Post by Chris Martin on Aug 3, 2005 6:51:39 GMT -5
Imagine: you're ancient man, huddled close to the fire in the depths of the interminable night. You're scared, alert to each unseen noise, a people adrift in a merciless and violent world. Who do you look to for guidance ? Who holds the mysteries of the stars in his eyes, the keys to your fate in his grasp?
The shaman
The magician.
Now fast forward a hundred thousand years. You're the ten-year-old guest at another friend's stupid birthday party. Pin the tail on the donkey--Lame. Watching friend blow out candles and make a wish--Double Lame. But, hey, there's supposed to be a magician--that might be cool.
Enter Magic Howard--but you can just call me Uncle Howard, kids! He's a bizarre character who proceeds to deliver a steady stream of annoyingly corny jokes , which might've been lifted whole cloth from a humorous lines book marketed to particularly dim witted five-year-olds, and presents a monotonous series of puzzles which make you feel slightly confused and a little bit stupid. Rapid fire conclusion: This Bites.
Now, dear reader, let me pose this question to you: What the hell happened?
I guess the answers to that question are myriad, so I'd like to focus on just the one that I feel dominates.
Somehow, between the time when man gazed upon the moon as the eye of God and the now when he gazes upon his computer screen as the possible eye of Satan, the magician's mindset changed from one of concern for presentation , to absolute obsession with his tricks.
But let's examine this more closely, and I think you'll see the truth of what I'm saying. The ancient shaman was most probably extremely limited in regards to repertoire. He possessed only a very few effects, or tricks, which had been handed down, master to acolyte, for as far back as memory can stretch. Maybe he could make the fire dance and change colors with some magic dust, or induce mystical trances with an arcane mixture of herbs. Yet employing these bare effects he was able to rise to a position of dominance among his people, become a figurehead that even the leader of the tribe feared and respected. He was able to elicit power with nothing more than a few elementery deceptions.
Of course the shaman didn't have shuttle passes and spread controls and one handed slip cuts clouding his thoughts. If he did have any sleight of hand ability it was probably of an extremely simplistic variety--the vanishing pebble kind of thing. I suppose that what I'm driving at here is that the shaman's very lack of technique forced him to explore other avenues of deception. His ignorance was actually a blessing in disguise.
For the shaman presentation was everything. Suppose he'd just walked up to his fellow caveman and said, or grunted, "Look, I make pebble disappear." Odds are the fellow would've been puzzled at the display, perhaps intrigued, but even his primeval mind would've reasoned that what he'd seen was not supernatural as evidenced by the shaman's cavalier behavior. Do you think he'd heed the shaman's future advice in matters of import? Would you? No, everything the shaman did from that point on would be diminished, every miracle would be put into question.
Instead, imagine the shaman approaching the same fellow and informing him that he had, after grueling months of offering himself to the spirits, achieved power over stone. He chants, his eyes roll back in his head, the air itself seems charged with anticipation. Then suddenly, displaying a small pebble, he causes the stone to vanish--it's gone! Major revelation: the shaman is magic. He is to be feared and revered. The fellow bows in wonder before this entity in human skin.
And when the time comes to seek counsel does our caveman friend go to the magician? My friends, he would be going like his hair was on fire and his back was catching fire as well. In those times the magician Ruled.
Now, I can hear you out there smugly pointing out that sure the shaman enjoyed great power with his foolish little tricks because the people of that time were ignorant and superstitious. And I could point out that ignorance and superstition are as active today as they ever were, but I won't. Next , you're probably going to tell me that simple tricks like those would never play in today's techno- savvy society; you've read a thousand times how magic has to struggle to keep up with technology.
WRONG.
Listen to me, I'm going to tell you something that psychics and charlatans have known all along, but that we magicians constantly overlook, and that is that technology, while fine and good, is not magic. They're two different fish; one is explicable and one isn't. The technology of our day is no more magical than the stone axe of the shaman's time.
You don't believe me? Just look how people like Uri Geller baffled scientists and obtained cult status using simple tricks. He just bent the sthingy when no one was looking-- he only presented it as if he'd done the bending with his mind. Or look at the current popularity of cold reading. Using only questions, cold readers are able to convince strangers that they're conversing with their dead relatives. Methods can be crude, but when coupled with sound presentation they can still rock your world.
Still don't believe me? Okay, let me drop a name: David Blaine.
Blaine has earned millions and gained mythic popularity by performing, among others, very simple tricks that can be found in any beginning magician's text. I'm talking about things like the Ash Trick and the Gypsy Thread. What's the difference between him and Magic Howard? Presentation, that's all. Blaine treats what he does as if it's real magic; Howard treats it like the magical equivalent of a Big Mac and fries.
If you're still not convinced, here's a simple experiment you can try. Go up to someone. Don't say you want to show them a trick, just that you want to show them something. Take their wrists in your hands. Subtly position your index fingers so you can feel the pulse in each of their wrists--don't use your thumbs, they have their own pulse. Tell that person you're going to read their mind. Instruct them to close their eyes and concentrate on one hand and one hand only. You will be able to detect a change of pulse in the hand they're thinking of. But wait a minute, play it out, imagine you're truly reading their mind. Then slowly raise the hand they chose.
Here we have a very simple trick that, with the proper presentation, can produce deep astonishment. Try it. Just remember, it's in the presentation; if you play it right you've done a miracle.
I think one of the most accurate things I ever read in any magic book was a line from "Strong Magic" by Darwin Ortiz. To wit: The audience takes its cue from you.
Sounds simple, but it's actually one of the most profound truths of our art. If we treat our magic as a joke, as something of limited import, so shall our audience. Conversely, if treated with genuine respect, if treated as something special and of value, they will treat it that way too.
Accumulation and mastery of sleights and moves won't make you a magician any more than accumulation of steps and moves will make you a dancer. Remember, it's presentation that transforms technique into art.
And so magic has gradually deteriorated as magicians have become more and more preoccupied with each new trick to come along. Somehow it became all right to just do a trick; it became okay, fashionable even, to ignore everything every good practitioner was trying to tell us. After all, nobody really takes magic seriously anyway--do they?
I do. And I think you do, too, or you wouldn't have read this far. So what can we do to get magic back on the right track, to reconnect with the shaman of old?
First, ask yourself, if I could really do magic is this something I'd do? Would you really waste your time plucking cards out of the air when you can buy them at any Wal-Mart for two bucks a pack? Would you really make billiard balls appear and multiply if you could violate the very laws of nature?
But wait, don't get me wrong. The above effects can be quite magical as evidenced by the incomparable Cardini, who featured both in his act. But they worked for Cardini because of the context they were presented in i.e. a tipsy English gentleman to whom inexplicable things were happening. Which brings us to point number two:
If you decide a trick is one you'd do if you could really do magic, locate the motivation for doing it. Why would anyone change kings into aces? Because such a skill could prove quite lucrative in Vegas or Atlantic City. In our earlier example, why would anyone want the ability to distinguish which hand another was thinking of? Because in real life the ability to read minds would provide an enormous advantage in virtually anything you might do. The subtext of that trick is that you very well might be able to know more than which hand was thought of, that you might've glimpsed that person's most intimate thoughts.
Next, keep it Simple. Never make the audience work to learn why you're doing an effect. In all the best magic the why is self evident.
Avoid sucker effects. Listen, I'm probably going to incur the wrath of legions of traditional magicians, but things like the passé passé bottles and the die box are hideous. I mean, what are you trying to say with these effects, that you're a fraud? That you're trying to make the audience feel stupid? Arguably they're entertaining, although probably more to those who present them than to anyone else, but, hey, like the man said, they d**n sure isn’t magic.
Finally, put at least as much time into developing a sound presentation as you do into mastering a trick's technique. This is, of course, the biggie and the message most of these words were intended to impart. Remember Ortiz"s words: The audience takes its cue from you. Treat your effects like miracles, and in the audience's eyes they will be miraculous.
So, in the final analysis , it's up to you. Do you want to continue to march in the ranks of the finger flingers and bad actors, or do you have the guts to break form and embark on a new path? I guess the real question is, Do you have what it takes? In the end, as in all things, the choice is up to you.
~ Mysterious Jim
The shaman
The magician.
Now fast forward a hundred thousand years. You're the ten-year-old guest at another friend's stupid birthday party. Pin the tail on the donkey--Lame. Watching friend blow out candles and make a wish--Double Lame. But, hey, there's supposed to be a magician--that might be cool.
Enter Magic Howard--but you can just call me Uncle Howard, kids! He's a bizarre character who proceeds to deliver a steady stream of annoyingly corny jokes , which might've been lifted whole cloth from a humorous lines book marketed to particularly dim witted five-year-olds, and presents a monotonous series of puzzles which make you feel slightly confused and a little bit stupid. Rapid fire conclusion: This Bites.
Now, dear reader, let me pose this question to you: What the hell happened?
I guess the answers to that question are myriad, so I'd like to focus on just the one that I feel dominates.
Somehow, between the time when man gazed upon the moon as the eye of God and the now when he gazes upon his computer screen as the possible eye of Satan, the magician's mindset changed from one of concern for presentation , to absolute obsession with his tricks.
But let's examine this more closely, and I think you'll see the truth of what I'm saying. The ancient shaman was most probably extremely limited in regards to repertoire. He possessed only a very few effects, or tricks, which had been handed down, master to acolyte, for as far back as memory can stretch. Maybe he could make the fire dance and change colors with some magic dust, or induce mystical trances with an arcane mixture of herbs. Yet employing these bare effects he was able to rise to a position of dominance among his people, become a figurehead that even the leader of the tribe feared and respected. He was able to elicit power with nothing more than a few elementery deceptions.
Of course the shaman didn't have shuttle passes and spread controls and one handed slip cuts clouding his thoughts. If he did have any sleight of hand ability it was probably of an extremely simplistic variety--the vanishing pebble kind of thing. I suppose that what I'm driving at here is that the shaman's very lack of technique forced him to explore other avenues of deception. His ignorance was actually a blessing in disguise.
For the shaman presentation was everything. Suppose he'd just walked up to his fellow caveman and said, or grunted, "Look, I make pebble disappear." Odds are the fellow would've been puzzled at the display, perhaps intrigued, but even his primeval mind would've reasoned that what he'd seen was not supernatural as evidenced by the shaman's cavalier behavior. Do you think he'd heed the shaman's future advice in matters of import? Would you? No, everything the shaman did from that point on would be diminished, every miracle would be put into question.
Instead, imagine the shaman approaching the same fellow and informing him that he had, after grueling months of offering himself to the spirits, achieved power over stone. He chants, his eyes roll back in his head, the air itself seems charged with anticipation. Then suddenly, displaying a small pebble, he causes the stone to vanish--it's gone! Major revelation: the shaman is magic. He is to be feared and revered. The fellow bows in wonder before this entity in human skin.
And when the time comes to seek counsel does our caveman friend go to the magician? My friends, he would be going like his hair was on fire and his back was catching fire as well. In those times the magician Ruled.
Now, I can hear you out there smugly pointing out that sure the shaman enjoyed great power with his foolish little tricks because the people of that time were ignorant and superstitious. And I could point out that ignorance and superstition are as active today as they ever were, but I won't. Next , you're probably going to tell me that simple tricks like those would never play in today's techno- savvy society; you've read a thousand times how magic has to struggle to keep up with technology.
WRONG.
Listen to me, I'm going to tell you something that psychics and charlatans have known all along, but that we magicians constantly overlook, and that is that technology, while fine and good, is not magic. They're two different fish; one is explicable and one isn't. The technology of our day is no more magical than the stone axe of the shaman's time.
You don't believe me? Just look how people like Uri Geller baffled scientists and obtained cult status using simple tricks. He just bent the sthingy when no one was looking-- he only presented it as if he'd done the bending with his mind. Or look at the current popularity of cold reading. Using only questions, cold readers are able to convince strangers that they're conversing with their dead relatives. Methods can be crude, but when coupled with sound presentation they can still rock your world.
Still don't believe me? Okay, let me drop a name: David Blaine.
Blaine has earned millions and gained mythic popularity by performing, among others, very simple tricks that can be found in any beginning magician's text. I'm talking about things like the Ash Trick and the Gypsy Thread. What's the difference between him and Magic Howard? Presentation, that's all. Blaine treats what he does as if it's real magic; Howard treats it like the magical equivalent of a Big Mac and fries.
If you're still not convinced, here's a simple experiment you can try. Go up to someone. Don't say you want to show them a trick, just that you want to show them something. Take their wrists in your hands. Subtly position your index fingers so you can feel the pulse in each of their wrists--don't use your thumbs, they have their own pulse. Tell that person you're going to read their mind. Instruct them to close their eyes and concentrate on one hand and one hand only. You will be able to detect a change of pulse in the hand they're thinking of. But wait a minute, play it out, imagine you're truly reading their mind. Then slowly raise the hand they chose.
Here we have a very simple trick that, with the proper presentation, can produce deep astonishment. Try it. Just remember, it's in the presentation; if you play it right you've done a miracle.
I think one of the most accurate things I ever read in any magic book was a line from "Strong Magic" by Darwin Ortiz. To wit: The audience takes its cue from you.
Sounds simple, but it's actually one of the most profound truths of our art. If we treat our magic as a joke, as something of limited import, so shall our audience. Conversely, if treated with genuine respect, if treated as something special and of value, they will treat it that way too.
Accumulation and mastery of sleights and moves won't make you a magician any more than accumulation of steps and moves will make you a dancer. Remember, it's presentation that transforms technique into art.
And so magic has gradually deteriorated as magicians have become more and more preoccupied with each new trick to come along. Somehow it became all right to just do a trick; it became okay, fashionable even, to ignore everything every good practitioner was trying to tell us. After all, nobody really takes magic seriously anyway--do they?
I do. And I think you do, too, or you wouldn't have read this far. So what can we do to get magic back on the right track, to reconnect with the shaman of old?
First, ask yourself, if I could really do magic is this something I'd do? Would you really waste your time plucking cards out of the air when you can buy them at any Wal-Mart for two bucks a pack? Would you really make billiard balls appear and multiply if you could violate the very laws of nature?
But wait, don't get me wrong. The above effects can be quite magical as evidenced by the incomparable Cardini, who featured both in his act. But they worked for Cardini because of the context they were presented in i.e. a tipsy English gentleman to whom inexplicable things were happening. Which brings us to point number two:
If you decide a trick is one you'd do if you could really do magic, locate the motivation for doing it. Why would anyone change kings into aces? Because such a skill could prove quite lucrative in Vegas or Atlantic City. In our earlier example, why would anyone want the ability to distinguish which hand another was thinking of? Because in real life the ability to read minds would provide an enormous advantage in virtually anything you might do. The subtext of that trick is that you very well might be able to know more than which hand was thought of, that you might've glimpsed that person's most intimate thoughts.
Next, keep it Simple. Never make the audience work to learn why you're doing an effect. In all the best magic the why is self evident.
Avoid sucker effects. Listen, I'm probably going to incur the wrath of legions of traditional magicians, but things like the passé passé bottles and the die box are hideous. I mean, what are you trying to say with these effects, that you're a fraud? That you're trying to make the audience feel stupid? Arguably they're entertaining, although probably more to those who present them than to anyone else, but, hey, like the man said, they d**n sure isn’t magic.
Finally, put at least as much time into developing a sound presentation as you do into mastering a trick's technique. This is, of course, the biggie and the message most of these words were intended to impart. Remember Ortiz"s words: The audience takes its cue from you. Treat your effects like miracles, and in the audience's eyes they will be miraculous.
So, in the final analysis , it's up to you. Do you want to continue to march in the ranks of the finger flingers and bad actors, or do you have the guts to break form and embark on a new path? I guess the real question is, Do you have what it takes? In the end, as in all things, the choice is up to you.
~ Mysterious Jim
