This is a hurtful fabrication. It is not fun to be fooled. People do not like to be fooled. If it were fun to be fooled then Richard Nixon would still be President of the United States. The nature of human beings demands seeking out answers to that which cannot be explained. People can become indignant, angry, or resentful if they are deceived. Being fooled is not a pleasant experience. Anyone who tells you differently is naive, stupid, or trying to sell you something.
But the definition of magic I am using demands that the spectators be fooled. If the spectators can concoct any satisfying solution then there is no magic. This is a dilemma; to accomplish my goal I must do the most hurtful thing possible to the spectators. What can I do? How do I soften the impact of the hurt and ease any possible resentment that the spectators may feel toward me?
This problem of how to structure a routine in such a way that it minimizes the negative aspects of being fooled is of major importance. Unfortunately, few magicians are even aware of the Big Lie, and fewer still have ever considered how to solve the problem.
Curiously enough, someone has done research into this problem, and has developed results that point toward workable solutions. What is even more curious is that this information is almost totally unknown to magicians. This is magic’s loss, and I intend to rectify the situation now. The information you are about to
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learn will lead us away from The Big Lie (and all its related trauma) and will head us out of the woods.
Dr. Nagler’s Study
Some months ago I was having a phone conversation with Scotty York. During the chat Scotty asked if I was familiar with a book called Your Audience Really Doesn’t Like Being Fooled written by Dr. William Nagler. I was unfamiliar with this work. Scotty sent me some information. What I read came as both a revelation and vindication, since what Dr. Nagler had discovered in a laboratory setting totally agreed with what I had stumbled on through 14 years of performing for real people.
Dr. Nagler’s study sprang from knowing about The Big Lie. Using more than 50 students as subjects, Dr.
Nagler and his associates recorded both physiological and psychological data as the subjects watched magic performances. From this data Dr. Nagler extrapolated four approaches that would minimize the negative effects of being fooled. I was surprised to discover that those routines in my repertoire that I felt were the most effective fell into one or more of these categories. Through trial and error, over a long period of time, without realizing what I was doing, I had structured my routines to minimize audience animosity.
Dr. Nagler’s four categories are: Conspiratorial, Triumphant, Distancing, and Non-magic. I will explain each one.
Conspiratorial approach: the magician takes the spectator in his confidence, as if both were un-able to understand why the trick works. My angle on this approach is, as much as possible, to have the spectator be responsible for the magic. Examples of this are Dr. Strangetrick and The El Cheepo Magic Club. The spectator is the one doing the trick. I’m as amazed as everyone else.
Triumphant approach: the trick has apparently failed, but the magician pulls it out at the end. This has the aspect of a sucker trick, but you don’t shove the spectators’ noses in it. While most people hate to be fooled, they also don’t like to see a performer screw up a trick. When the trick has apparently gone astray, the spectators feel sorry for the magician. When the magician triumphs over apparent failure the spectators cheer his success, even though it means that they were fooled. An example of this occurs at the end of The Frog Prince, where it seems the frog found the wrong card.
Distancing approach: the magician removes himself one step away from the action by couching the entire trick in terms of a story. Almost every trick I do involves this approach to some extent, but good examples are The Pothole Trick and A Visit From Rocco.
Non-magic approach: the comedy and by-play involved in the routine is really more important than the magic. Down for the Count is an example of this. These types of routines are important; it isn’t vital that every routine be a brain-basher. If I perform three tricks at a table it is likely that the middle trick will be of this type.
If you examine the routines in the Workers series you will find that they fit into one or more of these cat-egories. You can understand why I was both surprised and vindicated. I always knew that these routines
“worked”, but now I knew why.
In addition to Dr. Nagler’s four categories I would offer two more suggestions, one. from Alex Elmsley and one from myself. Elmsley suggested that if the spectators could anticipate the climax of a routine an instant
before it happened, then even though they would be fooled they would feel some sense of accomplishment.
I would agree with this assessment with the following warning: the technical requirements of the trick must be completed before the point in time when the spectators anticipate the climax. Here’s what I mean: At the end of The Frog Prince the spectators realize the folded-up frog is going to be the selected card. But at the point that they realize this the frog has already been switched. I am clean. Technically, the trick is over. But, as I mentioned in the last chapter, in The Card in the Box, the spectator anticipation happens at the wrong time. They realize the card in the box will be the spectator’s card, but I haven’t switched it yet! I hope this clarifies my point.
One more suggested approach I would offer is this: the last trick of your performance need not fall into one of the above categories. After all, at the end of this trick you are leaving, so it is not vital that you be nice.
The Big Surprise is not a “nice” trick. It kicks people in the head. But I don’t care, because I’m walking offstage. I want people to remember me and the best way to accomplish that is to fool them to death just before I leave.
We’re Back Home
I think we’ve had enough of a walk for one day. I did not discuss the theatrical structuring of a routine, but that can be a topic for another time. In this regard, though, some of the best advice on the subject was offered by Alex Elmsley. He suggested that at every point in time in a routine we ask ourselves two ques-tions:
1. Is something of interest happening?
2. Can the audience appreciate the effect?
Elmsley’s exposition on these two questions is required reading for anyone who is interested in
presentation and showmanship. His entire essay can be found in The Collected Works of Alex Elmsey, pages 3-14.
This wraps up the first part of my magical filtration system. Other essays will examine other elements. I hope that the above information will be useful as you build your own sieve.
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his discussion is a continuation of the essay on Presentation, with the emphasis being on words. I’m a big fan of patter. The words we use and the manner in which we speak them can be two of our strongest tools in maintaining and controlling audience interest. But I fear that few magicians give any thought at all to their presentational monologues. When I watch other magicians, most patter I hear is ill-conceived and poorly delivered. If your patter is not as effective as you would like it to be, perhaps the next few para-graphs will help.Assume I am working out a new routine. I have found a trick that looks promising and have developed a thematic approach to use in my presentation. My next step is to sit down and write out a patter line. This first draft will probably bear little resemblance to the final patter, but it is important for me to physically write down words. (Mike Caveny has made the same suggestion in an article entitled “Serious Laughter”
in Square One, pages 17 -20). During this process, I try to identify those moments in the routine that most require effective patter.
Let me explain this. In this volume I have isolated Analysis in its own essay, but in practice my analysis of the method of a trick occurs simultaneously with my development of a presentation. As I analyze, I make note of those moments that will require the controlling of the audience’s attention. Each of those moments will need a strongly misdirective patter line or bit of business. I also try to identify where the “dead spots”
are in the trick so my patter will entertain during those lulls.
After enough practice and rehearsal time I try out the routine in front of real people. During this process the patter is refined and honed. Extraneous verbiage is eliminated. Every word I say must have a purpose.
Tape recording performances is very helpful in refining patter. I will usually transcribe a taped performance and edit the patter, removing unnecessary words and rewriting those parts that need to be more effective.
The key point here is writing down what you are going to say. There are very few great “ad-libbers” in the world. If you take the time to write down your patter I believe you will find that your performances im-prove considerably.
Although no specific mention was made in the Workers books, the patter for the routines in these volumes was constructed using the above guidelines. If you choose to, you can analyze how the words interact with the actions. Another very useful book in this regard is Showtime at the Tomfoolery .
The Purpose of Patter
I mentioned above that I want every word I say to serve a purpose. Perhaps you have not thought about this before, but what is the purpose of patter? My list would include the following:
1. To entertain 2. To emphasize 3. To instruct 4. To misdirect
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As much as possible I try to edit out any patter lines that do not fall into the above categories. Most of all, I try to avoid patter that merely describes that which the spectators can easily observe. Unless the intention is to emphasize an action (so it will be remembered later) such patter serves no useful purpose.
Two more suggestions:
1. Avoid asking questions, unless you are sure you want to hear the answer. This is an old but valuable rule. (Q: “Do you know where the ball went?” A: “In your lap.”)
2. Good dramatic practice dictates that you do not move and talk at the same time. If a patter line is important for the audience’s understanding of the trick, then unnecessary movement of the hands or body will be distracting. By the same token, if an action is important, a patter line may be redundant.
Here are two examples. In Dr. Strangetrick, I remain silent every time the card turns inside out. In The Frog Prince, I remain silent as I unfold the frog. You get the idea.
Delivering Patter
Hand in hand with the creation of effective patter is its effective delivery. I am appalled at the way most magicians speak when they are performing. No one is born with good diction and forceful and dramatic projection. It takes practice. When I was a kid I would read aloud to my two younger sisters. In high school I was involved in dramatics and worked at the local radio station. If you are not a strong public speaker I suggest contacting a local drama teacher for help. Read aloud, and tape record yourself. Listen to people who are good speakers. Pay attention to how they use their voices. One of my favorites is Garrison Keillor, who possesses one of the greatest expressive vocal instruments on the planet.
Thinking on Your Feet
In the development of patter, the full-time working professional definitely has an advantage over the ama-teur. The reason is that very often great patter lines are invented while performing. Spectators will often give you lines. (When this happens at Illusions, the policy is to give the spectator a dollar.)
One definite advantage that a pro has is a supply of lines to use when unexpected things occur during routines. When a spectator makes a comment or does something out of the ordinary the performer can lose his control over the audience. At times like this a clever line can put the performer back in charge. I have a warehouse of these lines in my head, but every now and then something will happen and I won’t know what to say. When I finish my performance I will make a note of what occurred and will go home and try to write an appropriate line so that next time I will be ready. As a test, I thought you might like to try com-ing up with an appropriate comment to say after each of the followcom-ing occurrences (and yes, they all have happened to me; and I do have a funny response for each; and if you think I’m going to tell you what my response is you’re nuts):
1. You bring out a two-dollar bill. A spectator asks if he can keep it. What do you say?
2. A spectator is examining a two-dollar bill. He tries to sneak it into his pocket. What do you say?
3. A spectator is examining a two-dollar bill. He holds it up to his nose and smells it. What do you say?
4. A spectator is examining a two-dollar bill. He asks if it is real. What do you say?
5. You ask a spectator to name a playing card. He says, “Do you want me to tell you?” What do you say?
6. A woman spectator starts to look up your sleeve. What do you say?
Humor
To conclude this discussion I want to talk about humor. By nature I am a funny person. I grew up in a home with people with good senses of humor. I study comedy. I enjoy making people laugh. Comedy is a part of my performance style because that is how I am.
But magic need not be hysterically funny to be entertaining. If you are not a naturally funny person then you would be better off structuring your performances so the laughter develops from the element of sur-prise rather than clever jokes. Nothing is more annoying than a performer who thinks he is funny but isn’t.
Be very self-critical here. Be honest. Be yourself. Your audience will thank you for it.
Patter
Technique
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agicians have a love/hate relationship with technique. On the one hand, the average magical hobby-ist is enamored of those performers who have technical ability, especially when that technique is overtly displayed. (I am always amused when I overhear magicians raving about the speed of another performer’s pass, or the beauty of his second or bottom deals.) On the other hand, many magicians boast of their lack of skill as if it were a badge of honor. (“I don’t do any of that fancy, finger-flinging stuff. I’m an entertainer.”) In their minds, technique and showmanship are mutually exclusive; this is an incorrect assessment.I am a proponent of technique. My parents instilled in me an ethic that anything worth doing was worth do-ing well. As a musician, I know what is required to attain.a high level of competence on a musical instru-ment. So it is a mystery to me, as Clarke Crandall would say, why so many magicians would feel that the strongest selling point of a trick is “No Skill Required!” As my friend John Carney so eloquently writes in his book Carneycopia:
Even the amateur, who need not excel for the sake of his livelihood, would derive more pleasure and satisfaction from greater accomplishment. If greatness, or at least improvement, is not aspired to, then what is the point of participation?
It is not my intent to go into a psychological study of those who claim magic as their hobby or profession (although somebody really ought to). Instead, I would like to take a moment to compare magic to music and to point out two areas where the art of magic suffers greatly: lack of teachers and lack of pedagogy.
We Go to Music School
Let’s pretend that you have a son or daughter who shows an interest in a musical instrument, say the violin.
Perhaps this interest comes about through involvement in a grade-school or middle-school orchestra. If your child demonstrates an aptitude toward the instrument, the first thing you would do would be to find a competent teacher. Unless you live in a very small community, you will probably be able to find at least half a dozen people who advertise themselves as violin teachers. You would examine the credentials of all these teachers: what college degrees had they attained, where had they studied, who were their teachers, what professional experience did they have, how well do their students play? Using these guidelines you would be able to select a suitable teacher.
Over time, it is possible that your child (through diligent practice and thoughtful instruction) might display an advanced ability on the violin. Such an ability that the present teacher has taken your child to a point where a more knowledgeable teacher is required. This may mean re-examining the available teachers and perhaps finding someone in a larger community or someone associated with a college, university, or sym-phony orchestra. Should your child eventually wish to pursue music as a career, then you would need to examine the various music schools around the country, investigating their faculties to determine where the most appropriate instruction could be found.
My point is this: if someone wants to become proficient on a musical instrument there is an established hierarchy of teaching that will enable them to advance as far as their determination and ability will allow.
Magic has no such hierarchy. Magic is, and probably will always be, a guild. If you want to learn and ad-vance, you seek out the most knowledgeable person you can find and apprentice yourself to them.
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And, over time, you may learn and advance; or you may not, for the master is under no obligation to give information to the apprentice. In the world of magic there is always this unspoken question: “Are you here to learn or are you here just to find out how my tricks work?” Advancement is based on personal initiative and the ability of the apprentice to prove to the master that the both the fingers and the brain are involved in the learning process.
At this point you may be thinking, “Where does Close get his drugs?” My thesis is not that far-fetched. The guild system is intact, although the guildhalls of Medieval times have been replaced by living rooms, cof-fee shops, and the main bar at the Magic Castle. Do this for me: make a list of the ten best close-up
At this point you may be thinking, “Where does Close get his drugs?” My thesis is not that far-fetched. The guild system is intact, although the guildhalls of Medieval times have been replaced by living rooms, cof-fee shops, and the main bar at the Magic Castle. Do this for me: make a list of the ten best close-up