{"id":189,"date":"2005-06-08T20:22:46","date_gmt":"2005-06-09T01:22:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/?p=189"},"modified":"2005-06-08T20:23:54","modified_gmt":"2005-06-09T01:23:54","slug":"hotel-california","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/2005\/06\/08\/hotel-california\/","title":{"rendered":"Hotel California."},"content":{"rendered":"

One of the lovely benefits of (occasionally) writing in this blog is the email it generates. Not a lot of email, mind you. But what there is of it is usually very interesting, when it’s not amusing. Sometimes it’s both. Recently I received two emails basically asking the same thing: why did I (or anyone) get into magic, and how can they get into magic, too. (Well, that and, “Do you know the real name of the man called The Professor?”<\/em> To which I always reply, “Russell Johnson<\/a>, why do you want to know?”<\/em>)<\/p>\n

Magic is a wonderful thing. Those who actually perform magic for others know this instantly. (Others suspect it as truth, and that’s what generates some of the email I get.) There’s something about creating that instant of astonishment\/disbelief\/rip-in-the-fabric of the space-time-continuum<\/a>. You get the picture, I’m sure.<\/p>\n

I mentioned a few days ago<\/a> that David Regal<\/a> was offering a stellar deal on his two-volume set, “Constant Fooling.”<\/em> And, since I hadn’t added those to the library here at Casa Escamoteurettes, I decided to take advantage of it. The books arrived Saturday and I only had a moment to leaf through them, but this quote stood out immediately:<\/p>\n

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“I have the bug. For me, magic — a salute to the subversion of order in the universe — is one of the few things in the world that makes sense.<\/p>\n

“Everyone needs to temporarily remove themselves from concerns, and lose themselves in activities and rituals designed to do just that. That’s why there are storytellers, plays, films, books, spectator sports, religions, and fortunes in fortune cookies. That’s why there are performances of magic. Magic tells people there are possibilities<\/em>, and one would be hard-pressed to find a more compelling message than that. The need to put reality on hold is so basic, some of the largest corporations on the planet exist simply to distract and amuse.”<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Despite what anyone might tell you, doing a magic trick perfectly<\/em> isn’t terribly difficult. This is not rocket science<\/a>. Look at much of what makes up the long and distinguished line of Tenyo tricks<\/a> (hello, Angelo) and that, alone, proves my point. If that’s not enough, a good Ultra Mental<\/a><\/em> routine certainly will. This is why I harp on the difference between magic trick<\/em> and magic effect<\/em>; the trick is what you do; the effect is why you do it.<\/p>\n

Performing magic<\/em>, on the other hand, is a beast of an entirely<\/em> different stripe. It’s one thing to technically (perfectly) perform a magic trick, and quite another to stop time in its tracks and bend reality back onto itself. The difference between a perfectly executed magic trick<\/em> and actually doing magic<\/em> is the difference between an audience member saying, “Hmmm, that’s…interesting.”<\/em> and an audience member staring at you for a second or two before blurting out, “No. F*****g. Way.”<\/em> (I’ve long believed that the level and amount of profanity uttered after I perform a trick may not be the best, but it is the most accurate barometer of how well it played.)<\/p>\n

To put it another way, one thing happens in the hands, the other between the ears. (Since all wonder occurs between the ears<\/a>, maybe you can better understand my deep, abiding passion for mentalism.) It takes a lot of practice to “get it right” — and that practice includes doing it lots or lots of times, observing the reactions, and adjusting the routining to get the best reaction. That takes quite an investment.<\/p>\n

Why do magicians do magic?<\/p>\n

On the surface, it’s a simple question. In reality — an interesting word to use, given the subject matter — the answer is as varied as the people who perform. Many people are convinced down to the marrow of their bones that magic is the Great Equalizer<\/a>; geeks who couldn’t get a chick to give them the time of day turn to magic to get the chicks. Except that here on planet earth that, apparently, only works for Jay Sankey.<\/p>\n

Many of the people with whom I’ve had this conversation explain that they learned their first trick and eagerly, if nervously, performed it for someone they knew. Then came the experience of their audience’s reaction<\/em> to the trick. As a result, they became hooked on magic like nobody’s business. It’s a story that’s repeated over and over. It’s seeing a person’s reaction that’s the real magic. Crack<\/a> needs a glass pipe, a dealer, and an unending supply of money; magic just needs and audience of one. (In the spirit of full disclosure I must admit that magic needs an unending supply of money, too. You have been warned.)<\/p>\n

In my world, I perform for the reaction. (Well, I perform for the money, too.) For me — and I suspect it’s the same for lots of close-up performers — doing magic is like a little boy running up to his parent with a gift he just can’t wait to see opened. You spend what may seem to others as an inordinate amount of time wrapping it just so<\/em>, but seeing it opened… That’s as close to the feeling as I can explain. When you learn to perform magic<\/em> as opposed to doing tricks<\/em>, it’s like giving someone a gift. And it’s the expression once the package is fully opened that you live for.<\/p>\n

Experience it once and it’s like Hotel California<\/a>; you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave<\/em>. Magicians — many magicians I know personally — go through waves where they have to put the wand down, even if for a little while, for whatever the reason. Not everyone performs magic 100% of the time. Most performers have other things going on called “a life” that includes family and work and other hobbies. Eventually, though, magic calls again. And you answer. And it’s like you’ve never been gone. That’s magic.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

One of the lovely benefits of (occasionally) writing in this blog is the email it generates. Not a lot of email, mind you. But what there is of it is usually very interesting, when it’s not amusing. Sometimes it’s both. Recently I received two emails basically asking the same thing: why did I (or anyone) […]<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/189"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=189"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/189\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=189"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=189"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.escamoteurettes.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=189"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}