...I wrote my song.
And in the tradition of most first songs, it sucks.
Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 04, 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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Soo good
When I finish it I'll post a more complete review. But hey, it's Steinmeyer, it's magic history, it's got to be good.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Spectacularly silly
I'm reading The Rise of the Indian Rope Trick: How a Spectacular Hoax Became History. So far it's spectacularly silly. In what I suppose is an effort to avoid an overly dry style the author, Peter Lamont, goes too far and distracts with attempted wit. The subject can stand on its own, Peter. It doesn't need bad Monty Python imitations in a misguided attempt to keep the reader's interest. The research is good. The schtick isn't.