April 25: Pride
A magician stole my watch once.
I was in a nightclub when my watch was stolen. The magician was doing a routine onstage and he pulled me up to help him. The routine was done with four sponge balls, which the magician made jump from one hand to the other. At one point, he grabbed my wrists so he could show me where he wanted me to put my hands. I felt him take my watch. I only felt it because I'm familiar with the routine and I knew what to look for. Had I been a magical novice, I would not have noticed. His technique was impeccable.
I had a choice to make. I could call the magician on the watch steal and avoid being embarrassed later, or I could pretend I didn't notice so my colleague in magic could reap his applause.
I chose the latter. I blushed a little as I returned to my seat, watch safely back in my possession. I do not know who the magician is. All I remember is it was a good show.
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Young magicians are usually taught that being a good magician is also about being a good spectator.
To me, that means that I don't do any magic tricks when I'm on another magician's turf (a restaurant where a magician is table hopping, a theatre where a magician is performing.) In fact, I won't even tell people I'm also a magician. Murray Hatfield taught me that when I was just a young guy and it's one of the best magic lessons I've ever learned.
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When I was a young magician, I didn't like watching other magicians. I actually turned down tickets to see David Copperfield. I didn't like knowing that there were magicians out there who were better than me.
Man, what a counter-productive way to think. I wish I could go back in time and kick myself in the butt. I could have learned so much from Copperfield and I have learned a lot from Doug Henning, Paul Alberstat, Murray Hatfield, and all the other professional magicians who have shared their knowledge with me.
It strikes me that pride is completely useless to anyone who wants to excel in a craft. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle tells us that mediocrity sees nothing higher than itself but talent will recognize genius instantly.
It is probably true that Johann Sebastian Bach, genius that he was, recognized glaring mistakes in his own work. And Shakespeare was surely embarrassed when he read his plays. It is the nature of the artist to zero in on the imperfections and to weep over them. This is not nitpicking. This is humility.
-
Rene Lavand, a one-handed Argentine magician, refused to improvise for his audiences. He knew that magic is not an art that lends itself to improvisation. He said his restraint was due to his enormous respect for the audience.
He wanted his viewers to experience unfettered awe. He knew that an improvised routine, or one that had not been painstakingly rehearsed, would rob his audience of this experience.
So I submit that the magicians who do this - subject their audiences to under rehearsed routines - are a proud lot. They want the applause but they don't want to work for it. (And fie on those magic trick manufacturers who say things like "Perform it the day you get it.")
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This was supposed to be a note about pride but instead it became a note about magical work ethic. This is fine with me.
I was in a nightclub when my watch was stolen. The magician was doing a routine onstage and he pulled me up to help him. The routine was done with four sponge balls, which the magician made jump from one hand to the other. At one point, he grabbed my wrists so he could show me where he wanted me to put my hands. I felt him take my watch. I only felt it because I'm familiar with the routine and I knew what to look for. Had I been a magical novice, I would not have noticed. His technique was impeccable.
I had a choice to make. I could call the magician on the watch steal and avoid being embarrassed later, or I could pretend I didn't notice so my colleague in magic could reap his applause.
I chose the latter. I blushed a little as I returned to my seat, watch safely back in my possession. I do not know who the magician is. All I remember is it was a good show.
-
Young magicians are usually taught that being a good magician is also about being a good spectator.
To me, that means that I don't do any magic tricks when I'm on another magician's turf (a restaurant where a magician is table hopping, a theatre where a magician is performing.) In fact, I won't even tell people I'm also a magician. Murray Hatfield taught me that when I was just a young guy and it's one of the best magic lessons I've ever learned.
-
When I was a young magician, I didn't like watching other magicians. I actually turned down tickets to see David Copperfield. I didn't like knowing that there were magicians out there who were better than me.
Man, what a counter-productive way to think. I wish I could go back in time and kick myself in the butt. I could have learned so much from Copperfield and I have learned a lot from Doug Henning, Paul Alberstat, Murray Hatfield, and all the other professional magicians who have shared their knowledge with me.
It strikes me that pride is completely useless to anyone who wants to excel in a craft. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle tells us that mediocrity sees nothing higher than itself but talent will recognize genius instantly.
It is probably true that Johann Sebastian Bach, genius that he was, recognized glaring mistakes in his own work. And Shakespeare was surely embarrassed when he read his plays. It is the nature of the artist to zero in on the imperfections and to weep over them. This is not nitpicking. This is humility.
-
Rene Lavand, a one-handed Argentine magician, refused to improvise for his audiences. He knew that magic is not an art that lends itself to improvisation. He said his restraint was due to his enormous respect for the audience.
He wanted his viewers to experience unfettered awe. He knew that an improvised routine, or one that had not been painstakingly rehearsed, would rob his audience of this experience.
So I submit that the magicians who do this - subject their audiences to under rehearsed routines - are a proud lot. They want the applause but they don't want to work for it. (And fie on those magic trick manufacturers who say things like "Perform it the day you get it.")
-
This was supposed to be a note about pride but instead it became a note about magical work ethic. This is fine with me.
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