Mr. Maue. (Pronounced "maw" for the uninitiated. If you're initiated, feel free to pronounce it any way you wish.) He seemed to appreciate it.
There were only five attendees at the lecture. There were two reasons for that:
1. a previously scheduled event
2. not enough advance publicity
More on the sparse attendance later.
Mr. London opened the proceedings. He started by saying he rarely did card effects, so naturally he opened with cards. The effect was clean, clear and a stunner. It was in the "twisting the aces" genre but with a couple of kickers. He was on for far too short a time. I liked the effects and bits he taught, but far more than that, I really appreciated the way in which he explained the development of each piece and of his character. He also talked about his act as an organic whole, which was a shock as far as lectures are concerned.
We ("we" being the aforementioned five) asked periodic quesions, and Mr. London would provide detailed answers. He said that even though we were the smallest group yet, we were the most engaged group they had yet seen.
Mr. London only had about 30 minutes (as I said, far too short), then Mr. Maue took the stage. And by "took the stage" I mean commanded the stage. Another thing I appreciated about both gentlemen is that they gave their all despite the meager turnout. Mr. Maue obviously thinks about all facets of his magic - both as a performer and as a teacher - and he is remarkable in both capacities.
I'm really hesitant to describe any of the effects he performed and explained because I don't want to spoil the surprise should any magicians be reading this and get an opportunity to see him. Trust me, he'll fool you. Let me just say this; at one point, after performing one effect and just prior to teaching it, I turned to David London and said in all sincerity, "I don't want to know how it's done." I was sorely tempted to walk out of the room. He had just toasted my brain and that's a feeling to treasure.
After the lecture we all went out to dinner, and had even more of a grand time. It turns out that Mr. Maue and I have very similar musical tastes. (And yes, Rick, I have This Old Road. It's every bit as wonderful as you said it would be. I especially like "Pilgrim's Progress" and "Final Attraction." Have you picked up Jackrabbit Slim yet?)
Both Mr. London and Mr. Maue kept stating that despite the small turnout they were really pleased with the lecture because we were such an engaged, focused audience. It could be that they say that at every lecture stop, but hey, it was nice to hear.
To recap, it was a terrific way to spend a Saturday afternoon. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to run off and read some lecture notes.
Monday, May 21, 2007
augeries, with a small "a"
I don't particularly believe in soothsaying, which isn't to say I don't find it useful.* That doesn't mean I don't have my own little divinatory quirks. I place more import than I should on coincidental incidents in my life. (I really struggled on how to word that last sentence. I'm still not satisfied.)
Let me give an example. I've been pulling away from magic lately, debating whether to give it up. I'd sort of done so anyway, but not made a firm decision. Well, recently I accidentally left my color-changing knife in my pocket when I threw it in the laundry hamper. Oddly enough, Mogar color-changing knives are ruined if you run them through a washing machine.
What does the second paragraph have to do with the first? The color-changing knives is one of the (few) effects I do with any sort of panache. I m taking that as a sign that I really do need to give this whole mess up. I've already given away a number of my books, and now one of the few effects I do with even a modicum of skill is kaput. So, a sign. Augery by washing machine. I think I'll be finding a new hobby. Maybe I'll be good at the next one.
___________________________________
*Here is how soothsaying (astrology, palmistry, phrenology, even furtune cookies) can be useful: if the content of the message is sufficiently vague as to allow for interpretation, it allows you to gain insight into what and how you think. If you're not sure how you feel about a subject or a situation, consult the I-Ching. Read the results and interpret them how you will. Now you know a bit more about how you feel. Oh, and you don't have to throw coins or cast yarrow sticks or whatever. Just open your favorite version of the I-Ching to a random page, or have a random number generator (such as from random.org) give a number from 1 to 64 - although that leaves out the "changing hexagram." Oh well. Win some, lose some.
Let me give an example. I've been pulling away from magic lately, debating whether to give it up. I'd sort of done so anyway, but not made a firm decision. Well, recently I accidentally left my color-changing knife in my pocket when I threw it in the laundry hamper. Oddly enough, Mogar color-changing knives are ruined if you run them through a washing machine.
What does the second paragraph have to do with the first? The color-changing knives is one of the (few) effects I do with any sort of panache. I m taking that as a sign that I really do need to give this whole mess up. I've already given away a number of my books, and now one of the few effects I do with even a modicum of skill is kaput. So, a sign. Augery by washing machine. I think I'll be finding a new hobby. Maybe I'll be good at the next one.
___________________________________
*Here is how soothsaying (astrology, palmistry, phrenology, even furtune cookies) can be useful: if the content of the message is sufficiently vague as to allow for interpretation, it allows you to gain insight into what and how you think. If you're not sure how you feel about a subject or a situation, consult the I-Ching. Read the results and interpret them how you will. Now you know a bit more about how you feel. Oh, and you don't have to throw coins or cast yarrow sticks or whatever. Just open your favorite version of the I-Ching to a random page, or have a random number generator (such as from random.org) give a number from 1 to 64 - although that leaves out the "changing hexagram." Oh well. Win some, lose some.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Finding my voice
I was driving home yesterday listening to a Steve Forbert CD. "Romeo's Tune" (a song I love and that he dedicated to the memory of Florence Ballard, late of The Supremes) came on. I started singing with it. I do a pretty dead-on imitation of Mr. Forbert on that particular song. A friend once commented on how eerily I capture his sound.
Similarly, I do a pretty decent imitation of Elton John on "Candle in the Wind" - the one from the Live in Australia album, not the one from Goodbye Yellow Brick Road; I find the former has more emotion than the latter.
Even if a song is not in my key or my range I can transpose and still sound at least a little like the artist. For example, I tend to sing harmony rather than lead on early Beach Boys songs.
When do I sound the worst? When I'm singing 'cold,' without a recorded reference. In other words, I can sing like other people, but I can't really sing like me.
I think this is because I learned to sing from the radio and from records. My goal was to sound like the artists I was hearing. If I were serious about learning to sing I'd hire a teacher, learn to read music, and learn to sing like me.
Similarly, I do a pretty decent imitation of Elton John on "Candle in the Wind" - the one from the Live in Australia album, not the one from Goodbye Yellow Brick Road; I find the former has more emotion than the latter.
Even if a song is not in my key or my range I can transpose and still sound at least a little like the artist. For example, I tend to sing harmony rather than lead on early Beach Boys songs.
When do I sound the worst? When I'm singing 'cold,' without a recorded reference. In other words, I can sing like other people, but I can't really sing like me.
I think this is because I learned to sing from the radio and from records. My goal was to sound like the artists I was hearing. If I were serious about learning to sing I'd hire a teacher, learn to read music, and learn to sing like me.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Le Tourniquet
A MySpace magician wannabe posted a message in a magic group dissing the French Drop. I kinda liked my reply. So without further ado (and who needs more ado?) here is his unedited post and my unedited reply:
I don't think our would-be conjurer had seen such examples of management before. He thanked me profusely and, in an email, asked for more advice.
There may yet be hope.
seems lame to me. if you just cup it behind your fingers like that people will
instantly think you just left it in ur hand, how do i go about switchin hands to
make it look like the coins totally vanished? should i use a quarter or half
dollar to practice with? vansihing is way fun.
I then followed up with another post:***************************************
Like most sleights, getting away with the French Drop is as much a matter of attitude and audience management as it is technique. It isn't just a matter of, "hold the coin in the left hand, take it with the right hand, make a magical gesture, show it gone." You have to manage the moments before, during and after the sleight.
There are several things you can do, depending on what you're going to do following the vanish. One of the things I do if I'm using it as a one-off trick (a rarity - there are stronger single tricks) is to extend the hand that supposedly contains the coin and ask the spectator to tap it. I stand fairly close to them as I ask them to do this. They are forced to look at my hand as they tap it.
In the meantime, my other hand has already naturally dropped to my side,coin in fingertip rest position, arm and shoulder relaxed. (Tension in the hand/arm that really holds the coin is a dead giveaway.) As they reach to tap my hand that supposedly holds the coin, I ditch the coin in my pocket with as little motion as possible.
I then reveal the vanish.***********************
Oh, and the management continues...I forgot to mention that before revealing the
vanish, the hand that just ditched the coin moves away from the pocket - I make
a gesture or pick something up - depends on the choreography. If you stay near
your pocket it puts heat on the pocket.
I don't think our would-be conjurer had seen such examples of management before. He thanked me profusely and, in an email, asked for more advice.
There may yet be hope.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
That's Ammar, hey
I went to a lecture by well-known (and sometimes reviled) magician/author/lecturer Michael Ammar last night. Michael and I have met before. I turned him on to Warren Zevon (not everyone would consider that a good thing). Michael, however, is now a fan, and even sang a bit of one of my favorite songs.
I gave Mr. Ammar the last CD Mr. Zevon recorded before he died. He seemed pleased. (Mr. Ammar, that is, not Mr. Zevon. I'm not sure of Mr. Zevon's feelings about the whole transaction.) Mr. Ammar gave me an evening of wonderful magic and pleasant company. Oh, and one of his instructional DVDs.
He also gave me the notion that not all magicians are twits when they are in the company of other magicians. Present company excluded.
My only regret? Hannah was unable to accompany Michael this trip.
Hey, it's just that we're friends. The fact that she's drop-dead gorgeous is completely irrelevant, and I didn't notice anyway. Neener.
I gave Mr. Ammar the last CD Mr. Zevon recorded before he died. He seemed pleased. (Mr. Ammar, that is, not Mr. Zevon. I'm not sure of Mr. Zevon's feelings about the whole transaction.) Mr. Ammar gave me an evening of wonderful magic and pleasant company. Oh, and one of his instructional DVDs.
He also gave me the notion that not all magicians are twits when they are in the company of other magicians. Present company excluded.
My only regret? Hannah was unable to accompany Michael this trip.
Hey, it's just that we're friends. The fact that she's drop-dead gorgeous is completely irrelevant, and I didn't notice anyway. Neener.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Monty Python notwithstanding...
...I hate spam. Let me say it again:
I. Hate. Spam.
So when I received an unsolicited advertisement from James George I was a little miffed.
(For the uninitiated, James George is the inventor of the ITR, mini ITR, micro ITR, ITR in pen, ITR in briefcase, ITR in ham sandwich, ITR in small mammal, ITR in rectal cavity, ITR in...Well, you get the picture. He's a veritable font of creativity - if it involves an ITR.)
I emailed him expressing my displeasure that I had received an unsolicited ad (because, remember, I. Hate. Spam.). I also noted that, because he spammed me I would not buy anything from his company or anything produced by him.
He responded thusly:
Consider myself black balled? First of all it's one word - "blackballed", second, hardly a threat since I had already "black balled" myself from his site and his products. Thirdly, and he knows this as well as I do, nobody signed me up. He harvested my email address from some magic web site and doesn't want to 'fess up to it.
Oh, and the first email wasn't enough so he sent a "P.S.:"
Had he not added that little bon mot I would have let the whole thing go. But hey, "Get a life?" I'm betting his magic performances are as original as his insults. In any event I emailed him congratulating him on his continued good PR and explained that I would be sharing it with my magical friends. His response (and yes, he continues to respond, Lord knows why):
I continue my relatively polite responses (I've signed off every one with "Have a nice day"), this time only thanking him for his continued responses and urging him to continue to do so.
His response:
I tried to respond with this:
He's blocked my address. Finally. First sensible thing he's done in this whole exchange.
Damn spammers.
I. Hate. Spam.
So when I received an unsolicited advertisement from James George I was a little miffed.
(For the uninitiated, James George is the inventor of the ITR, mini ITR, micro ITR, ITR in pen, ITR in briefcase, ITR in ham sandwich, ITR in small mammal, ITR in rectal cavity, ITR in...Well, you get the picture. He's a veritable font of creativity - if it involves an ITR.)
I emailed him expressing my displeasure that I had received an unsolicited ad (because, remember, I. Hate. Spam.). I also noted that, because he spammed me I would not buy anything from his company or anything produced by him.
He responded thusly:
Well I didn't sign you up!
But suit yourself, we will note your name and never allow you to buy products from our site.
We are the company that invented the Invisible Thread Reel. Just so you know, many of our new inventions are exclusive to us and not available anywhere else.
Consider yourself black balled from our site.
Kind
Regards,
James George
CEO Sorcery
manufacturing
P.s. Add yourself to our Newsletter at MyITR.Com right now, and receive a FREE E-book on Invisible Thread and the ITR. This includes ten fantastic effects that are professional quality, these are routines that you will use, no pipe dreams. One of them, you make a borrowed ring float through the air and into a spectator's hand and you walk away clean.
Consider myself black balled? First of all it's one word - "blackballed", second, hardly a threat since I had already "black balled" myself from his site and his products. Thirdly, and he knows this as well as I do, nobody signed me up. He harvested my email address from some magic web site and doesn't want to 'fess up to it.
Oh, and the first email wasn't enough so he sent a "P.S.:"
Oh and
Get a Life!
Had he not added that little bon mot I would have let the whole thing go. But hey, "Get a life?" I'm betting his magic performances are as original as his insults. In any event I emailed him congratulating him on his continued good PR and explained that I would be sharing it with my magical friends. His response (and yes, he continues to respond, Lord knows why):
Like I said,Notice that (A) He repeats the dubious claim that someone signed me up for his site, and (B) He actually understands that being signed up for his site is a punishment.
Bug off and get a life.
I am sure someone who was pissed off at you signed you up. I can see why they would do this, you are both petty and boring.
I continue my relatively polite responses (I've signed off every one with "Have a nice day"), this time only thanking him for his continued responses and urging him to continue to do so.
His response:
Yawn...ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I tried to respond with this:
But it was rejected becauseYou haven't figured it out yet, so I'll spell it out, using small words so you'll understand: I have only responded to emails you send. If you don't send one, I don't respond. Hasn't happened yet, won't happen. You're the spammer here, I'm just responding. If this is boring you, then quit, spammer.
Have a nice day.
User unknown
He's blocked my address. Finally. First sensible thing he's done in this whole exchange.
Damn spammers.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Max and Minch and Protocols - oh my!
The cat's out of the bag regarding the contents of Max Maven's book The Protocols of the Elders of Magic (a title I still find a wee distasteful).
Bloggers everywhere (not here) have revealed it, and Jamy Ian Swiss spilled the beans in his review in the December issue of Genii.
I still have to wonder: Would the book have sold out - especially prior to release - if people knew what they were buying?
Bloggers everywhere (not here) have revealed it, and Jamy Ian Swiss spilled the beans in his review in the December issue of Genii.
I still have to wonder: Would the book have sold out - especially prior to release - if people knew what they were buying?
Monday, November 28, 2005
Well, it sounded good in theory...
Magic theory. Not an exact science. Yet get a few (serious) magicians together and they'll hash and rehash the reasons behind the success or failure of various ventures, deconstruct endless routines, and spout bon mots from their favorite authors.
So where does theory meet practice? Do I discard theory altogether? Is Henning Nelms hopelessly out of date? Does Tommy Wonder's advice only work for him?
It comes down to this: magic is applied psychology. And psychology is neither a hard science nor an exact science. It's constantly being refined as we better understand ourselves and as the dynamics of human interactions change.
So it means that magic theory, like any theory, must be tested. If we really want to get our ducks in a row we ought to change our language. Things fairly well tested are theories. Relativity. Evolution (oops, going to catch some flak for that...). Spectators tend to focus on things that move rather than things that sit still, in the absence of other stimuli.
Those things not yet satisfactorily borne out by practice are postulates, not yet theories. Red cards are better than blue (or vice versa). One should never (or always) write one's own magic script. You shouldn't do card tricks for kids.
Why worry about magic theory at all? Because it can save a lot of time - otherwise each routine, each move, each line has to be developed in vacuo, with nothing to inform as to it's value other than empirical testing. That would be fun, wouldn't it - having to do market research on every facet of a routine before it became audience-ready? Also, understanding your personal theoretical underpinnings will help you develop as a magician. You'll know your foundation and will have that foundation to build against.
So where does theory meet practice? Do I discard theory altogether? Is Henning Nelms hopelessly out of date? Does Tommy Wonder's advice only work for him?
It comes down to this: magic is applied psychology. And psychology is neither a hard science nor an exact science. It's constantly being refined as we better understand ourselves and as the dynamics of human interactions change.
So it means that magic theory, like any theory, must be tested. If we really want to get our ducks in a row we ought to change our language. Things fairly well tested are theories. Relativity. Evolution (oops, going to catch some flak for that...). Spectators tend to focus on things that move rather than things that sit still, in the absence of other stimuli.
Those things not yet satisfactorily borne out by practice are postulates, not yet theories. Red cards are better than blue (or vice versa). One should never (or always) write one's own magic script. You shouldn't do card tricks for kids.
Why worry about magic theory at all? Because it can save a lot of time - otherwise each routine, each move, each line has to be developed in vacuo, with nothing to inform as to it's value other than empirical testing. That would be fun, wouldn't it - having to do market research on every facet of a routine before it became audience-ready? Also, understanding your personal theoretical underpinnings will help you develop as a magician. You'll know your foundation and will have that foundation to build against.
Monday, November 14, 2005
It was bad, but at least nobody watched
The latest Penn & Teller special (Off the Deep End) looked, from my point of view, to be a carbon copy of everything they've been railing against for years.
And to think I used to respect them.
The good news? They tanked (no pun intended) in the ratings.
And to think I used to respect them.
The good news? They tanked (no pun intended) in the ratings.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
So why do I keep coming back...
...if magic and magicians suck as hard as I say they do?
Good question.
A couple of reasons, I think. The first sounds a bit like a Zen koan. I was in bitch mode one time, threatening to quit the whole magic mess, when an acquaintance hit me with these words: "You can't quit. You didn't choose magic. It chose you." I haven't heard from that acquaintance for a number of years but I have pondered those words often since he spoke them to me a couple of decades ago.
The other reason can be summed up in a song lyric that I'll get to in a minute. There are dilettantes in magic, and dumb shits, and dickheads, but some of my closest friends and some of my finest hours have been due to magic and magicians - it's just easier sometimes, when life seems to be a little rougher than you'd wish, to write about the bad stuff. Oh, that lyric?
Those who know me will know the artist. Those who don't can use a good search engine (I recommend vivisimo). And if you think the lyric refers to you, it probably does.
Speaking of which, if you're interested in learning more about magic, you might go here.
Good question.
A couple of reasons, I think. The first sounds a bit like a Zen koan. I was in bitch mode one time, threatening to quit the whole magic mess, when an acquaintance hit me with these words: "You can't quit. You didn't choose magic. It chose you." I haven't heard from that acquaintance for a number of years but I have pondered those words often since he spoke them to me a couple of decades ago.
The other reason can be summed up in a song lyric that I'll get to in a minute. There are dilettantes in magic, and dumb shits, and dickheads, but some of my closest friends and some of my finest hours have been due to magic and magicians - it's just easier sometimes, when life seems to be a little rougher than you'd wish, to write about the bad stuff. Oh, that lyric?
The moon has a face
And it smiles on the lake
And causes the ripples in Time
I'm lucky to be here
With someone I like
Who maketh my spirit to shine
Those who know me will know the artist. Those who don't can use a good search engine (I recommend vivisimo). And if you think the lyric refers to you, it probably does.
Speaking of which, if you're interested in learning more about magic, you might go here.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Magic sucks
A secondhand story, but from two sources, both of whom I consider reliable:
The setting: The local magic club meeting
The cast: The club regulars, along with a couple of visitors
The plot: Secrets may be revealed to people who are (gasp!) not club members, sending some into a tizzy
The theme: magicians are idiots
So there were visitors at the local magic club this particular night. Not an issue, right? You'd think not, but we're not dealing with reasonable people here - we're dealing with magicians. Any intersection between magicians and common sense is purely coincidental, and if you're concerned, don't be. The union won't last long.
During one of the segments anyone who signed up was to perform, then teach, a trick. None of the tricks were earth-shattering. None were proprietary. In fact, all of the effects taught that night are available for free in books at my local library.
And the visitors...Were they just people who wandered in off the street? Were they hooligans who somehow crashed this exclusive magicians soiree? Nope, they were recent graduates of a magic camp who had been told about this 'wonderful' club by the proprietors of the camp.
I'm betting you're getting ahead of me at this point. Anyway, the time comes to teach these ever-so-valuable secrets and a hue and cry goes up: we must not allow the visitors to stay while we exhibit our superior knowledge! A debate ensues. After much haranguing and hair-pulling it is decided that perhaps, just this once, these neophytes can be allowed a peek behind the curtain.
Bah.
They had already demonstrated an interest in magic by graduating from the magic camp, and by seeking out the club. And the difference between those deemed worthy to learn these deep, dark secrets and those doomed to ignorance? Fifteen dollars. That's right. No test, no initiation, no apprenticeship. Hand me your check and we ain't got no problem.
There are those in magic who have a slavish devotion to keeping the secrets of magic, well, secret. Unfortunately they often do this blindly, never looking to see if what they are doing is causing a greater harm.
If I were among those visitors that night I would have grabbed my wallet, headed toward the door, and bid those creepy magicians a fond farewell, letting them keep their 'secrets' as I went off and learned magic.
Peace.
The setting: The local magic club meeting
The cast: The club regulars, along with a couple of visitors
The plot: Secrets may be revealed to people who are (gasp!) not club members, sending some into a tizzy
The theme: magicians are idiots
So there were visitors at the local magic club this particular night. Not an issue, right? You'd think not, but we're not dealing with reasonable people here - we're dealing with magicians. Any intersection between magicians and common sense is purely coincidental, and if you're concerned, don't be. The union won't last long.
During one of the segments anyone who signed up was to perform, then teach, a trick. None of the tricks were earth-shattering. None were proprietary. In fact, all of the effects taught that night are available for free in books at my local library.
And the visitors...Were they just people who wandered in off the street? Were they hooligans who somehow crashed this exclusive magicians soiree? Nope, they were recent graduates of a magic camp who had been told about this 'wonderful' club by the proprietors of the camp.
I'm betting you're getting ahead of me at this point. Anyway, the time comes to teach these ever-so-valuable secrets and a hue and cry goes up: we must not allow the visitors to stay while we exhibit our superior knowledge! A debate ensues. After much haranguing and hair-pulling it is decided that perhaps, just this once, these neophytes can be allowed a peek behind the curtain.
Bah.
They had already demonstrated an interest in magic by graduating from the magic camp, and by seeking out the club. And the difference between those deemed worthy to learn these deep, dark secrets and those doomed to ignorance? Fifteen dollars. That's right. No test, no initiation, no apprenticeship. Hand me your check and we ain't got no problem.
There are those in magic who have a slavish devotion to keeping the secrets of magic, well, secret. Unfortunately they often do this blindly, never looking to see if what they are doing is causing a greater harm.
If I were among those visitors that night I would have grabbed my wallet, headed toward the door, and bid those creepy magicians a fond farewell, letting them keep their 'secrets' as I went off and learned magic.
Peace.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
I never thought this tunnel would be so long
I'm on a couple of magic message boards. On several of them people have complained about the Criss Angel (or "Chris", or "Cris" or "Angle") specials because on several of them - the helicopter fishhook suspension, for example - he does things that aren't magic.
What?
Darren Romeo sings in his magic act. Should we criticize him? Goldfinger and Dove dance. Is that wrong? Arguably the most famous name in magic, Houdini, mostly did escapes, not magic.
I would also bet that most of the people offering up the criticism of Criss/Cris/Chris Angel/Angle also do the odd balloon animal or bit of juggling. But again, it's always the other guy that's wrong, isn't it?
I found some things I didn't care for on the two Krissss Anjul shows I watched, but bashing him because he did things that weren't magic? Come on. He didn't sign a pact with you, me or anyone that said, "I will do magician's tricks and only magician's tricks, so help me [insert your favorite demon here]."
Shows with only one thematic element have no texture. Fault Mr. Ainchel for many things, but at least he has vision.
It astounds me that in a pursuit that should attract creative types and stimulate the mind as much as magic should, that so many of us suffer from constipation of the imagination.
What?
Darren Romeo sings in his magic act. Should we criticize him? Goldfinger and Dove dance. Is that wrong? Arguably the most famous name in magic, Houdini, mostly did escapes, not magic.
I would also bet that most of the people offering up the criticism of Criss/Cris/Chris Angel/Angle also do the odd balloon animal or bit of juggling. But again, it's always the other guy that's wrong, isn't it?
I found some things I didn't care for on the two Krissss Anjul shows I watched, but bashing him because he did things that weren't magic? Come on. He didn't sign a pact with you, me or anyone that said, "I will do magician's tricks and only magician's tricks, so help me [insert your favorite demon here]."
Shows with only one thematic element have no texture. Fault Mr. Ainchel for many things, but at least he has vision.
It astounds me that in a pursuit that should attract creative types and stimulate the mind as much as magic should, that so many of us suffer from constipation of the imagination.
Monday, August 08, 2005
Tunnel vision, pt. 2
Many magicians (and I'm being generous with the term...) bemoan magic's standing among the arts. They want it to be taken as seriously as film or writing or dance or music. Ask them to quit wearing the same tuxedo they've been wearing for 25 years, though, and using the same stolen lines they've been using even longer, and you'll get variations on, "But the audience loves me!" It's always the other guy who is holding magic back. Me, I'm doing the classics.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Tunnel vision
I'm about a fourth of the way through the latest Harry Potter book. I'm a fan: I think Ms. Rowling's a good writer who deserves all the perks that have come her way. I'm hesitant to jump on the Harry Potter bandwagon vis a vis magic routining, though. Because that's what it is - a bandwagon.
Magicians have tunnel vision when it comes to putting together magic routines. They do magic about magic. Our "stories" are about finding cards or producing birds or pulling middles out of vacuously smiling girls because, well, because we can.
Every now and then someone gets "creative" and notices that the Harry Potter books and movies have the word "magic" in them, so there must be a tie-in to that stuff we do. So the next time that ever-so-creative individual does a mathematical card trick he doesn't call them cards, he calls them house-elves and poof! a new routine is born! (The really creative ones also notice there are wizards and such in the Tolkein books/movies so the terms they steal and use incorrectly come from those sources.)
Imagine if all movies referenced movies, or all songs were about music. How incredibly boring, just like most magic! The movies I love are about universal themes: love, loss, death, betrayal, redemption. For that matter, so are the Tolkein and Rowling books. But in our narrow focus we don't want to touch it, or don't know how, unless it explicitly says "magic."
Magic is just a vehicle. It is our song, our movie, our book, our dance. It is a means of expression, a way to tell a story. If the story you want to tell is, "I can do silly little inbred things that may fool you if you don't think about them for too long," fine. My ambition is to tell greater stories than that.
Magicians have tunnel vision when it comes to putting together magic routines. They do magic about magic. Our "stories" are about finding cards or producing birds or pulling middles out of vacuously smiling girls because, well, because we can.
Every now and then someone gets "creative" and notices that the Harry Potter books and movies have the word "magic" in them, so there must be a tie-in to that stuff we do. So the next time that ever-so-creative individual does a mathematical card trick he doesn't call them cards, he calls them house-elves and poof! a new routine is born! (The really creative ones also notice there are wizards and such in the Tolkein books/movies so the terms they steal and use incorrectly come from those sources.)
Imagine if all movies referenced movies, or all songs were about music. How incredibly boring, just like most magic! The movies I love are about universal themes: love, loss, death, betrayal, redemption. For that matter, so are the Tolkein and Rowling books. But in our narrow focus we don't want to touch it, or don't know how, unless it explicitly says "magic."
Magic is just a vehicle. It is our song, our movie, our book, our dance. It is a means of expression, a way to tell a story. If the story you want to tell is, "I can do silly little inbred things that may fool you if you don't think about them for too long," fine. My ambition is to tell greater stories than that.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
You're not all that
A good magic critic is hard to find. Friends either don't want to hurt your feelings or don't know enough to be helpful. Strangers? Fuhgettaboutit. Look at most of the blogs and talk to most of the members of your average magic club and you'll see the results of this: they think they're Buddha's gift to magic.
Since magic isn't as prevalent as music, acting or painting, most people don't have much, if any, basis for comparison. And since most magicians spend damn little time on their art, ten minutes "routining" my dove pan makes me look, relatively speaking, like a genius.
If everyone is telling you you're the second coming of [insert your favorite magician here], then you have little incentive to work on your act, and then where's the improvement? I think the acts that became incredibly entertaining - the Bill Malones, the Tina Lenerts, the Max Mavens, the Cardinis - actively sought out people who told them they sucked. It didn't stop there, though. They found out where and why they sucked, then they worked to eliminate those weak spots.
Even if you're a hobbyist, performing for your friends down at the bar, don't you want to be a better hobbyist? Don't you owe it to your drunk friends to give them the best experience you possibly can?
I've slacked at times, but I've also had a hell of a time getting honest feedback. I want to improve. I want to be the next Cardini, Dunninger, whoever. So next time I ask you for feedback, don't hold back. Tell me where I suck, and how I might improve. Don't worry about hurting my feelings. I'm a big boy. I'll get over it.
Since magic isn't as prevalent as music, acting or painting, most people don't have much, if any, basis for comparison. And since most magicians spend damn little time on their art, ten minutes "routining" my dove pan makes me look, relatively speaking, like a genius.
If everyone is telling you you're the second coming of [insert your favorite magician here], then you have little incentive to work on your act, and then where's the improvement? I think the acts that became incredibly entertaining - the Bill Malones, the Tina Lenerts, the Max Mavens, the Cardinis - actively sought out people who told them they sucked. It didn't stop there, though. They found out where and why they sucked, then they worked to eliminate those weak spots.
Even if you're a hobbyist, performing for your friends down at the bar, don't you want to be a better hobbyist? Don't you owe it to your drunk friends to give them the best experience you possibly can?
I've slacked at times, but I've also had a hell of a time getting honest feedback. I want to improve. I want to be the next Cardini, Dunninger, whoever. So next time I ask you for feedback, don't hold back. Tell me where I suck, and how I might improve. Don't worry about hurting my feelings. I'm a big boy. I'll get over it.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Torn up about a failure of imagination
Lots of people are coming out with torn and restored card plots and methods. Reviews on methods are mixed - Daniel Garcia's "Torn" seems to get fairly uniformly high marks - but many (most?) of the reviewers take issue with the torn and restored card effect. They wonder why there is so much attention paid to what they consider at best a throwaway piece, and at worst a worthless, non-magical non-effect. I consider this a failure of imagination on the reviewers' part.
Magic almost never has intrinsic meaning. We (the magicians) usually have to provide a framework that imbues the piece with something that grabs the spectator with more than, "Look at what I can do!" I think anything we can mutilate then restore provides the possibility for such a framework. If what I just wrote doesn't bring to mind "loss and redemption" you either aren't awake or are way too literal to be a magician anyway.
On a more mundane level, spectators are often freaked when we destroy a card. (I've never understood why...I can replace the deck for under $3.00.) When I perform, say, Card Warp, one of the things that gets to people is that I would purposely tear up cards. It would be a nifty follow-up to show them that hey, it's no big deal, because you can always put them back together again.
So the torn and restored card is not about tearing a card and putting it back together again. It's about doing something you regret, then redeeming yourself and regaining that which was lost.
If you're not seeing that, good luck with your dove pan.
Magic almost never has intrinsic meaning. We (the magicians) usually have to provide a framework that imbues the piece with something that grabs the spectator with more than, "Look at what I can do!" I think anything we can mutilate then restore provides the possibility for such a framework. If what I just wrote doesn't bring to mind "loss and redemption" you either aren't awake or are way too literal to be a magician anyway.
On a more mundane level, spectators are often freaked when we destroy a card. (I've never understood why...I can replace the deck for under $3.00.) When I perform, say, Card Warp, one of the things that gets to people is that I would purposely tear up cards. It would be a nifty follow-up to show them that hey, it's no big deal, because you can always put them back together again.
So the torn and restored card is not about tearing a card and putting it back together again. It's about doing something you regret, then redeeming yourself and regaining that which was lost.
If you're not seeing that, good luck with your dove pan.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Give 'em what they want - sometimes it's a dollar
Another Maven effect, personalized, for the sister of my previous victim, name of Bailey. Like the whole family, very attractive. Later I asked how she liked it. She said it was "crazy." I've learned that's her euphemism for "really cool."
Feeling pretty good about myself and my magic, I asked, out of all the things I've done for her (she's a fan; I've done plenty) what was her favorite.
She said it was hard to decide between the dollar bill rabbit in the hat and the dollar bill jumping frog.
Nice to have my magical ego shot down like that, and it only costs a buck.
Feeling pretty good about myself and my magic, I asked, out of all the things I've done for her (she's a fan; I've done plenty) what was her favorite.
She said it was hard to decide between the dollar bill rabbit in the hat and the dollar bill jumping frog.
Nice to have my magical ego shot down like that, and it only costs a buck.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
A lesson. Maybe I'll learn it.
The other day I was at my regular restaurant with a magician friend. The waitresses seem to like it when I come in - they often stop by to chat and to request some magic. This time I had my version of Max Maven's "PrediXion" (from Prism) ready. I told Reagan, my victim that evening, that I had developed a trick just for her.
A few days later I asked how she liked it. She proclaimed it her favorite of all the things I had done for her. Now "PrediXion" is a really strong effect, but I don't think that's why it had such an effect on her; I'd shown her strong magic before. I think she liked it so much because I'd personalized it. I took the time to develop something just for her. Never mind that I can use that presentational hook every time I do the trick - in her mind it's her trick. It's like that old joke: the most important thing in show business is sincerity...If you can learn to fake that you've got it made.
Note to self: learn to connect with audience.
A few days later I asked how she liked it. She proclaimed it her favorite of all the things I had done for her. Now "PrediXion" is a really strong effect, but I don't think that's why it had such an effect on her; I'd shown her strong magic before. I think she liked it so much because I'd personalized it. I took the time to develop something just for her. Never mind that I can use that presentational hook every time I do the trick - in her mind it's her trick. It's like that old joke: the most important thing in show business is sincerity...If you can learn to fake that you've got it made.
Note to self: learn to connect with audience.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Performance art
I admire lots of people in magic. I admire the collectors and writers for preserving our history. I admire the creators for giving us such marvelous new wonders. But magic is, if nothing else, a performing art. And it is the performers I admire most of all.
What do the collectors collect? That which belonged to (or was identified with) a performer. Who do writers write for, and about? Performers. Do creators create in a vacuum? No, although many creations suck. They create so their offspring can be performed.
Collectors, writers and creators ply their trades for themselves or for other magicians, mostly. Even if they do so for the general public it is for a really small subset. Performers, though, are for the world.
After all, a magic effect doesn't need props, or music, or a script. It really only needs an audience. And a true performer is all about the audience.
What do the collectors collect? That which belonged to (or was identified with) a performer. Who do writers write for, and about? Performers. Do creators create in a vacuum? No, although many creations suck. They create so their offspring can be performed.
Collectors, writers and creators ply their trades for themselves or for other magicians, mostly. Even if they do so for the general public it is for a really small subset. Performers, though, are for the world.
After all, a magic effect doesn't need props, or music, or a script. It really only needs an audience. And a true performer is all about the audience.