From BoingBoing.net, the sleight of hand artistry of Cyril
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Saturday, August 25, 2012
I Break for Science
Anytime there is talk about how easy it is to fool the brain, they have my attention.
What makes this relevant for this blog is their discussion about creating illusions of time--time misdirection, if you will. That they have proven in the lab something that magicians have built careers on is in and of itself interesting, but that that same principle might now be used to treat people living with schizophrenia has literally caused my worlds to collide.
So, stop what you're doing and have a listen.
Monday, July 30, 2012
I Need Time to Process
I had seen a travelling show some years ago when they came through Columbus and I have, as I have demonstrated throughout this blog, been following their work, but nothing compares to seeing them live. It is to witness mastery.
I will write more later--sorry about your luck--but let me say that if you can, you should get out to Las Vegas and see a great piece of theatre that has some good magic in it.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
When All is Said and Done
I have been away from this blog for too long. It's not that I ran out of things to say, it was that I never have seemed to have the time to say them.
For my birthday, I got a copy of "Maestro" the 4-disc celebration of the work of Argentine poet Rene Levand.
You won't find his work in the poetry section of Barnes &Noble, but rather one the shelves and websites of your favorite magic suppliers.
Levand is a magician in the same way that a Lamborghini is a car: while the props may be familiar, in his hand the cards, the crumbs, even the tea cup become something more. They become transparent. They are the means to convey an idea and each idea in turn becomes part of a larger philosophy.
I wrote elsewhere about the poetry of Steinmeyer's Origami illusion as performed by David Copperfield. The right effect presented in the right way and under the right conditions becomes more than the sum of its parts and it transcends the "catch me if you can" performer-audience dynamic. It is so secondary to the experience of watching the piece that thoughts of "how" are drowned out and washed away. It is almost as though the surprise of discovering that, as an audience member, you are still capable of being amazed drowns out everything else.
Levand is able to do the same thing without the Peter Gabriel, without the atmospherics, without the beautiful assistants and without his right hand.
I make this association not to compare and contrast performers--each are masters of their media--but to suggest something of the impact that is possible when talent and creativity are brought to the service of a singular vision.
I don't remember how I first came across Levand and his work, but I recall seeing a performance of "It Can't Be Done Any Slower"--a six-card Oil and Water routine--and being completely captvated by this man who looked like a beloved family friend and, even though limited by working through a translator, was able to convey a casual charm that made the audience hang on his every word.
On the DVD, Levand talks about his inspirations. He makes reference to great composers and other magicians, a poet and Mae West.
In translation, he says he remembered a quote of hers that informs his work: "The thing is not what you say, but in how you say it. The thing is not what you do, but in how you do it. And, especially how it looks when it is said and done."
And while her selection as one of his influences may seem strange when placed next to Mozart, Bach and Beethoven, her philosophy is most especially relevant for magicians.
The props and techniques used by the close-up magician are relatively few in number and many performers tend to visit the same "classic" plots in their performances so what then is there to differentiate one performer from the other? What makes one an artist and the other a craftsman?
I once had a colleague who taught film theory and criticism. He kept a sign in his office that said something to the effect of "And what is the audience doing during all of this?"
That is the question that all artists need to answer. Whatever your medium, it is far too easy to become seduced by techniques. Learning the latest knuckle-busting move is a challenge and, once mastered, can become the go-to tool for every situation irrespective of whether or not it's the right tool.
I heard one account of the famous encounter between Harry Houdini and the legendary Dai Vernon in which Vernon is said to have fooled Houdini with a card trick even after repeating it 7 times in a row. In this account, the speaker says that Vernon, an expert in sleight of hand, performed an Ambitious Card effect using a gaff. No sleights, but rather the genius of the printer's art in order to fool the one-time "King of Cards."
I don't know if it's true and it really doesn't matter. It illustrates the idea that effects are designed for an audience and technique, while important, is secondary to "how it looks when it is said and done."
In his mid-eighties, Levand continues to adapt his technique as he experiences greater and greater physical limitations. That he has osteoarthritis in his hand has meant that he has changed how he performs and has become "more artistic."
The DVD set is aptly named "Maestro" because it not only documents a life's work, it also is full of many important lessons that can only be learned from a perceptive and gifted teacher.
More than a simple recipe book full of tricks, "Maestro" will guide the viewer toward being a better artist by providing them with a way to approach their magic in a more thoughtful manner.
I am grateful to Luis de Matos for producing this testament to the art of magic.
For my birthday, I got a copy of "Maestro" the 4-disc celebration of the work of Argentine poet Rene Levand.
You won't find his work in the poetry section of Barnes &Noble, but rather one the shelves and websites of your favorite magic suppliers.
Levand is a magician in the same way that a Lamborghini is a car: while the props may be familiar, in his hand the cards, the crumbs, even the tea cup become something more. They become transparent. They are the means to convey an idea and each idea in turn becomes part of a larger philosophy.
I wrote elsewhere about the poetry of Steinmeyer's Origami illusion as performed by David Copperfield. The right effect presented in the right way and under the right conditions becomes more than the sum of its parts and it transcends the "catch me if you can" performer-audience dynamic. It is so secondary to the experience of watching the piece that thoughts of "how" are drowned out and washed away. It is almost as though the surprise of discovering that, as an audience member, you are still capable of being amazed drowns out everything else.
Levand is able to do the same thing without the Peter Gabriel, without the atmospherics, without the beautiful assistants and without his right hand.
I make this association not to compare and contrast performers--each are masters of their media--but to suggest something of the impact that is possible when talent and creativity are brought to the service of a singular vision.
I don't remember how I first came across Levand and his work, but I recall seeing a performance of "It Can't Be Done Any Slower"--a six-card Oil and Water routine--and being completely captvated by this man who looked like a beloved family friend and, even though limited by working through a translator, was able to convey a casual charm that made the audience hang on his every word.
On the DVD, Levand talks about his inspirations. He makes reference to great composers and other magicians, a poet and Mae West.
In translation, he says he remembered a quote of hers that informs his work: "The thing is not what you say, but in how you say it. The thing is not what you do, but in how you do it. And, especially how it looks when it is said and done."
And while her selection as one of his influences may seem strange when placed next to Mozart, Bach and Beethoven, her philosophy is most especially relevant for magicians.
The props and techniques used by the close-up magician are relatively few in number and many performers tend to visit the same "classic" plots in their performances so what then is there to differentiate one performer from the other? What makes one an artist and the other a craftsman?
I once had a colleague who taught film theory and criticism. He kept a sign in his office that said something to the effect of "And what is the audience doing during all of this?"
That is the question that all artists need to answer. Whatever your medium, it is far too easy to become seduced by techniques. Learning the latest knuckle-busting move is a challenge and, once mastered, can become the go-to tool for every situation irrespective of whether or not it's the right tool.
I heard one account of the famous encounter between Harry Houdini and the legendary Dai Vernon in which Vernon is said to have fooled Houdini with a card trick even after repeating it 7 times in a row. In this account, the speaker says that Vernon, an expert in sleight of hand, performed an Ambitious Card effect using a gaff. No sleights, but rather the genius of the printer's art in order to fool the one-time "King of Cards."
I don't know if it's true and it really doesn't matter. It illustrates the idea that effects are designed for an audience and technique, while important, is secondary to "how it looks when it is said and done."
In his mid-eighties, Levand continues to adapt his technique as he experiences greater and greater physical limitations. That he has osteoarthritis in his hand has meant that he has changed how he performs and has become "more artistic."
The DVD set is aptly named "Maestro" because it not only documents a life's work, it also is full of many important lessons that can only be learned from a perceptive and gifted teacher.
More than a simple recipe book full of tricks, "Maestro" will guide the viewer toward being a better artist by providing them with a way to approach their magic in a more thoughtful manner.
I am grateful to Luis de Matos for producing this testament to the art of magic.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
A Tourist in the House of Magic
One of the best writers working in magic is also a working magician. His name is Jamy Ian Swiss. Mr. Swiss periodically reviews books for Genii magazine and, in their most recent issue, he reviewed "Fooling Houdini" by Alex Stone.
To provide some context, let me first share a post about Mr. Stone's book, including a video promo, as it was presented on BoingBoing.net.
Now, let me share Mr. Swiss's review as posted on the Genii forum. The review is posted as part of a discussion regarding the book, so you may have to scroll up to find it. It was posted by Genii-in-Chief Richard Kaufman.
Finally, historian, magician, actor Ricky Jay wrote this review for the Wall Street Journal.
I started to write this blog in part because I was inspired by the work of Mr. Swiss and driven by the idea that I should write about something I know and which holds my interest. I post this sequence about Mr. Stone's book because I wonder whether I am not guilty of the same kind of intellectual tourism.
There is no question but that it is fun to imagine oneself on the side of the angels when it comes to picking on a so-called outsider who imagines himself worthy of entry into one of magic's most prestigeous competitions and then publishes a book disclosing tricks and techniques. It is, however, a form of looting, of saying "are too!" after the primary combatants have staked out their territory.
Truth to tell, I am not so sure where I stand when it comes to the disclosure of secrets. I have made a point of not doing so in this blog because that was never the point. I have also written elsewhere that being aware of techniques and methods makes watching the performances of true masters all the more impressive. It is much the same as how having a visceral sense of what it takes to make a piece of wood do what you want can make you really appreciate the artistry of fine cabinetry.
Does that mean that all secrets to all magic tricks should be disclosed?
Absolutely not.
I don't think that disclosing trade secrets to inflate book sales or television ratings is by any means justified. It would be like staging car accidents for the benefit of rubberneckers. Having said that, I think that there was some merit in the rationalization used by Val Valentino in his role as the Masked Magician. His position is that in disclosing techniques and methods he is hoping to push the art forward, to motivate magicians to create new effects and new methods.
Taken at face value, it would be tough to argue that any endeavor does not benefit from periodic self-examination and reinvention.
Magic will survive this dust-up just as it survived the publication of earlier "exposes" such as "Great Magician's Tricks" in 1931 and "The Discoverie of Witchcraft" in 1584.
But there may be a bigger point missed in this conversation.
As I have said before, in and of themselves, the technologies used by magicians to accomplish their effects are uninteresting. Whereas one might imagine complex technologies employed to accomplish a particular effect, it is more often the case that it is unremarkable--more on the order of a bit of thread and a piece of wax than computers and lasers. And this might explain why, once the secret is disclosed, the trick as a "trick" loses its appeal.
While we may all be familiar with thread and wax and mirrors, we lack the skill and experience to combine these items in a way to create a magical effect. Revealing the secret does not close the gap between magician and audience member, it makes it wider. As Valentino says in the video, the "secret" of any magic trick is only one small part of the "magic." In the same way, Mr. Jay writes in his review," that a performance is often the product of a collaboration between a variety of artists and technicians in addition to the performer, the "secret" is but one link in the supply chain that stretches from the conception to the performance of any effect.
Whether performed on a street corner or in a purpose-built venue, magic is a theatrical form where context, light, shadow, sound, choreography, form and textures combine to create the illusion.
In the same issue of Genii wherein the Swiss review of Mr. Stone's book was published, there is an interview with Spanish magician Miguel Angel Gea. Early on, he imagines a time when magic competitions such as the FISM contest that Mr. Stone entered will have only one category in which all performances will be judged: theatricality.
"Fooling Houdini" is a title designed to attract the casual book buyer, but it is also a reference to an encounter between the renowned escapologist Houdini and the Canadian magician Dai Vernon. Depending on the account, it is said that Houdini was boasting of his expertise with cards and how he began his career billing himself as "King of Cards." Vernon, who made a lifelong study of card techniques, proceded to show Houdini an Ambitious Card effect that complete fooled the king seven times.
While the trick used to fool Houdini was not new, Vernon's approach, the unique way in which his skills as a performer meshed with his skills as a technician, made the effect into magic. This is magic's biggest and only real secret. You cannot pick up a pack of cards and go directly to magic's "Mount Olympus" expecting to be crowned King of Cards. To expect otherwise is to truly engage in magical thinking.
To provide some context, let me first share a post about Mr. Stone's book, including a video promo, as it was presented on BoingBoing.net.
Now, let me share Mr. Swiss's review as posted on the Genii forum. The review is posted as part of a discussion regarding the book, so you may have to scroll up to find it. It was posted by Genii-in-Chief Richard Kaufman.
Finally, historian, magician, actor Ricky Jay wrote this review for the Wall Street Journal.
I started to write this blog in part because I was inspired by the work of Mr. Swiss and driven by the idea that I should write about something I know and which holds my interest. I post this sequence about Mr. Stone's book because I wonder whether I am not guilty of the same kind of intellectual tourism.
There is no question but that it is fun to imagine oneself on the side of the angels when it comes to picking on a so-called outsider who imagines himself worthy of entry into one of magic's most prestigeous competitions and then publishes a book disclosing tricks and techniques. It is, however, a form of looting, of saying "are too!" after the primary combatants have staked out their territory.
Truth to tell, I am not so sure where I stand when it comes to the disclosure of secrets. I have made a point of not doing so in this blog because that was never the point. I have also written elsewhere that being aware of techniques and methods makes watching the performances of true masters all the more impressive. It is much the same as how having a visceral sense of what it takes to make a piece of wood do what you want can make you really appreciate the artistry of fine cabinetry.
Does that mean that all secrets to all magic tricks should be disclosed?
Absolutely not.
I don't think that disclosing trade secrets to inflate book sales or television ratings is by any means justified. It would be like staging car accidents for the benefit of rubberneckers. Having said that, I think that there was some merit in the rationalization used by Val Valentino in his role as the Masked Magician. His position is that in disclosing techniques and methods he is hoping to push the art forward, to motivate magicians to create new effects and new methods.
Taken at face value, it would be tough to argue that any endeavor does not benefit from periodic self-examination and reinvention.
Magic will survive this dust-up just as it survived the publication of earlier "exposes" such as "Great Magician's Tricks" in 1931 and "The Discoverie of Witchcraft" in 1584.
But there may be a bigger point missed in this conversation.
As I have said before, in and of themselves, the technologies used by magicians to accomplish their effects are uninteresting. Whereas one might imagine complex technologies employed to accomplish a particular effect, it is more often the case that it is unremarkable--more on the order of a bit of thread and a piece of wax than computers and lasers. And this might explain why, once the secret is disclosed, the trick as a "trick" loses its appeal.
While we may all be familiar with thread and wax and mirrors, we lack the skill and experience to combine these items in a way to create a magical effect. Revealing the secret does not close the gap between magician and audience member, it makes it wider. As Valentino says in the video, the "secret" of any magic trick is only one small part of the "magic." In the same way, Mr. Jay writes in his review," that a performance is often the product of a collaboration between a variety of artists and technicians in addition to the performer, the "secret" is but one link in the supply chain that stretches from the conception to the performance of any effect.
Whether performed on a street corner or in a purpose-built venue, magic is a theatrical form where context, light, shadow, sound, choreography, form and textures combine to create the illusion.
In the same issue of Genii wherein the Swiss review of Mr. Stone's book was published, there is an interview with Spanish magician Miguel Angel Gea. Early on, he imagines a time when magic competitions such as the FISM contest that Mr. Stone entered will have only one category in which all performances will be judged: theatricality.
While the trick used to fool Houdini was not new, Vernon's approach, the unique way in which his skills as a performer meshed with his skills as a technician, made the effect into magic. This is magic's biggest and only real secret. You cannot pick up a pack of cards and go directly to magic's "Mount Olympus" expecting to be crowned King of Cards. To expect otherwise is to truly engage in magical thinking.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Everything You Need to Know
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Meeting the Elusive Moth
The greatest trick ever performed by a magician is to inspire others to take up the art. Each of us who has ever dabbled with a Svengali deck or the Ball and Vase has been engaged by seeing another performer. While the bulk of the audience may be fooled, there are always a few in every audience who become motivated to learn the secrets and possibly even become performers themselves.
In my case, it was from seeing Magic Tom on local TV in Montreal, seeing Mark Wilson on the talk shows and watching The Amazing Kreskin who, in those days, had a weekly TV show. For those who have come after me, those inspirations might be David Blaine and David Copperfield. For those who came before, it was for several generations, Blackstone.
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| http://www.otrcat.com/z/blackstonesignede.gif |
Blackstone was a popular name because he put on a popular, fast moving show that was a hit with children and their parents. Perhaps the most accurate measure of his popularity was that he became the subject of both a comic book series and a weekly radio program.
Blackstone represents a link to the days of Thurston and Houdini, of Carter and Kellar.
One of the classic effects in magic is the Linking Rings. Like the soliloquies of Shakespeare, this is one of those effects that tests the mettle of every performer. Though well-known, the effect still has the capacity to inspire and amaze. Done poorly, the Rings can speak volumes about missed opportunities and misunderstanding.
The Linking Rings are also an appropriate metaphor for the history and culture of magic itself. Each period in magic is its own closed loop that is seemingly impossible to penetrate. These rings overlap with each new generation and there inevitably arrives students who seek out the wisdom of their predecessors and use that knowledge to create their own period. And like that, the rings become linked.
Lance Burton promoted his show as being of a tradition that stretched back through Lee Grabel to Dante, to Howard Thurstan to Harry Kellar to Alexander Hermann.
* * *
I recently attended Magi-Fest in Columbus.
For 81 years, magicians from all over the middle of the country have gathered in Columbus to talk magic and learn from its leading practitioners. There is camaraderie, competition, conversation and lots and lots of magic.
A focal point of this, or any other magic convention, is the dealer room. This is an opportunity to sample the wares of leading manufacturers and resellers from around the country. In the absence of access to a real brick and mortar magic shop, this is when you can actually put your hands on the latest and the newest that you may have only read about online or in your favorite magazine.
The days are filled with lectures by visiting experts and the evenings are taken up with performances.
At the Friday night show, a number of notables were introduced from the audience and this was how I learned that Adele Friel Rhindress was at the convention.
Adele was an assistant with Blackstone during the last years of his two-and-a-half-hour evening show, is one of only 5 people from that period who is still alive and, as she said, "the only one who's talking." She feels a real responsibility to make sure that history records the experience accurately.
When they introduced her from the stage I was impressed, but I thought that I would never get a chance to meet her, or talk to her. I am a shy person.
The next afternoon--the last day of the convention--and after making a final pass through the dealer room during which I purchased a copy of Adele's memoir from Abbott's Magic, a company that was founded by Percy Abbott who used to work with Blackstone, I went into the common area to examine my purchases and figure out what session I would go to next.
Across the room from me, I noticed Adele seated at a table with maybe four conventioneers. She was signing copies of her book and telling stories.
One of the guys at the table was keeping an eye on a video camera that was running in the background.
They were getting their books signed. I would like to have my book signed. How could I ask her to sign my book?
She was right there, a link to another ring and I didn't know how to ask her to sign my book.
Should I ask? Is it too rude?
I packed up my purchases and walked across the foyer to stand at her table.
She was in the middle of a story and I didn't want to interrupt.
I stood there a little longer.
I think she noticed me and was about to speak to me when a couple of guys came out of the dealer room and she knew one of them who quickly introduced her to the other and they were off into a whole different conversation.
I decided to go get a coffee.
When I came back, Adele was still there talking and signing.
What to do?
Finally, I got up the gumption to approach one of the other guys who was waiting to have his book signed and asked him if it would be too rude to have her sign mine.
How pathetic is that?
He invited me to join the line.
As it turned out, Adele was not just repeating the same anonymous inscription from one book to the next, but rather she was interviewing each person to find out about their connection to magic so that she could write something personal in each one. And in the course of each of these mini-interviews she would connect to some aspect of her personal story and she would share an anecdote either from her days with the Blackstone show, or from her re-entry to the world of magic.
She talked about being energized by being with "her people."
The Blackstone show as she knew it closed in 1950 and it wasn't until 2006 that she returned to magic and began thinking about telling her story. She read a book about her old boss and noticed a number of errors and omissions. She contacted the author and he managed to persuade her to relate some of her stories. Unbeknownst to her, he had those reminiscences assembled into a manuscript and set the pages to Adele to edit. And, as if by magic, her book appeared late last year.
Adele spoke of her "best friend in magic," Terry Evanswood and how he brought her to Magi-Fest and provided her with a hotel room and how he was going to put her in his performance for the conference's closing night. She met him, almost by accident, at another convention in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. He is a magician and, as it would turn out, a huge collector of Blackstoniana--if there is such a word.
As I waited my turn to have my book signed, I heard her make several references to the slight breakfast she had had many hours earlier and that she need to have something to eat before that night's performance.
It seemed the least I could do to take charge of making sure she got something to eat and, as a result, I got to be her lunch date.
What an honor!
* * *
At one point, while I was standing at a respectful distance from the table, I watched a couple of young guys walk out of the dealer room and past Adele's table. They both took note of the table and the video camera and one of them turned to the other and said, "What's that?" The other guy took a second look and said, "I don't know," and they walked on without ever breaking stride.
Adele and her colleagues are the reason those two and every other person was at this convention. Through her work, she lit a spark in someone who kept the spirit of magic alive so hat it could be passed from one generation to the next.
With so many discovering magic through the Internet it is all to easy to lose sight of what came before. With the latest custom printed playing cards and transistorized trickery in hand, we stop thinking about those who came before and were able to make a living with a bit of thread and some wax.
It is fitting that Adele's book is called "Memoirs of an Elusive Moth." The "Elusive Moth" was a signature illusion in the Blackstone show but the moth is also an appropriate metaphor for magic and its history.
Not only is it ephemeral and difficult to capture, but it can be easy to overlook and gone before you know it.
At 86, Adele spoke of preferring to be around "her people" than those "old fogeys," but it is all of us who are moths to the flame of magic that she and those like her kept alight.
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