Not so long ago, I wrote here that I have a love-hate relationship with the cups and balls. If I left you with the impression that love and hate set the balance even, allow me please to clarify: I hate more than love the cups and balls.
And, by that, I mean the trick itself. As for the cups, I enjoy collecting them, though I won’t live long enough to out do my friend Bill Palmer. Visit his cups and balls museum to see what I mean.
Glenn Bishop has recently written quite a bit on the trick. (I hope you’ve taken the time to read what he has to say.)
Lots of magicians have spent an awful lot of time on the trick. Dai Vernon and his friend Charlie Miller come immediately to mind. I recently mentioned Michael Ammar’s ambitious compendium, “The Complete Cups and Balls Book.” For many — I dare say most — magicians, the cups and balls is a right of entry to being a magician.
In a telephone chat with my friend Jim Sisti recently, I mentioned my wishy-washy opinion of the trick. He reminded me of a few performers, the routines of whom I have not seen. I hold out the possibility I may, indeed, enjoy a good cups and balls routine. I just need to see one first.
There have been a number of beloved versions of the cups. The cups designed by Paul Fox (and now that I’ve invoked those two words juxtaposed, I may as well say, “Hello, psycho.” You know who you are.) Danny Dew continued that design. The Charlie Miller set is a favorite of many. Then, in the late 1990s, Jim Sisti designed a beautiful set of cups I have said repeatedly I regret not purchasing. The only way for me to describe the Sherwood cups is to use an expletive in front of the word “beautiful.”
(As an aside, in doing a little research on this subject, I ran across an old review of the Morrisey cups and balls set. The review was submitted in 1998 by John Evernden, who went by the handle “Olde Rabbit” on the Magic Talk discussion board. John pased away on June 2, 2001. Amazingly enough, I found the same review — word for word — on the Ellusionist site. But there it is attributed to David Mitchell. Interesting, don’t you think?)
Back to the subject at hand: the trick itself doesn’t jazz me. And I’m not in terrible company, either.
Writing in his column in Joe Stevens’ Winter ’95/Spring ’96 magalog, Jon Racherbaumer referred to the cups and balls as “an amusing nonsense.” I read that column and had a Navin R. Johnson moment (“The new phone book’s here! The new phone book’s here!“)
It’s not a meaningful experience to watch the confusing peregrinations of little balls and bigger cups. The trick is about what happens to the balls. It’s about cups and balls, but what about the symbolic content of these things? Do they have any? Does anything relate to the spectators? Is anything relevant to their lives, dreams, and personal fantasies?”
Racherbaumer didn’t overtly answer his question, so please allow me to: No.
Jon also recounted a story that has stuck with me ever since reading it. Don Alan and his wife were watching a well known performer who was an acknowledged expert with the cups and balls, perform his routine. Don whispered to his wife, “Can you believe what he can do with those balls?” His wife whispered back, “Who gives a shit?”
Apparently, Don’s wife was not — how shall I put this? — emotionally engaged in the cups and balls routine. That had less to do with how well the routine was performed as it did why it was performed.
Racherbaumer notes this was a turning point for Don. He later turned his attention to routining Al Wheatley’s Chop Cup. The rest, as they say, is history.
What’s the point? Interestingly (ironically) enough, the only act I’ve found to actually make a point with/about the cups and balls managed to make two points at once. In their now (in)famous cups and balls routine done with clear plastic cups, Penn & Teller proved that:
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1. audiences care less about how we do things than why we do them.
2. confusion is not magic, though it can be entertaining for audiences and infuriating for some magicians.
“Confusion is not magic.” — Dai Vernon
“Amen.” — Me
ADDED 5/10/2005: I’m going through two large boxes of new, unopened DVDs I’m getting ready to sell (I occasionally purchase the remaining inventory of closed magic shops, or the excess inventory of shops wishing to remain open — time to get rid of the duplicates) and found two 2-volume sets of Michael Ammar’s, “The Complete Cups and Balls” DVDs.
From the back of volume one:
The Cups and Balls is a classic of magic every magician should study. A rite of passage that distinguishes the truly serious, it puts into context so many magic principles that one might become a better magician overall, simply by mastering this effect.
I agree that studying the Cups and Balls trick can make you a better magician. In this case, I consider it sort of weight-lifting.
By the way, these 2-volume sets retail for $65.00. The first two folks to pony up $39 each can have them. Paypal, flat $5 domestic shipping; overseas Global Priority is $10.
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Disclaimer: I’m a novice magician (and that’s a generous description of my experience and abilities), so bear that in mind.
There’s a review of Reed McClintock’s DVD Coin Ovations on MyLovelyAssistant.com by Brad Henderson where he says about one of the effects, “International Three Fly would make a great etude. Something to practice, develop some chops, try to figure out a way to perform it magically, but in truth realizing this is for the practice room not the paying public.”
There are some successful magicians who make the cups and balls a key part of their act, so there must be something to it, but I think I might see what you mean about all the meaningless movement of the balls from cup to cup–maybe it’s something that appeals to magicians but not necessarily to audiences. For example, in the Don Alan story he seemed to be into it, but his non-magician wife was unengaged.
I get a similar feeling when I watch most card tricks, but at least they usually end quickly. Maybe that’s the problem with the cups and balls–it’s too easy to make it drag on and on.
Anyways, I like the cups and balls, but I can see where you’re coming from.
I know what you mean. There’s no emotional content inherent in the cups and balls – in and of themselves. In that direction, though, there’s no inherent emotional content in most of the classics of magic: the egg bag, the cards up the sleeve, the linking rings, and so on and so forth. Yet these effects have stood the test of time.
What many – no, most – magicians overlook is that these things, classics though they are, are not self-working in the sense that they automatically please an audience. The wonderful thing about these effects is that they’re blank slates upon which the performer may write anything he wishes, has he only the imagination and desire. So, in the hands of one performer, the egg bag is a trite puzzle, but in the hands of another it’s a conflict between two genders and a bothersome mystery. In the hands of one performer, the linking rings is a waste of everybody’s time, but in the hands of another it’s an elegant and rich display of the art of magic.
And the cups and balls can be either a convoluted excursion into confusing meaninglessness or a small journey for both the audience and performer. It all depends on what the magician does – and does not – understand about the routine he’s doing.
Looking back, I have to say that Michael Skinner’s performance of the cups and balls on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson two decades ago stands as the best I’ve seen. His patter was basically expository. His approach was direct. The routine was simple. HOWEVER, there was something undeniably and completely special about it. Something came from within Michael where he settled so comfortably into the routine that it became spellbinding. Three coffee cups, three olives (or were they cherries? It doesn’t matter) and a table knife. Those seven props along with four major TV and movie stars and millions of viewers. It was anything but trite and anything but meaningless. Even though there was no story or overt attempt to draw laughter or a tear, people everywhere got a glimpse into what magic – GOOD magic – could be.
I’ve never, ever performed a standard cups and balls routine for anybody, even after a lifetime’s interest in magic. The sole reason is that I felt I could never do as good a job as Michael did that night. I still don’t, but I’m at a point in my magical career now where I think I need to. I know that at this point a cups and balls routine would suit me – and I’d like to learn Michael’s in particular. He’s gone now…I think somebody should be doing it, because we shouldn’t let those things go. We have to keep them as alive as we can. Forever.
Hello, Travis.
Oh, no doubt the cups and balls can be made to work. In fact, Jon Racherbaumer reminds that Dai Vernon framed his performance as a demonstration of prestidigitation — and interesting word to look up, by the way. Jon writes:
This is akin to the way some street magicians perform it.
Really, I don’t want to disparage the cups and balls, but rather resurrect the question Jon asked and I often ask here: is it magic? As a demonstration of sleight of hand, I can see the cups and balls working.
Thanks for visiting, and for leaving your thoughts on this.
John
Ah, B.S., but that’s the point: making it personal for the audience. I agree that lots of magic is performed as a demonstration rather than magic, and that’s the performer’s fault. But the cups and balls stands aside: how do you make it magic? It’s a great demonstration of prestidigitation, but is it magic? I don’t think so.
Also, I am referring to the standard set of cups and balls (crotched, or Mike Rogers beautiful baseballs.) Skinners routine added a level of interest simply by the props he used: coffee cups. (And, like you, I don’t recall if they were olives or cherries.) But you did mention his routine was straight forward. Add Michael’s personality, and it worked.
After I published this post last night, I started thinking back (again) if there was any performance of the thing I personally witnessed that I thought was magic. And I came up empty again. Are there routines that are interesting? Yes, of course. Are they magical? Not to me.
I also find it interesting that I don’t feel this way with Cups and Balls Lite (the Chop Cup.) Then again, I don’t do a Chop Cup with a “normal” cup and ball.
You bring up several great points. Thanks for taking the time to share them.
John
The one routine I can think of that supplies emotional content (say that with Bruce Lee’s accent for full effect) is David Regal’s, where he relates it to learning magic as a youngster, then the final load brings the routine full circle.
Two points, though:
1. It does seem to work well on the street, as Cellini, Gazzo and many others have demonstrated.
2. It really doesn’t matter if you don’t like it, or if I don’t like it. The audience gets the final vote. And on that tally it does seem to have hung around for a while.
1. I think the reason it works well on the street is that it is not really done as magic, but as a demonstration of “the hand is quicker than the eye” — prestidigitation. I have no problem with that. In fact I don’t really have a problem with the cups and balls per se, outside of the fact I don’t see the traditional routine as magical.
2. I’m of a mind to believe the reason it’s hung on as long as it has is because magicians have made it so, not because audiences demand to see it.
This is in contrast to sponge bunnies (or sponge ball) routines. Those are tricks that many audiences obviously delight in, and ask to see over and over. Cups and balls? Sorry, I have to disagree that normal people (those outside our world of magic) want to see a C&B routine performed as if it were magic.
John
Hi John Great post!
A good cup and balls routine has – vanishes, balls changing places – and surprise with the big loads.
I think that is why AUDIENCES like it. It also shows skill when performed in a timely way. It is a classic that has stood the test of time. To me magic is useful or not useful.
I do not like a magic effect or not like something.
It is useful or not useful.
And I find the cups and balls useful because the AUDIENCES I perform for like it… And they pay me to do effects that they like and effects that will entertain them.
I find the cups and balls very useful to this goal.
Glenn, I think you make my point: you have a goal which is not to make the cups and/or balls “magical”. You’ve crafted a routine that demonstrates your skill. In other words, prestidigitation as opposed to a wizard’s powers over inanimate objects.
I put this (mostly) in the same category as gambling demonstrations — which I love dearly, and also notice normal people enjoy. They are a demonstrations of skill.
Thanks for stopping by and leaving your thoughts. Always appreciated!
John
The Great Tomsoni, Johnny Thompson, does a version of the cups and balls that I find to be truly magical. No, he doesn’t do the effect as a demonstration of his sleight-of-hand skill. In fact, he does the ‘moves’ required so well that he doesn’t seem to be doing anything special at all. The typical cups and balls effects happen effortlessly as Johnny goes through his one-of-a-kind presentation. So what’s so special about this trick in Johnny’s hands?
Johnny does a multi-phase routine that’s a history of the cups and balls in the 20th century. As he performs each phase, Johnny is transformed into a different performer. He channels Pop Krieger, Dai Vernon, and Charlie Miller in succession. Finally, the routine ends with Johnny himself. It evokes a feeling of wonderous infinity, with Johnny being the most recent link in an unending chain of magicians who have performed the Cups and Balls throughout time. Seeing Johnny perform cups and balls and knowing that at some time he will be part of the history of magic as well… the whole thing never fails to evoke a strong emotional response in me every time that I have the privilege to see it.
Could you expand on what you mean by the effect not being “magic”? I may have an inkling of what you’re talking about, but I’m not sure.
Hi John,
I think that a big part of being successful as a magic entertainer and getting out there and doing shows. I feel that it is a help in being able to do some manipulation or “show of skill” in an entertaining way.
The reason is that it will show the audience that the performer has “paid their dues” as a student of magic. And has really studied the art of magic.
What is a magician? A person like an actor that is playing a part of a man or a woman that can work wonders?
Or a person playing a part – that seems to be able to bend natures forces to fit an agenda on a stage in an entertaining way – for the length of the performance and collect a pay check?
I don’t know.
But I have found that magic entertainment by manipulation very good. And entertainment that people will pay money to see.
I do stuff my audience likes and choose effects with my audience in mind. I keep things short and try to hit them with a punch surprise finish. Then move on to the next one and hit them again.
Best ahead,
Glenn Bishop
Yikes! I forgot to mention it earlier, but Tommy Wonder’s version of the Cups and Balls absolutely fried me. Straight exposition, and magic that left me breathless.
If you haven’t already heard about Tommy’s routine, it would be best to NOT read anything about it. Then, at your earliest opportunity, watch the routine through your best spectator eyes, and tell me if you think it’s magical. Even if it takes a few years, I’ll wait here patiently for you… 🙂
I’m inclined to agree that overall the vast majority of performers who do the Cups and Balls do it in a way that’s uninteresting, confusing, and simply a setup for the big load finale. In fact, I haven’t cared for the trick much through most of my magical career. Aalthough I played with the Cups and Balls for years in the past, I didn’t actually own a set for probably 25 years.
The Sherwood Cups triggered a transformation in me; I saw them, was “called” to buy a set, and determined to find the “gold” in the routine. It has been a very tough birthing struggle, but I am coming up with a rhythm, a way of making each phase HIT, that works for me and seems to garner strong, appreciative reactions. I also present it as an “enduring classic,” with the further (and absolutely true) note that it seems to have a primal appeal that makes it truly one of the most influential and seminal tricks of all time. That introduction, plus the appearance of the Sherwood Cups, sets the stage for something truly special.
That said, I don’t think most magicians (even a lot of famous and highly regarded ones) have the technical and performance chops to pull off the trick in a way that doesn’t look like a lot of sleight-of-hand. Ricky Jay, for instance, does a terrific routine in “52 Assistants,” but in my opinion it *still* suffers from an excess of moviness and lack of clarity (good climax, though). My goal is to make all the work invisible, so the balls simply seem to jump around by magic and at my command.
I laid hands on a set of Sherwood cups while
lustingstrolling around the dealers’ room at MAGIC Live! last summer. Oh my, my, my. I had much the same feeling you did (as did my pal Jim Sisti,) but I didn’t pop for a $1,200 set of cups.You know who did a fantastic cups and balls routine (and I’m so sorry I never saw it live): Frank Garcia. Fortunately I have a video tape. His set was simple, straight forward, and didn’t try to be “magic-y” — if that makes sense.
Best of luck working out your routine. I hope to get to see it before I assume room temperature.
John