ON
THE WATERS FRONT a column of information
and opinion by T. A. Waters THE OPINIONS
EXPRESSED IN THIS COLUMN ARE THOSE OF
THE WRITER, AND MAY NOT NECESSARILY REPRESENT
THE VIEWS OF THE STEVENS MAGIC EMPORIUM
OR GEMINI. Column Five: UNSYMPATHETIC
MAGIC As regular readers of this column
will have gathered by now, it does not
appear on a regular basis. Here, courtesy
of the beneficence of Joe and Amy, I can
write when divinely (or otherwise) inspired,
rather than to a deadline.
When I read
Neale and Burger's MAGIC AND MEANING,
it offered a good deal of food for thought
and speculation -- but I didn't get a
focus on how to approach the subject until
I perused Mr. Racherbaumer's most recent
GeMiNi column, the first part of which
is devoted to a certain public hostility
to magic. Since Jon's column began with
a couple of quotes, I can do no less:
"The more a trick serves a real need,
the less the concern of both audience
and performer about deception." -- Robert
Neale "Things and actions are what they
are, and the consequences of them will
be what they will be: why then should
we desire to be deceived?" -- Joseph Butler
So much for divine inspiration, from a
divine and a theologian born two centuries
apart. It is not accidental that people
of these intellectual pursuits should
be concerned with trickery; deception
is often used to create an illusion of
the impossible, and the existence of an
impossible phenomenon implies the existence
of Powers and Entities not bound by natural
law.
There will,
however, be no discussion of gospel magic
in this column. Some time ago, in posts
to this board, I recounted the answer
given to me by a young woman who hated
magic, when I asked her why: "I don't
like being lied to."
When she looked
at a magician, that was all she could
see: someone telling her a box was empty
when it wasn't -- someone saying a card
was lost in the deck when it wasn't --
and so on; to her it was an endless litany
of lies and -- importantly -- nothing
BUT lies. As there are some laypersons
who have a deep- seated hostility toward
magic, so there are an appreciable number
of magicians who have not just hostility
but open anger toward mentalists. This
may sometimes be exacerbated by actually
performing a mentalism or mental magic
piece -- if it goes badly, it affirms
their feeling that mental stuff is not
entertaining, and if it goes well the
rage is directed toward the audience for
"....going gaga over that dumb slate trick
that anybody could do, more than the card
stuff and the floating ball I've been
working on for years!" (And, yes, as well
as I can remember it after seven or eight
years, that's a direct quote -- it WAS
a dumb slate trick, too.) But why DID
the audience react that way? Why didn't
the woman mentioned earlier have the same
repelled reaction when she read a novel
or went to a movie, or for that matter
heard a romantic song lyric? These are,
after all, as much a fiction as any Ace
Assembly; often as untrue as any Floating
Lady or Flying Gentleman; as much a deception
as the fluttering dove transmuted into
fluttering silken scarf.
Well -- when
was the last time you heard someone complain
about the STAR WARS trilogy on the grounds
that there really aren't spaceships like
the ones piloted by Solo and Skywalker?
It may sound like a more than ordinarily
stupid question, but the implication of
the answer -- probably never -- is far
from trivial. You see, the reactions of
magicians to mentalism and the reactions
of laypersons to magic are very much of
a piece: the magician watches mentalism
for the 'trick' aspect -- and since often
the technique of mentalism is very simple,
thinks "But there's nothing TO this."
In the same way, the layperson looks at
magic and, because it seems to have no
purpose or relevance except as a puzzle,
thinks "But there's nothing TO this."
What we're talking about here is subtext
-- a sense of meaning beyond the immediate
experience. We listen to Bonnie Raitt
and Gloria Estefan sing to us of their
broken hearts and unhappy loves -- and
while we may know that both women are
happily married, we don't perceive them
as lying to us; we perceive them as creating
what may be, specifically, a fiction,
to express a human and universal truth.
Heartbreak happens, and when it does it
means something to us.
What's the subtext
of magic? All too often it is "I can do
something you can't -- I know something
you don't..." -- or, more succinctly,
"I'm smart, you're stupid. Here, I'll
do it again, see? I'm still smart, you're
still stupid." Who WOULDN'T be hostile
to a message like that?
Magicians tell
me that they don't intend to give this
message, that all they intend to do is
some nice magic with some amusing lines.
Well -- as the oft misquoted line goes
-- "...the streets of hell are paved with
good intentions." It doesn't MATTER what's
intended: what happens is that the human
mind tries to find meaning in events,
and if magicians don't provide meaning
beyond "I'm smart, you're stupid," then
that is the meaning that will be perceived
by the spectators.
If you subtract
meaning from magic, what you're left with
is a puzzle; nothing more.
Remember my
question, a couple of paragraphs back,
about STAR WARS? Here's something I said
in 1985, in the Introduction to FYNYS:
...In the past
few years we have seen a number of multi-million
dollar productions, packed from first
frame to last with spectacular visual
effects, go right into the dumper -- to
the very great puzzlement of the executives.
How could it happen? Didn't the STAR WARS
films make big bucks because of their
special effects?
"Nope.
"The STAR WARS
trilogy was successful because it was,
at base, a mythic fairy tale, a story
that people have responded to for thousands
of years. Now, the technical virtuosity
of those film effects was critical to
the success of the films in that they
made the setting of the story believable;
once the viewer had bought that premise,
however, the effects faded into the background
and the story took over."
And to belabor
the obvious: only a very few of us are
likely to get involved in an intergalactic
war, or save a princess -- but we know
what it's like to leave home to seek out
our destiny, and want to believe we will
battle for what we believe in -- and that's
what STAR WARS is really about. It isn't
about spaceships or laser swords or exploding
planets; it's about love and honor and
friendship and duty -- not, ideally, notions
confined only to fantasy.
One more point
about STAR WARS; in the mid- 1980's a
production of the trilogy was done on
National Public Radio. It was hugely successful
-- and while it did have a built-in audience
of people who were fans of the films,
anyone could rent or buy the videos, so
why would they want to just sit there
and listen? Who knows? Maybe they liked
the story.
"The magician
is an actor playing the part of a magician."
Really? Doesn't
seem like that to me, most of the time.
It seems like some guy -- or girl -- onstage,
telling hackneyed and unfunny jokes and
doing hackneyed and unmystifying magic.
They act as though the spectators should
be impressed because they make the assistant
vanish from the box -- but most of the
spectators have the sense that if they
had the box they could make the assistant
vanish too -- and, often as not, they're
right.
What's happened
here? The would-be performer bought some
props -- maybe looked in some old Orben
books for lines, maybe used the lines
in the instructions, often used lines
he'd heard other magicians using. He got
up on stage and operated the prop and
spouted the lines and thought that he
was a performer, a magician...
...but, as David
Berglas points out: "He hasn't done ANYTHING.
The person who created the trick -- the
one who wrote the instructions and patter
-- the one who built the prop -- THEY
did something. All this person has done
is DEMONSTRATED it -- which isn't good
enough."
Mr. Berglas
is right; it ISN'T good enough. Unfortunately,
though, much of the time it's as good
as it gets. But you know what? When Robert-Houdin
told us a magician is an actor playing
the part of a magician -- he was RIGHT.
We've all seen film and stage actors portray
magicians, and be more convincing in the
role than "real" magicians who have been
doing it for decades; might this not be
because they actually ARE "actors playing
the part of magicians" -- rather than
simply giving lip service to an old saying
without even trying to understand it?
For an actor
to play a part, however, there have to
be at least two elements present:
First -- the
actor has to have the requisite skills,
i.e., he or she has to be trained in the
many aspects of acting technique.
Second -- there
has to be a specific part to play; it
can't just be 'generic magician.' This
would be true if the character of the
magician were just one of several in a
production; if, as in a magic show, the
magician is the CENTRAL character, it
is crucial.
Imagine you're
the director -- you approach our hypothetical
actor and say, "All right, you'll be playing
the magician."
"What sort of
person is he?" inquires our actor. "What's
his story?"
"You know, just
your standard magician."
Let's suppose
the actor doesn't walk at this point --
but instead tries again: "Well -- what
happens to the magician? How does he change?
How does he affect the other people on
stage, or touch the audience?"
"He just does
his magic, fools the people," you respond.
If the actor has half a brain, by this
time he's headed out the door. Like most
actors, he may be desperate for any kind
of a role -- but you haven't offered him
one; you haven't offered him anything.
Let's get down to cases: it is not necessary
for magic -- or what, for convenience's
sake, we'll agree to call a part of magic
-- to have subtext. It is perfectly possible
for a performer to go out and do Trick
A, Trick B, Trick C...straight to L, and
then off the stage -- just like the juggler,
or the dog act, or the tumblers. The magician
is just one more novelty act, like the
others simply performing to prove he can
do it -- and the audience can take it
or leave it, like it as meaningless eye
candy or hate it as lies told with lacquered
boxes.
There's nothing
wrong with this kind of magic; I mean
that sincerely. There are some great novelty
acts with magic as their basis.
There's also
nothing wrong with using a computer as
a paperweight -- but in so doing, one
may miss out on its other potentials.
Let's take a look at three people who
have changed the face of magic -- one
in the not-all-that distant past, and
two of the present. DOUG HENNING: While
there were many magicians who "kept the
torch aloft" for the three decades following
WW2, magic was not generally viewed in
a positive light in show-business circles.
I think a strong argument can be made
that the resurgence of magic as a viable
part of theatrical entertainment dates
pretty directly from the opening of THE
MAGIC SHOW on Broadway. Why did Doug succeed,
the first to do so since Dante in 1940?
Was it because of the songs and dances?
Most reviewers agreed they were pretty
lame. Was it because of Doug's wardrobe
and long hair? I don't THINK so; by the
mid-70s the Flower Generation was in full
wilt and, if anything, his peace-and-love
hippie image should have worked against
him. Was it the magic itself? A lot of
it was new to the reviewers, but it was
not so radically different as to account
for the success of the show.
What are we
left with? Why, it would seem that we're
left with Doug himself, and the way he
presented the magic. Was the subtext "I'm
smart, you're stupid"...? No -- not at
all, nor was it "I'm terrific, I'm wonderful."
It was "MAGIC
is terrific, MAGIC is wonderful"-- and
it was a subtext that Doug was able to
get across to his audiences because he
believed it completely. They responded
to this; they might think he dressed funny,
sometimes acted a little goofy, maybe
said "Woo!" a few times too many -- but
they loved Doug Henning, and they made
him a star. DAVID COPPERFIELD: It is easy
to pick on David -- sometimes he makes
it too easy -- but if we take a look at
someone who may well be the best known
magician since Houdini's time, certainly
the most successful, having made millions
way up in the double digits, not to mention
Claudia -- it's just barely possible that
this guy might have a little something
on the ball.
The defining
thing about David's stardom now is that
his audience does NOT consist of 'magic
fans' -- if that were the limit of his
appeal, he'd be no more than a minor celebrity
at best. The people who sit in the seats
at his shows are David Copperfield fans;
for most of them, he's the only magician
they have any interest in seeing.
David has said
in many interviews that he was not inspired
by other magicians, but by Broadway and
film musicals and other theatrical experiences.
A look at his touring show or any of his
television specials will show that this
is not just phrase-making; what we see
is NOT someone performing an illusion
with some nice rock music in the background
and a bit of choreography -- we see a
production number with the elements of
dance and music and lighting fully integrated
to achieve the maximum possible effect
from the illusion, and the strongest possible
image for David.
It is fashionable
in some circles to denigrate David as
an "MTV magician" -- or as "a rock star
wannabee." I got news for you: he not
a wannabee -- he a IS. His vehicle may
be magic rather than music, but he's more
of a rock star than a lot of musicians.
What's the subtext
of a lot of David's magic? I guess the
simplest formulation would be "magic is
sex." Whatever you may think of that subtext,
you have to admit it might have a broader
general appeal than "I'm smart, you're
stupid." RICKY JAY: When RICKY JAY AND
HIS 52 ASSISTANTS opened in New York last
year, it received perhaps the most uniformly
sensational reviews of any magic show
in history. There were a lot of us who'd
always thought that Mr. Jay was pretty
good -- but still it was little short
of astounding to see so many lay reviewers,
some with a stated antipathy to magic,
stumbling all over their typers in search
of the laudatory adjectives they needed
to describe his show.
What did he
do to get this kind of reaction?
He did some
highly skillful card magic and he talked
a lot.
Hmm...maybe
there was a little more to it than that;
maybe it was a lifetime in magic and a
knowledge of its history that allowed
Ricky to stand and deliver a sense of
the mystery and fascination of magic --
to create with words a pageant so glittering
and colorful that no one cared to look
for secrets and methods. There were many
subtexts in Ricky's show, from that of
the artist striving to perfect his art,
to the respect and love one has for the
teachers of the art. This was meaning
to which any intelligent person could
respond, and could inspire Time Magazine
to call it "...the smartest show in town."
Smart indeed;
and never making the audience feel stupid.
In talking about these three gentleman,
as in the rest of the column, I have deliberately
avoided two general areas -- comedy, and
"story magic." Certainly there are or
have been elements of both of these in
the shows of all three; indeed, David
has at times gone so far along this line
that his story sequences should have been
prefaced with warning labels for diabetics.
Doug's presentations and his manner were
both so lighthearted that there always
seemed to be a comic aspect present. Ricky's
storytelling ability was the central part
of his show, but it was done in a very
different context than what is usually
thought of as "story" magic.
Comedy and story
magic are subjects for an entire column,
and this one is already running long;
onward. The point (finally) is this: Doug
Henning, David Copperfield and Ricky Jay
are as disparate a trio of stage magicians
as could be imagined, but they all have
two things in common.
The first is
that they offered their audiences an alternative
subtext to "I'm smart, you're stupid."
The second is
that they are, in their various ways,
the three most successful magicians of
modern times. Ah, well. Maybe it's just
one of those funny coincidences. T. A.
WATERS
Copyright (c)
1995 by T. A. Waters. All rights reserved.
