tag:magic.davidrowyn.com,2014:/feedDavid Rowyn2014-07-07T07:00:34-07:00David Rowynhttp://magic.davidrowyn.comSvbtle.comtag:magic.davidrowyn.com,2014:Post/adventures-with-max2014-07-07T07:00:34-07:002014-07-07T07:00:34-07:00Adventures With Max Maven<p><a href="https://svbtleusercontent.com/bysc1zsvogmg.jpg"><img src="https://svbtleusercontent.com/bysc1zsvogmg_small.jpg" alt="128591391_50de7b790f_z.jpg"></a></p>
<p>Photo: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/piero/128591391">Piero Sierra</a></p>
<h1 id="1-the-drug-electric_1">1. The Drug Electric <a class="head_anchor" href="#1-the-drug-electric_1">#</a>
</h1>
<p>It was at one of the conventions. I don’t remember which—maybe TAOM. I stumble upon Eric Mead, Michael Weber, and Max Maven in light conversation. We exchange secret handshakes, then Eric excuses himself for a bit while Max runs to the restroom. Weber and I chat about his family while waiting for Max to return. Shortly thereafter, we’re all discussing Greek philosophers. Max quizzes me about the origin of some particular idea. He seems impressed when I attribute the concept to Epictetus—or maybe it was Erasmus. I get those two confused. Weber laughs and excuses himself. He’s probably going to catch up with Eric.</p>
<p>Out of the blue, Max asks if I’d be interested in experiencing an altered state of consciousness. The answer is, of course, yes. </p>
<p>So, we leave the alcove of the lobby for the relative privacy of the men’s room. From a small pill box, Max dumps a few white tablets onto the vanity. Then, he produces some electrodes. That’s right—electrodes. This looks promising. He asks if I am allergic to any medications. I say that I’m not even though I do have some drug allergies. He must have read my mind because he immediately crumbles one of the pills, mashes it into a paste with the help of a water droplet, and rubs the mixture on my inner wrist—which becomes irritated almost immediately. “I guess you’ll have to take a lower dose,” he says. That sounds a bit risky, but who cares. If anything gets out of hand, there’s a doctor in the building. Probably.</p>
<p>So, we both ingest what I assume is some form of black label narcotic. Then Max explains to me that we need to attach the electrodes to the sides of our foreheads—just above the temples. I’ve used TENS for physical therapy before, so this doesn’t alarm me at all. Plus, I’m curious about transdermal cranial stimulation, and this seems like a great time to jump into the deep end of that pool. I’m starting to piece it all together: the combination of the substance and transdermal cranial stimulation will simulate some sort of psychedelic or hallucinogenic experience. Here we go.</p>
<p>We calmly leave the restroom—sporting the latest in electrode fashion—and return to the cushioned chairs at the end of the lobby. I’m facing the wall; Max faces the lobby. No one seems to be paying attention. Great. He instructs me to close my eyes and relax into the chair, then turn the knob on the pocket-sized device connected to the electrodes until I start to <em>zone out.</em> I’ll know when I reach that point, he says. I slowly begin to turn the dial, and sure enough, I start to feel somewhat kinesthetically removed from the situation and I’m not able to visualize anything in my mind. It’s hard to describe, but it was like someone turned off my imaginative faculties—like a black screen in my head. Interestingly enough, I can still hear Max speaking.</p>
<p>He’s describing his first visuals, but I’m only halfway listening because I’m a bit frustrated that nothing really cool is happening for me yet. Maybe it’s the lower dose. Then, out of nowhere, I see in my mind something like a photo in a frame. It’s a picture of dark water with purple highlights and columns of rock standing in a small lake. Not exactly mind blowing, but it’s a start. I describe this out loud, and Max tells me to make it black and white, which I am able to do with a minimum of mental effort. Immediately after I desaturate the image, the photograph vanishes and a new scene emerges that feels much closer. </p>
<p>I’m not quite immersed in the scene, but I feel as though I’m right on the edge. The experience is of me climbing to the top of a grass covered hill, and upon reaching the top of the hill, seeing a wide and respectably tall waterfall on the other side. This is more interesting, but I’m not sure it’s any better than just using my imagination without the drug electric. Once again, I make the image black and white, and it fades away. Then for a brief moment, I see the Sun in black and white before that dissolves too. </p>
<p><a href="https://svbtleusercontent.com/vi7itdwjfgrmpw.jpg"><img src="https://svbtleusercontent.com/vi7itdwjfgrmpw_small.jpg" alt="8238300404_1befa2ac89_z.jpg"></a></p>
<p>Photo: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/vidyo/8238300404">Ray Morris</a></p>
<p>There’s a short interval and then instantly I’m in the Australian outback on a perfectly clear night. I’m not actually there—my brain is still aware of that—but it’s quite convincing nonetheless. I have 360 degree access to the vision and I can move around inside of it. I stare up at the night sky and I see the stars and the Milky Way. It’s breathtaking. </p>
<p>And then the stars begin to move. </p>
<p>Everything else stays fixed, but the stars begin to move and dance, coalesce and spiral symmetrically—slowly at first and then faster and faster. That might not seem impressive to read on a page, but the experience of being in that environment is so incredible that I become giddy and start to laugh uncontrollably—in the hotel lobby. Everything must have kicked in simultaneously. And just like that, I’m now sold on this electrochemical chimera.</p>
<p>The peak experience lasts only a couple of minutes, but I am one with nature for these few moments. Then my body begins to stabilize its chemistry, and the whole thing fades away. I turn down the knob and unsnap the wires from the electrodes that are stuck to my head. Max has already done the same. He is smiling from ear to ear, as am I, and we head back to the loo where we rinse our faces, trade stories, and wipe away the sweat. Yeah, you sweat a little. But the main effect is worth the side effect. To this day, I have no idea what I ingested or where to find one of those devices. </p>
<p>Maybe it’ll be in the lecture notes.</p>
<hr>
<h1 id="2-the-secret-city_1">2. The Secret City <a class="head_anchor" href="#2-the-secret-city_1">#</a>
</h1>
<p>The flight to Russia seemed to take forever. I’m excited though, because I’ve never flown across the Atlantic. I arrive in Moscow and meet up with Brad Henderson and Max Maven. We’re all participating in the same event. There’s a full-sized van with a driver waiting to take us into the city. Off we go. There isn’t much to see in the beginning—just a few tenement buildings in the distance. Then we hit traffic. </p>
<p>Now, I’m no stranger to traffic. I know Houston traffic, Atlanta traffic, and Austin traffic (which is worse than you might imagine). I’ve even driven through New York City during rush hour. But Moscow has the absolute worst traffic imaginable. There’s a vehicle over every square inch of pavement. There are so many cars that drivers are using the four lane highway as a six lane highway. If the Russian winter wasn’t so cold, I’d open the window and touch one of the cars—just because I can.</p>
<p>After a couple of hours, we aren’t even halfway across town, so we stop for coffee. It’s a café and restaurant; we are the only customers. Everyone else must be in a vehicle on the street. Nevertheless, it’s a nice break. Then we get back into the van and continue to inch closer to our hotel. The Sun is starting to set and it is getting colder (because the van lacks heating,) so we strike up a conversation about magic theory to take our minds off of the cold. Max is prismatically insightful.</p>
<p><a href="https://svbtleusercontent.com/ongg1goz7tcdmg.jpg"><img src="https://svbtleusercontent.com/ongg1goz7tcdmg_small.jpg" alt="10420055454_ceef2465c0_z.jpg"></a></p>
<p>Photo: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/chaoticmind75/10420055454">Alexey Kljatov</a></p>
<p>Darkness sets in and the conversation dies down, and just as everyone is nodding off, we are hit from behind by a big man in a little car. Our driver parks at the point of impact—right in the middle of the massive thoroughfare. He assures us that everything will be OK and exits the vehicle to negotiate with the offender. I guess this is how it’s done—you try to reach a deal that doesn’t involve insurance, and if that doesn’t work, you call the police. This is going to be a very long day—and I have to pee.</p>
<p>I tell Max and Brad that I’m going to go find a place to relieve myself—in the middle of Russia, on the side of the interstate, knowing maybe three or four Russian words. I exit the van, carefully cross all lanes of traffic and jump over the concrete barrier into the grass. I’m still within eyesight of motorists, so I look around for an impromptu bathroom in a secluded spot, and I spot a trail leading off into the woods. Lacking common sense, I decide to follow the trail into the Russian forest at night.</p>
<p>After walking a hundred feet or so, I notice the shadows of two people approaching me, so even though I’m far enough into the woods to take care of business, I keep walking so I don’t alarm them by stopping abruptly. At this point, I am of course preparing for my imminent robbery. I left my money in the van; I hope they aren’t too upset. When they are about 30 feet away, I lock eyes with one of them. Maintain eye contact; that’s my strategy. If it’s good enough for great white shark encounters, it’s good enough for Vlad & Boris here. Needless to say, once the pair are within striking distance, they give an almost imperceptible head nod, and pass to my left. Strangers in the night. Exchanging glances.</p>
<p>The adrenaline has temporarily shut down my urge to pee, so I keep walking for half a minute or so, then turn around to check on the duo, but they’ve mysteriously vanished. Odd. So, I water the forest and return to the van. Brad immediately informs me that the grass in this part of the world is known for having some sort of disease-carrying tick or flea. This concerns me only mildly, for I’ve just thwarted an imaginary robbery, and I’m still in the afterglow of a nice pee.</p>
<p>The police arrive, the accident gets sorted out, and we’re back on the road. It takes over seven hours to go from the airport to the hotel. We could have driven from Paris to Munich in less time. Well, at least we made it. The hotel is three or four stories tall and is equipped with a tiny elevator—like something from the French Quarter of New Orleans. We’re told not to drink the tap water or shower too long. There’s a strange feeling in the midnight air. </p>
<p>The next morning, I find Max in the lounge checking his email on a tiny laptop. He’s using AOL, which is geographically amusing to me. Brad arrives. Back in the van we go. There’s one more of us now. He’s a mime and a juggler. He doesn’t look like a juggler. He looks like a fisherman. The four of us are driven out of the city, past checkpoints on back roads, and into a secret municipality on the outskirts of Moscow. </p>
<p>We are told that the city was once a Soviet secret and didn’t appear on any map until long after the Cold War ended. Even today, the people who live there almost never leave—and very few people visit. Max is dressed in loose-fitting black clothing. He looks a little like an Orthodox priest, so he turns quite a few heads.</p>
<p>For lunch, we eat some form of meat and potatoes, then stroll around the miniature city. This is the home of the Russian space program. There are statues, a museum, and training facilities for cosmonauts. A friend of mine has been living here for a metric year and has arranged this get-together to celebrate and thank the people who have helped him train for his mission.</p>
<p><a href="https://svbtleusercontent.com/9v08peucghuxa.jpg"><img src="https://svbtleusercontent.com/9v08peucghuxa_small.jpg" alt="10721041366_dc3bd8102e_z.jpg"></a></p>
<p>Photo: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/nasahqphoto/10721041366">NASA</a></p>
<p>That evening, at the community center, we stage an evening of entertainment for the proletariat and some dignitaries. There’s magic, mind reading, and fishing—I mean juggling. After the show, we drink vodka with the locals, then return to the dormitory of my astro-cosmonaut friend to eat dinner in the lobby restaurant and bar. Everyone’s having a good time. A bottle of Tawny port makes an appearance. Everyone’s having a better time. I keep the bottle—the year on the label is significant to me. </p>
<p>Things get a bit blurry here. Fast forward to the end. My flight back to the States is in just a few hours. I’m at the hotel conveniently located on the opposite side of town, and my driver is over two hours late. Brad and Max have already departed, so I have no backup plan and an expiring visa. Finally, the driver arrives—rather groggy and mildly apologetic. Last time it took us seven hours to cross the city. Hopefully this time we’ll have better luck.</p>
<p>We dart off into the city at high speed. The soundtrack for the ride is Russian pop-punk duo TATU—singing in Russian, of course. I’m in the backseat slightly worried about being pulled over and forced to pay a bribe to avoid a lengthy detainment. Thankfully, the streets are mostly abandoned in the middle of the night. Just as false dawn arrives, I see the airport in the distance. I thank the driver, give him my leftover Russian currency as a tip, and fly back to the United States—where I have a 9AM class in Constitutional Law to attend the next morning. </p>
<p>I sit in class and patiently wait for someone to ask me about my weekend.</p>
<p>//</p>
<p><strong>PS: Only one of the above stories is true.</strong> The other is nothing more than a vivid, melatonin-fueled dream that I had recently.</p>
tag:magic.davidrowyn.com,2014:Post/youtube2011-05-06T00:00:56-07:002011-05-06T00:00:56-07:00Youtube<p><a href="https://svbtleusercontent.com/hiing33pygp4xa.gif"><img src="https://svbtleusercontent.com/hiing33pygp4xa_small.gif" alt="youtube.gif"></a></p>
<p>Once upon a time, I had to perform on-the-spot at a bar in downtown Austin. I was completely unprepared, so I found a couple of rubber bands and passed them through each other as if by magic.</p>
<p>I got a pretty decent response from the trick.</p>
<p>One of the guys watching asked how I did it, and I responded, “I can’t tell you or they’ll come after me,” secretly hoping he would just forget about it. He shrugged his shoulders, pulled out phone, and in about a minute started watching a video on Youtube that explained exactly what I did. </p>
<p>So it might be surprising to hear me say that <strong>Youtube could be one of the best things to happen to magic.</strong> How? Well, let’s step back for a moment and think of Youtube and the Internet as a whole in a wider context.</p>
<blockquote class="short">
<p>Paradoxically, the greatest fear of many magicians is being exposed as a charlatan.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Youtube, like a hundred Masked Magicians, facilitates this exposure on an instantaneous and personal level, and for this it’s disliked and even feared. But, have we really been exposed <em>instantaneously?</em> Hardly.</p>
<p>It all started back in the year 1584, when a man named Scot decided that it would be a good idea to publish some of the magician’s secrets. This was actually a great idea—especially if you were a magician in 1584 and wanted to avoid being burned at the stake.</p>
<p>But publishing the secrets of the magician continued long after the danger of being executed for witchcraft had subsided³, and magic books and manuscripts began to be more instructional. (Even Robert-Houdin got started after accidentally discovering of one of these books.)</p>
<p>Continuing through the 19th and 20th century, more and more secrets found their way onto more and more shelves. The seeds of commercialization sprouted, and the sale of magic secrets in the form of publications became a <em>business.</em> While this business was aimed at those with a genuine interest in magic, it was inevitable that the secrets would find their way into the hands of those with a mere passing interest. After all, publication—while necessary for almost every magician reading this—is nevertheless a form of exposure.</p>
<p><strong>In other words, we’ve had 420 years of <em>increasing</em> exposure before the first video was ever uploaded to Youtube.</strong></p>
<p>So, if we can’t blame Youtube and the Internet for starting the trend of widespread exposure, can they still be at fault for the sheer accessibility of the material? As we all know, it takes only a minimum of Internet savvy to find the secret to almost any commonly performed effect—especially if one is persistent. </p>
<p>It wasn’t always this way. Many of the magicians reading this had quite a different experience when they were starting off in magic.</p>
<p>Typically, a boy of about 10 years old saw a magician at a party, found his way to 793.8 in the library, and took his pick of the three books there. (Or, alternatively, there were no magic books in his library, and he took up chess instead.) Later, the young man looked through the phone book for a magic shop. If he was lucky, there was one less than three hours away. That was the level of access at the time.</p>
<p>When a boy or girl becomes interested in magic today, they can have any product, book, or DVD delivered to their doorstep by the end of the week from one of several online outlets, and in the meantime, they can stream 100 hours of online magic video. This seems like an entirely new paradigm, and it is, but it also isn’t.</p>
<p>What we are forgetting to do is take into account the change in the <strong>meta flow of information</strong>, in other words, the flow of information more generally.</p>
<p>Back when most people were getting into magic, their parents were receiving Montgomery Wards catalogs in the mail and placing their orders by telephone or postal mail. If someone wanted to know what happened on April 15th of a specific year, they had to take a trip to the city library and spend hours looking through microfiche. Ah, the sweet aroma of microfiche. </p>
<p>Essentially, the access points for information were fewer, farther between, and temporally distant, i.e., it took some time to get to them. In decades past, the speed limit of every piece of information was much, much slower. Then, the Superhighway arrived, and ushered in the Age of Information.</p>
<p><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/jason-samfield/5329623512/" title="Shadowy Apparition"><img alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5283/5329623512_5963236f4f.jpg"></a><br><small><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/jason-samfield/5329623512/" title="Shadowy Apparition">cc licensed flickr photo</a> shared by <a href="http://flickr.com/people/jason-samfield/">Jason A. Samfield</a></small></p>
<p>Now that we understand the difference in the speed of information from past to present, it’s easier to see that Youtube fits within this new structure just like the library and magic shop did within the older structure. But, how can something <em>faster</em> be equated with something <em>slower?</em> Relativity, my dear Einstein. </p>
<p>Back in 1992 when everyone had dial-up 14.4k Internet access, it took someone two full minutes to download one picture from their family reunion. Even at that speed, they thought it was amazing how fast that photograph could go from one place to another! </p>
<p>Today, you would expect that picture instantaneously, and if it took more than a couple seconds, you would curse your Internet provider and do that thing where you click the mouse way too many times. </p>
<p>In 1992, you might have put in the hour-long effort to download 25 images one-by-one, whereas today you wouldn’t spend an hour to get 25 pictures unless they were extremely important to the “task at hand.”</p>
<p>The key word here is <strong>effort.</strong> Today, the person who wants to know the magic secret will make the same amount of effort to get it as the person who wanted the secret three decades ago―<em>not in absolute effort, but in relative effort.</em> </p>
<p>Taking a trip to the library in 1986 was about the same amount of relative effort as spending time finding the secret on the Internet is today. Yes, it took longer back then, but this wasn’t because they were putting in more relative effort, but instead related to the paradigm of information accessibility and the speed of information itself.</p>
<p>In other words, with an increase in the speed and accessibility of information, the speed at which one can access magic secrets will also increase proportionally; nevertheless, a certain threshold of internal motivation must be reached before that person is going to seek out the secret in the first place, and this amount hasn’t changed much when we account for the new speed of information.</p>
<p>If you don’t believe me, you can look at the other side of the equation. A television show from 40 years ago catered to a viewer’s attention span much differently than a show does today. This had to change to reflect the amount of <em>relative effort</em> a person is willing to make today.</p>
<p>Now, it could be argued that speed and accessibility increase exponentially when there is a “point of consolidation,” a place where everyone tends to contribute information and also seek it—a place like Youtube. </p>
<p>But this is partially a trick of centralized quantity. Magic isn’t the exception here. Not only are there more <em>magic</em> secrets available online in one place, there is more of <em>everything</em> in one place! Compare Netflix with Blockbuster, Spotify with CD Warehouse, or Zappos with Foot Locker. <strong>Magic, being in the flow of information and commerce for hundreds of years is simply following the rest of the connected, online world.</strong></p>
<p><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/edwardmusiak/5479985821/" title="warp speed"><img alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5216/5479985821_9c4b43d1ac.jpg"></a><br><small><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/edwardmusiak/5479985821/" title="warp speed">cc licensed flickr photo</a> shared by <a href="http://flickr.com/people/edwardmusiak/">zbigphotography</a></small></p>
<p>So, let’s return to the provocative idea that Youtube is one of the best things for magic. Well, “best” is a bit of hyperbole, but even still, why would Youtube and the access to secrets it represents be good for magic at all? </p>
<p>Because it challenges not only the current commercial business model of magic, but also the fundamental way in which magic is performed by many magicians. And why is it good to be challenged in this way? Because now Magic can see what it’s been up against for some time, but has chosen to ignore or explain away previously. The magic community is now informed, and so is everyone else.</p>
<p>If we continue to grow the business of magic secrets and, by extension, the population of those with arcane knowledge, there will be more exposure and even fewer secrets. But, let’s be honest, there are more and more magic enthusiasts with disposable income every day, and the commercialization of magic has made a way for a lot of great people to support their families by catering to this demographic. And what about these newcomers?</p>
<p>Most, by virtue of their being new, do not have a strong respect for the secrets of the craft. <strong>But, did anyone try to fix this before selling them $500 in merchandise?</strong> The guy who gets the latest Ellusionist, Penguin, or theory11 products is probably not deliberately violating an oath when he posts the un-boxing of his newly purchased magic tricks, and proceeds to reveal in detail the inner workings of each one; he’s just fitting into the world as he knows it. </p>
<p>He’s not really all that different from the people who reveal their friends’ secrets on Facebook, publish the secret formula for Coca Cola, or show you how to jailbreak your iPhone. And, he’s not that different from the guy in 1975 who went around after the magic show telling everyone how it was done.</p>
<blockquote class="short">
<p>The Age of Information is an Age of Revelation.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Whether it’s personal privacy, corporate insider information, government secrets, or magic tricks, it is all being revealed more than ever. I’m not equating all of those, but they all fit with the idea of an Age of Revelation, and contribute to the general zeitgeist. </p>
<p>In light of this, should it be surprising when someone looks up the secret you just refused to tell them? In their mind, how dare you withhold something like a secret to a magic trick? After all, they have been freely given the secrets to everything from the private lives of celebrities to the national secrets of world governments, and here you are telling them they can’t know how the card got to the top of the deck? </p>
<p>This is the new entitlement. </p>
<p>Now we’re starting to see how what seems like a big deal to our inner circles is viewed as trivial to those outside those circles, and exposure doesn’t have the same gravity out there.</p>
<p>As it relates to magic, this exposure will occasionally make its way to Youtube. <strong>It doesn’t even require an exposé-style video.</strong> Users can simply comment under the video of a performance with a detailed explanation, and a magical thing will happen. That comment will get voted up by other readers until it is one of the first few comments displayed underneath the video. </p>
<p>This collective “Thank You” from the online community is received as positive reinforcement by the user, and that leads to more comments of the sort. Now, I don’t think all of these commentators reveal the secret to be malicious. They think it’s what they are supposed to do when they see a magic trick. See the trick; figure out how it’s done; share. That last step is the most recent addition, fits within the new sharing movement, and explains a lot of Youtube exposure videos and comments.</p>
<p>Finally, let’s look at the challenge Youtube gives the performer. This might be better framed as the question, “What survives without the secret?” You must have an answer to this question if you want to be anything more than a footnote in someone’s lecture notes. </p>
<p>When I was performing on-the-spot at the bar in Austin that night, I hadn’t answered the question. I’m still answering it even though I feel the answer is, and must be, the story.</p>
<p>There is a distinction, however, that centers on whether you allow the spectator to write their own story (e.g., David Blaine, Daniel Garcia) or you construct most of the narrative (e.g., Eric Mead, Barrie Richardson). That distinction could be an entire essay of its own, and for the record, I’m a big fan of both. The former tends to be more visual, direct, and concise; the latter is felt more than seen, more subtle, and in-depth. Staccato and legato—both can resonate.</p>
<p><strong>You do not have all of the secrets anymore, but you never did.</strong> It’s not that your secrets are revealed more often than they were with the post-performance chatter and inquiries of yesteryear, but now it’s more in your face. So, what do you do? Accept it.</p>
<blockquote class="short">
<p>Youtube simply is.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>It is unstoppable. Some will protest, saying that the passing down of secrets from one to another sustained magic before publishing, and advocate returning to this mentor/apprentice relationship. While this can work, and is working, in individual cases, this is not a practical solution for the whole world of magic. </p>
<p>The collective effort and sacrifice necessary to even significantly slow the demise of the magician’s secret is far too great to be considered feasible. You may wish it were otherwise, but it would be naïve to think it can be reversed.</p>
<p>In the future, you may even see someone filming your performance with their shiny new iPhone 16¹, where a special app will automatically match the video to similar videos online instantly. Be prepared.</p>
<p>So, in a world where your secret may have a shelf-life of hours or minutes, what will be your unique selling proposition? How can you infuse mystery into your performances without relying on the secret alone? What are you really trying to accomplish as a magician? Are you wanting to be seen as someone special whose powers give him power over others? If so, you will be painfully exposed as impotent. But, if you choose aim to connect with an honest and genuine story that takes a magical form, you will never have to worry about being exposed for who you really are.</p>
<p>The real secrets are safe in a special place, waiting.</p>
<p>//</p>
<p><small>¹The original said iPhone 7, but I might have overestimated the speed of app development a bit.</small></p>
<p><small>The original version of this essay was published on <a href="http://www.posterous.com/" target="_new">Posterous</a> in May 2011 and can be found in the January 2012 issue of <em>MAGIC Magazine.</em></small></p>
tag:magic.davidrowyn.com,2014:Post/11-stage-props-to-vanish-in-20112010-10-12T18:30:51-07:002010-10-12T18:30:51-07:0011 Stage Props To Vanish In 2011<p>If every comedian told the same basic jokes in the same basic way, the only people who would continue to be excited about going to comedy clubs would be the people who continued to enjoy the same old jokes.</p>
<p><strong>In magic, some tricks and props have become largely outdated, grossly overused, or commonly done in poor taste.</strong> What’s more: some are no longer deceptive. The fundamental mystery is now well-known to non-magicians. (With sites like Youtube, this will grow significantly, but that’s a discussion for another day.)</p>
<p><a href="https://svbtleusercontent.com/lmodeigwoao9w.jpg"><img src="https://svbtleusercontent.com/lmodeigwoao9w_small.jpg" alt="4378020475_b2f799f903.jpg"></a></p>
<p>Photo: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/blackcountrymuseums/">Black Country Museums</a></p>
<p>I made this list while attending a convention a few weeks ago. It is by no means all-inclusive. While I may poke fun occasionally, it is not intended to be destructively critical; that is, I have no desire to belittle anyone personally. Rather, I am simply suggesting there might be better magic to be considered in place of the material mentioned, and I would be thrilled to see modern performance and those seeking to present modern (or even post-modern) magic evolve. And yes, in the right hands, there will be exceptions to nearly every item.</p>
<blockquote class="short">
<p>The problem with saying there are exceptions, though, is that everyone believes they must be one of them, too.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>So, now that I’ve written some paragraphs for people to skim over, let’s begin:</p>
<p><strong>11) The Guillotine & Disecto</strong></p>
<p>When Simon Drake did the guillotine for Iron Maiden’s <em>Raising Hell</em> concert, it fit perfectly in that context. When Neil Patrick Harris performed the same piece it on <em>Ellen</em>, it didn’t fit as well within the context of her viewing audience (though he did the trick very well—-perhaps too well.) But, when the average magician does the trick, it falls flat. Why? Occasionally, it’s because the magician is performing this for children, but more often, it is because the performer invites the spectator to be the one in the apparatus. Usually, this is embarrassing, and it’s the kind of thing that adds to peoples’ fear of being selected by a magician—which is the kind of thing that adds to peoples’ general dislike of magic acts.</p>
<p>Also: Sword Thru Neck, and similar effects.</p>
<p><strong>10) Cigarettes & Pipes</strong></p>
<p>This is not a question of whether or not smokers have the right to smoke. It’s simply acknowledging that, in today’s society, tobacco magic isn’t seen with favor and represents what is becoming <em>passé.</em> The cigarettes and pipes become a mental obstacle for the audience to overcome before they can appreciate the magic, so why even put yourself in that position?</p>
<p>As an example, I love seeing bubbles filled with smoke, but I can also see how a parent with a child in the audience might not like the juxtaposition of a fun kids activity like smoking being paired with the dangers of bubbles. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.</p>
<p><strong>9) Zombie</strong></p>
<p>Firstly, the floating ball is a great effect—a large, heavy ball floats without any visible means of support. Well, in theory. After seeing it done a handful of times, audience members with half a brain begin to call it “The Ball On Stick Trick.”</p>
<p>Enter Tommy Wonder, who put the final nail in the coffin with his groundbreaking work using elegant mechanics and proper motivation to restore the essence of the effect. Nevertheless, the so-called “classic” version still roams the Earth—which, given the title, shouldn’t be too surprising.</p>
<p><strong>8) Canes</strong></p>
<p>How many formal events have you been to recently where young gentlemen carried canes? Once upon a time, your answer would be greater than zero. Twice upon the same time, canes were rightly considered modern magic; now they are anachronistic. That said, I have seen David Copperfield and Ray Anderson perform beautiful dancing cane routines. Exceptions.</p>
<p>Not an exception, however, is the semi-professional teenage magician who waltzes out waving a silk handkerchief (as is the custom), transforms this scarf into a slightly curved cane with a muffled snap, twirls the cane as per the instructions, discards the cane immediately, and then proceeds to do something with laser lights.</p>
<p><strong>7) Silk Magic</strong></p>
<p>Yes, that looks like an entire genre up there. Unlike others on this list, my argument is not that silk magic is overused and outdated—though one could fashion compelling evidence for this. Instead, I contend that the use of <em>more than two silk handkerchiefs</em> in a trick might damage the perception of the performer and his magic.</p>
<p>Of all the objects that have the potential to make a sophisticated member of the audience (whether correctly or incorrectly) see the performer as second-rate and his magic as being exclusively for children, a bundle of silk handkerchiefs in the saturated colors kids enjoy might do the trick. (Interestingly, the presence of large amounts of silk was once considered luxurious, and often enhanced a performance rather than cheapened it.)</p>
<p>The use of one or two silk scarves, however, carries much less risk of the above. Think Billy McComb, Vito Lupo, and others.</p>
<p>Here’s an exception with a twist: Slydini loved the production of silk scarves and the silk fountain. He thought it looked beautiful, and in his hands, some thought it did. That was also nearly 40 years ago. Today, it may be wise to leave the silk fountain to the legacies of those like Slydini—unless your name is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LirOK7gFcTI">Yumi Nakajima</a>.*</p>
<p><strong>6) The Anderson Newspaper Tear</strong></p>
<p>Let me be clear—I’m referring to a specific method and presentation, the essence of which can be seen easily on <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFdW3ZhMR7M">YouTube</a>. It was an excellent trick when it was introduced, but this handling has become too common and may not be as mysterious to non-magicians as we’d like to think.</p>
<p>A gentle man walks to center stage and tells us that he intends to tear his own newspaper to shreds. The audience, understandably, gasps. He then proceeds to do so while telling a story that is most likely untrue. Having torn the paper into nice rectangular pieces, he then gets a bit angry with them. This seems to work, for soon after a whole newspaper instantly (more-or-less) appears between his hands—fully restored and only a bit heavier for the whole ordeal. As he carefully thumbs through the three pages, it becomes clear to us that he lives in a town with very little news.</p>
<p>Now compare the above to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rWcCuNYcrc">Robert Harbin’s version</a>. His movements are motivated by solving a problem, the restoration looks perfect, and there’s no unnecessary overselling before or after. Furthermore, people in Harbin’s day would actually <em>be</em> reading the newspaper on the subway, instead of texting and watching viral videos.</p>
<p>Finally, the overuse of the effect alone should be enough to give pause to its inclusion. If that’s not enough, remember that the newspaper is an object that may very well be outdated soon.</p>
<p><strong>5) Balloon to Dove & Dove Cage Vanish</strong></p>
<p>I feel the most elegant and mysterious dove magic is done with a minimum of props.</p>
<p>Balloon to dove is a strange item. The performer inflates a balloon, clamps it to a very suspicious looking tray (one much thicker than what is needed to hold the enormous weight of a balloon), and <em>Voila!</em>—traumatized bird! Perhaps someone wanted to charge an extra fifty bucks for having a show with animals, and this prop was created to facilitate this. Nevertheless, I don’t think it’s very deceptive to adults. When done for kids, it’s received well, but <em>it’s the bird</em> that is getting the strong reaction, not the trick. If you doubt this, just skip the trick and pull the bird out of a paper sack. You’ll get the same enthusiastic reaction.</p>
<p>Regarding the cage vanish, I just don’t believe it is necessary to conclude every dove act with the vanish a half dozen birds in a cage—a cage unlike any the average person has ever seen. Plus, to return to a common theme, everyone does this. When everyone is doing the same thing in their performance, rather than be just another in the flock, wouldn’t it be more creative to do something different? Many magicians only want to do the tricks everyone else is doing. That’s fine when you aren’t trying to market yourself as a professional. When you are, however, you’ll want to stand out a bit more—be more ivory-billed woodpecker than dove.</p>
<p>Also: Balloon to Bunny, Doves From Air &c.</p>
<p><strong>4) Records & CDs</strong></p>
<p>While CD’s are still familiar, they are quickly becoming outdated. Now, people have iPods and Zunes. I’m just kidding; no one has a Zune. Anyhow, the reason why these props worked well when they did was that they were newer technology to the culture of their time. Now, using records or CD’s in your act would be like using a CRT monitor, a VCR, or a line from a Robert Orben book.</p>
<p><strong>3) Underwear</strong></p>
<p>Just recently, I saw a performer coerce his volunteer to get half undressed on stage. I find this disrespectful to everyone present. Of all the magic you can do, why do such crude magic?</p>
<p>Hopefully, you’ve been performing long enough to have gone through this phase, but I still see magicians doing tricks with a bras or boxer shorts. Even if you were to do the effect to yourself, a la Professor Cheer, it still gets only cheap laughs. I suppose as long as it stays in the catalog, people will still buy it and perform it.</p>
<p>Don’t get me wrong, though. Please wear underwear whilst performing.</p>
<p><strong>2) Capes & Top Hats</strong></p>
<p>If you are playing the part of Mandrake, you can ignore this one. Otherwise, remember that in the 21st century, people do not generally wear top hats or capes, for they have fallen out of fashion—like legwarmers, Crystal Pepsi, and the color mauve.</p>
<p>As a magician, were you to be seen wearing a top hat, it would be expected of you to be doing an act as a magician of that bygone era, or perhaps joining a tea party (no, not that tea party). Were you to be seen sporting a cape, it would be expected of you to perform for very young children … or fly.</p>
<p><strong>1) The Linking Rings</strong></p>
<p>The classics are not immune; I realize and accept that some will disagree.</p>
<p>I’ve seen scores of linking ring routines; so has everyone else. A handful were terrific. Nevertheless, while the beauty of the effect may still remain in the hands of a skilled performer, the fundamental secret is out: one has a hole. I know that; you know that, and your neighbor knows that. Because of this, not only does the performer face the snap dismissal of “I’ve seen this one before,” she also has to increase the volume of the music to drown out the murmur of everyone, in unison, whispering to their neighbor, “I know how this one’s done.”</p>
<p>Unless I were confident in overcoming these challenges, I would think thrice.</p>
<p><strong>In Closing</strong></p>
<p>“Where is the mutilated parasol?” Annemann asks. “The Passe-Passe bottles?” another inquires. Well, for the sake of being practical, ubiquity played heavily into the criteria for inclusion. While these are two effects that may be better set aside, I just don’t see them often enough to put them on the list. Your experience may differ.</p>
<p><strong>Clearly, these are not hard-and-fast axioms to be applied 100 percent of the time.</strong> They are simply intended to be a perspective that may serve to guide your consideration of how certain material might be perceived by today’s audience.</p>
<p>Finally, I cannot stress enough what I mentioned at the outset; that is, much of what I’ve written is aimed at a specific or common presentation using the items mentioned, and not intended to eradicate every use of the props listed (with one or two exceptions). And remember, I’m writing this for those who wish to present themselves as <em>modern</em> magicians—not for those who have other characters.</p>
<p>//</p>