Entries from June 2008 ↓
June 27th, 2008 — Magic
When I was in Orlando a few weeks ago, I took a day to visit EPCOT Center. There was a troupe of Chinese acrobats preparing to perform in an open-air courtyard. People were walking by and an announcer (actually a pre-recorded message) stated that the show would begin, but in order to allow as many people as possible to see the show, they asked that everyone please sit down.
I had already staked out a seat in the back in the shade, so I was glad they made the request.
Unfortunately, those who were standing at the front shifted awkwardly for a moment, and then — when none of their peers made a motion to sit — decided to remain standing. And so the show began with a row of people seated, followed by a crowd of defiant standers, and then a lot of people who gave up hope of seeing anything and decided to move on.
What should have happen (had they been more professional) was for the leader of the troupe to reiterate the request to sit, and to steadfastly refuse to start the show until everyone was seated.
Had the acrobats done that, they could have played to a larger audience. The audience would have been able to see and would have responded better. And perhaps most importantly, the troupe would have looked more professional. As it was, they came off looking like a second class act because they didn’t take charge of the situation.
If an actor on stage knocks over a pitcher of water but continues on with his or her speech as if nothing had happened, the result is awkward, comical, and amateurish. Not because they were clumsy (accidents happen), but because they didn’t have the sense to take charge of the situation and respond to what was really happening.
As magicians, we need to be ready to take charge and respond to what’s taking place onstage and in the audience.
If, during your stage performance someone is talking loudly and disturbing those seated nearby, you need to address the situation. First of all, you owe it to the other members of your audience to give them the best experience you can. And second, if you ignore the situation, it reflects poorly on you because you look clueless.
How your respond to the loud talker is a complex issue that depends on your status, the environment, and how much real power you have.
In some cases you may initiate a direct confrontation (”Hey, motor-mouth…give a rest will ya?”). Or direct but circumspect (”Holy smokes lady, we can hear you all the way up here.”)
In some instances you may not find it wise to risk any confrontation, however, you still need let the audience know that you know what’s happening or they’ll think that you’re completely ignorant. Instead of addressing the offender directly, you might say to the audience, “Is it just me, or is that really annoying?”
There are lots of unexpected things that can happen during your magic act, and your response can range from forceful to polite, but you need be prepared to respond.
What would you say if a baby started crying during your show?
What if your microphone began behaving erratically?
What if a cell-phone rings? Or during a walk-around set, someone begins texting a friend?
What if someone with a video camera begins to walk toward the stage?
In most cases, it will behoove you to issue your response quickly to nip it in the bud. Don’t wait until the situation becomes unbearable. Issue your remarks at the first sign of trouble.
Of course, you needn’t excoriate the person with the crying baby from the first waaah. But if you quickly issue a gentle humorous rebuke, the parent will know that you won’t tolerate a major disturbance, and the audience will feel more at ease, knowing that you’re prepared to take charge of the situation.
Since I’m a big advocate of scripting, it will come as no surprise that I recommend writing up a list of responses to probable scenarios, so that you’ll be prepared for the unplanned interruption. Don’t be a door-mat like the Chinese acrobats, practice being firm but fair, and you can avoid looking like a second-class act.
June 23rd, 2008 — Business
There is quite a bit that I can say about social graces for the magician, but today I’ll confine myself to making conversation after a performance. This applies to those who perform a stage show, but especially to those who work up close (mix & mingle, strolling, walk-around, table-hopping, what-have-you).
If you’re sensitive to what happens after you finish your performance, you’ll know that people will say things like, “Wow!” and “That was great!” and “That was amazing!”
And then, if you’re not prepared, there’s a pause — which can grow to become an awkward silence — as your guests run out of superlatives and fall mute.
If you think about it, it’s quite natural that your audience be at a loss for words. If you’ve done your job well, they’ve probably never experienced the level of astonishment that you’ve just given them. You have seized the spotlight and amazed them, and nothing in their social experience tells them what to do next.
I mean, imagine you were at a cocktail party and you met someone and they said, “Look what I can do…” And then they spun their head around 360 degrees ala Linda Blair.
After you say, “Wow!” what do you say next?
It’s a conversation stopper.
And magic can do the same effect, so it’s up to us (as good entertainers) to help people out by assisting them in restarting the conversation.
Of course you can just say thanks and walk away, but it is not my preferred route. True, sometimes the situation dictates that you not spend time visiting with the guests. Once I was hired to perform for a reception of 300 people for 1 hour. I told the event planner that in order to ensure good coverage (to allow a majority of the attendees to see some magic), I recommended either extending the duration of my performance for a couple hours, or hiring a couple other magicians. Budget constraints, however, would not allow it. So I performed a very short piece of magic for each group, and without pausing to converse with my guests, I would make a speedy departure to find another group to work for.
It was not an optimal situation however, as I’ve found that most guests enjoy interacting with and talking to the magician (how often do they get to do that?). For many people the highlight of the event will be “I got to meet the magician.” And not “…and then my card turned over in the deck!”
But as I mentioned above, sometimes, especially after witnessing great magic, they don’t know how to proceed with the conversation. (In my experience, only 1-in-12 people are skilled enough in conversation that they can ask, “So how did you learn magic?” or “How long have you been performing?” or “Who are your favorite magicians?” or “Where else do you perform?”)
So one thing I do to help them out is to turn the subject of the conversation back to them.
If they’ve indicated that they enjoy seeing magic, I like to ask, “Do you do any magic yourself?”
I’ve met a number of amateur magicians this way, and even if they don’t currently perform, they will often tell me that they used to do magic when they were younger or that they used to have a deck of magic cards, etc. At any rate, I’ve restarted the conversation and I’ve given them a path for us to move the discussion beyond, “Wow, that was great…”
Another conversation starter for someone who has indicated that they like magic is “Who’s your favorite magician?” Or “Who else have you seen perform?” Now they can talk about who they saw on their trip to Vegas and you can tell them which shows are worth seeing next time they go, etc.
When working restaurants, at the end of my performance I say, “So are you here for a special occasion?” It’s not always a “special” occasion, but they usually have some story to tell about why they chose to come here tonight. And of course, if it’s a birthday or anniversary, well, I have a special trick up my sleeve to commemorate the occasion.
In my opinion, it’s you’re ability to interact with people in a social situation that will get you booked back. If you’re a magician who is a master of sleight-of-hand, but you lack the social skills to put people at ease, it’s going to hurt your ability to get bookings.
June 20th, 2008 — Magic
The magician, Jeff McBride, is known to proclaim that, “magic is medicine.”
Magic is indeed good medicine if we understand medicine to be something that makes one feel better.
The late Brian Flora said that he believed that magicians were of more value than most professionals. I agree. In fact I wouldn’t have left the corporate world to become a full-time professional magician if I didn’t believe in the value of what we do.
Magic reminds us that anything is possible. It invites us to dream. Magic gives us permission to hope. It shows us that our understanding of the world has been too limited, too restricted. Magic says “yes” when we are surrounded by a chorus of “noes.”
But if magic is medicine, then (by extension) magicians must be doctors.
Magic is powerful medicine, but it is the wise doctor who knows when to use each type of medicine.
I would not be a very good doctor if I dispensed medicine arbitrarily, without understanding the patient’s needs. Yet I often see inexperience magicians performing the wrong magic for the situation, as if all magic were the same.
The importance of being sensitive and aware is most acute when performing close-up magic. When working from the stage, a magician must attend to the audience as a whole, creating an experience that aims to address the collective body. But when performing up close, for an audience of 2 or 3 people, then the needs of each group are likely to be different and diverse.
The other night, I performed magic for a reception at a corporate event and encountered several different situations, each requiring their own diagnosis. Here are three different scenarios:
Three men in their 30’s were relaxing quietly and drinking beers. I judged that they were all of approximately equal status (had one been a VP and the others his subordinates, I would have taken a decidedly different tack). I sensed an air friendly competitiveness amongst the three, so I decided to harness this energy, and challenged them to a game of Three Card Monte. Each would try to guess where the Ace was, and with each inevitable miss, the others would laugh and taunt their peer — only to be razzed when it was their turn and they too failed to find the Ace.
The choice of magic generated lots of friendly teasing between co-workers and evoked laughter and fun.
Later I met a young man and young woman, both in their 20’s. I noticed that there was a romantic connection between the two and knew that I had to act carefully. The Three Card Monte that had served so well in the previous situation would be an unmitigated disaster here.
In fact, if I were to perform any brain-busting bit of magic, I risked creating an awkward situation, in which the young woman would turn to the young man (whom I sensed she admired deeply) and would ask him, “How did he do that?” The young man would either have to admit that he didn’t know (and thus be diminished in the eyes of his ladylove), or he would have to fabricate some claim that he saw it go up my sleeve (or other such folderol) in order to save face.
So instead of challenging them, I asked the woman to name a card, and I asked the man to give me a number from 1 to 52. When the card she named was found at the location he gave, I congratulated them on being in sync and said that it showed that they were very compatible as a couple. Then I took a cocktail napkin, twisted it into a paper rose, and gave it to the young man to present to his sweetheart.
Finally, I approached a group of 4 women in their 40’s. I could sense that they were not interested giving “magic-boy” a moment in the spotlight so that he could show them how clever he was. Instead I said, “If you’ll shuffle the deck, I’ll tell your fortune.” I handed the deck to one of the women. When she handed it back to me, I began to concentrate and one card wriggled its way out of the deck. After I had interpreted the card and revealed the future, the other women besieged me with demands that I read their fortunes as well.
Three different situations. Each requiring careful diagnosis to ensure that the magic left everyone feeling better.
If magic is medicine, let us all be a good doctors.
June 16th, 2008 — Magic
As you may have guessed from the title, in preparation for my lecture at Magic in the Rockies (Thursday, September 4, 2008) more thoughts on scripting have percolated. Thinking about the lecture has given me an opportunity to organize some ideas which I’ll share with you now…
- Timing — If you use a set script, you can time your performance. I am routinely asked if I can tailor my magic act to X number of minutes. With a set script, I know how long each segment of my show runs and can adjust accordingly. There have even been occasions when I have been asked (moments before taking the stage), “Can you cut your act from 60 minutes to 40 minutes to help us get back on schedule?.” If you use a set script, you can rise the the challenge, and save the day.
- Character — When a magician creates a character, it defines what he or she will do and say as performer. But it also defines what what he or she WILL NOT do and say as a performer. Magicians who are reluctant to use a script because it is too confining may have missed the point. A script does confine and restrain the performer. And this is a good thing, because it helps to sharpen and focus the character. To often magicians try to improvise their words, and end up salting their performance with bad puns, insult humor, or crude innuendo — all of which may run counter to the character that they strive to portray. A script gives you control over how you present yourself (and your character) to the audience.
- Metrics — A script allows you to take measure of your performance. One measure is time (as described above), but there are many others. How many times does the audience laugh during your routine (or your act)? You may make an artistic decision to have more laughs or fewer laughs, but the first step is to work from a set script to establish your baseline. Also, should the laughter come consistently through out your act, or should some sections have more laughter and other sections no laughter? Other things you can measure with your script: How often do you surprise your audience? How many cues for applause are there? How many times do you make use of a dramatic pause? A script gives us a map of the terrain. It allows you to measure your act so you can make decisions that will improve it.
- Consistency — The great Billy McComb once said (in an interview with Martin Breese) that agents are interested in hiring acts that can consistently deliver the goods. If a performer gives a stellar performance one night, but is flat the next night, agents won’t touch them. Agents have enough to worry about; they don’t want to wonder if tonight will be the night that you give a sub-standard performance. Working from a set script ensures consistency.
- Improvement — Having a written script will allow you to study your choice of words and improve them. Do you make a habit of qualifying your claims? Are you prone to say, “This is kind of strange,” when it would be stronger to simply declare, “This is strange.”? Do you say, “I feel that this is important,” when you could state, “This is important.”? Having a written script is an important tool for improving your choice of words and improving your act.
- Precision & Clarity — As magicians, a great number of words that we speak are not that interesting, but they are necessary. “Examine the box inside and out. Are there any trapdoors or hidden openings?” “Give the cards a good mix. Then cut the cards into three approximately equal piles.” If we can’t avoid these uninteresting utterances, then the least we can do is make them brief. Woe to the performer who rambles on and on as the audience succumbs to slumber for want of anything worth listening to. And when we need to give instructions to the audience, let us be clear and use the best choice of words to ensure that the volunteer understands exactly what it is that we are calling upon them to do.
- Master of Your Domain — Magicians (and others who take the stage) need to look at ease on stage, need to appear to be in control. I can be painful to watch a performer who appears uncertain or seems lost. Fumbling for words or being unsure of what to say can undermine your performance. But a magician who works from a script can hold the stage with confidence.
That’s all for now. More sure to follow…
June 15th, 2008 — Magic
[Back in the blogging-saddle after a brief hiatus during which time I traveled to Orlando, Florida. Sadly my travels forced me to forgo a meeting with some world-class magicians (Doc Eason, Eric Mead, and Bob Sheets) at a gathering in Las Vegas. But I enjoyed taking some time for rest and relaxation on Sanibel Island.]
For many years I’ve considered microphones to be a necessary evil in the life of a magician. As a speaking performer (unlike my colleagues who perform silent acts to music), it is necessary, of course, to be heard, and amplifying one’s voice allows one to entertain large audiences (and the larger the audience that you can play to, the more money you stand to make).
But I had long viewed the microphone as being inherently at odds with my craft. After all, as a magician who creates magic with sleight of hand, I considered holding a microphone to be a major impediment to my ability to perform magic. I needed to have my hands free.
For the last few years, I had entered into a truce with the microphone by working with a wireless clip-on (sometimes called a lavalier) microphone. I had my own wireless lavalier mike and sound system that served me well. Or I could plug my receiver into the venue’s existing sound system. And some venues would provide their own wireless clip-on microphone (though I always traveled with my own microphone since on several occasions the the event planner thought that the venue would provide a lavalier microphone — but they didn’t and I was able to avoid a bad situation by carrying my own mike).
And for a long time the truce held. I held no great love for the microphone, but the wireless clip-on mike left my hands free to do what I needed to do as a magician.
Then one day, I had an epiphany.
Like many such realizations, it actually grew out of an amalgam of experiences. Ken Weber (author of Maximum Entertainment) had given me some coaching and had demonstrated the good usage of a hand-held microphone. The enigmatic Bob Cassidy had extolled the virtues of the hand-held microphone which allowed him to indulge in a variety of vocal effects (stage whispers, Voice of God, off-mike prompting, etc.)
But the value of a hand-held microphone finally began to click for me, when my Colorado compatriot (magician, hypnotist, and mind reader) Mr. X, related a story about a children’s magician he knew.
This particular magician was known for his deep booming voice that could fill a 1,000 seat auditorium. And yet, when he performed for even the smallest birthday party (in a living room for an audience of ten children) he always used a hand-held microphone and sound system.
Why? Why would someone with an enormous voice use a microphone for such a small venue?
The reason he used a mike, is that the kids loved talking into the microphone — and the kids loved to hear what their friends had to say.
And that’s when my entire relationship with the microphone began to shift. As magicians we have ample opportunity to involve our audience members. I do so numerous times during my show. But the lavalier microphone captured only my voice. When I spoke to my volunteers the rest of the audience could only hear my side of the conversation — and it wasn’t necessarily the side they most wanted to hear. The hand-held mike would allow me to add a whole new dimension to my act. Whereas before, I saw the microphone only as a liability (which would restrict the magic that I could perform), I now saw the potential for the mike to enhance the entertainment.
I had mentioned before that I’ve been performing magic at at secret undisclosed location, where the audience is quite rambunctious. I’m always on the look out for ways to rivet and hold their attention. The benefit is that if I can win over a difficult audience, then I can be confident in my ability to entertain any audience.
Well, when I heard Mr. X’s story, I knew I could use the microphone to make my show even stronger.
But there was a catch.
I’d have to revamp my entire show so that I could perform with a hand-held mike; the clip-on microphone would have to go. I had a few tools to assist me in my endeavor. A microphone stand (as used by stand-up comics) could serve as a third hand, but would limit my mobility. And a gimcrack (a microphone holder worn around the neck that holds a mike under your chin) could help smooth over some challenging moments when I needed both hands free.
But some pieces of magic would have to be cut or modified to allow for the hand-held mike. A whole new choreography had to be mapped out with an awareness of where the microphone would be. It was a painful adjustment, but it was worth it. By using a hand-held mike, I can more fully involve my volunteers. The audience can now hear both sides of the conversation.
This has lead to some re-scripting in which I am asking more involved questions of my volunteers, questions which are calculated to evoke funny answers. The volunteers are having more fun on stage, the audience is interested in hearing what the volunteers have to say. And the show is more entertaining now that I’ve learned how to use a hand-held microphone. Life is good.
If you’re not using one, I recommend you give it a try. Take full advantage and the opportunities will far out weigh the costs.
June 5th, 2008 — Business
Some final thoughts about Fringe marketing from a full-time professional magician.
First, for those who are in the dark, the Boulder International Fringe Festival is a 12-day festival of live theater, circus art, performance art, spoken word, puppetry, music, dance, multi-media, film, visual art, storytelling, and yes…sometimes magic. Performers pay a fee to participate, and receive in return: a venue, support staff, and some marketing. After that, 100% of the ticket sales goes to the performer, so the onus is on the artist to sell tickets.
A brief story. Years ago, I was active in a Boulder, Colorado, community theater group. The group would produce 3 or 4 plays each year and I acted in some of the productions, stage managed others, and even sat behind the ticket counter at times. At show time, despite the consist high quality of our productions, the auditorium (more often then not) was mostly empty. And the House Manager and the Stage Manager would confer in the lobby, gazing out into the parking lot to see if any stragglers were forthcoming. And during the Winter months the following conversation would ensue:
SM: So…do you think we’ll get anymore people tonight?
HM: Well, it’s been snowing all evening, and no one wants to go out when the weather is bad.
SM: Yeah this bad weather has really kept people away from the theater. I guess everyone is staying at home tonight.
HM: It’s a pity, the show is quite good.
Of course if it were Spring or Summer, the conversation would go like this:
SM: So…do you think we’ll get anymore people tonight?
HM: Well, the weather’s so nice this evening, and no one wants be sitting in a dark theater when the weather is so nice.
SM: Yeah this good weather has really kept people away from the theater. I guess everyone is enjoying the pleasant weather tonight.
HM: It’s a pity, the show is quite good.
The point is this. There will ALWAYS be obstacles that will deter people from coming to your show. Your job as a salesperson is to make your show so compelling that it overcomes obstacles. Imagine your friend is be driving home from a hard day at the office, when he remembers that your performance is tonight. Will he (or she) say, “I’ve had a hard day at the office. I think I’ll just go home and relax and skip the performance.”? Or will he (or she) say, “I’ve had a hard day at the office. I think I’ll go the the Fringe Festival and relax and have some fun.”?
The difference will depend on your ability to sell your show.
Earlier I mentioned that you should premier your show before the Fringe so that you’re confident in your ability to deliver the goods. Your confidence will help convince your friends that they should see your show.
So you’ve spoken with everyone you know about the show. You’ve asked them to come, though few people have actually committed.
About 5 weeks prior to the show, I began my letter writing campaign. Just a brief note to remind people that the big day is approaching, and that I’d be very happy if they could attend. I include a postcard with the dates and times. (It’s likely that I already gave them a postcard in person, but I send them another one, just in case they’ve misplaced it.)
By the way, if anyone asks, “What night is the best night to attend?” I tell them to come opening night, but to be sure to reserve their tickets in advance. (I’ll explain why in a bit…)
Also, I didn’t give out very many comps. The oft cited theory is that if you give away free tickets, it will generate word-of-mouth buzz which will translate into greater attendance. In my experience, people are grateful for the free tickets, but it does little to boost future ticket sales. True, if you’ve only sold 10 tickets, you can then fill the house with comps and thus create the illusion of a sold-out performance, but I had set my sights higher — I wanted every show to genuinely sell-out.
About 3 weeks out, I wrote a press release and got my name in the paper. Don’t worry if you’re not picked up by any of the major papers, even a small town paper will give you a little visibility. And you’re going to leverage this moment of fame. When I got a newspaper to pick up my story, I began emailing all my friends with a link to the on-line edition and the article generated even more interest in my show.
About 1 week out, I sent out another email with a Mapquest link since many of my friends were coming up from Denver and would not be familiar with my Boulder venue. Also, I gave them tips on where they could find parking, and advised them again to reserve their tickets in advance.
Remember how I told everyone to come on opening night if they could? Well my opening night performance played to a Standing Room Only crowd. And the sell-out crowd gave me one more opportunity to remind people about the show. So I sent out an email that night to all my friends warning them that the show was a big hit, and that people were turned away at the door. I advised everyone to reserve their tickets now, or risk being denied the opportunity to attend.
And with that, I ceased marketing and turned my focus to giving great performances.
Well, it was hard work, but all my efforts paid off. Of my six performances at the Fringe Festival, four of them sold out, and I earned the 2007 Encore! Performance Award for highest attendance at my venue. Was able to turn a handsome profit too. I know there was a good deal of buzz throughout the Fringe community with people wondering how I got so many people to come to my show.
Well that’s how I did it.
[Update: June 27, 2008. I forgot to mention when writing my friends I would use phrases like, "It's a show your whole family will enjoy." Or, "Enjoy a night out with your friends or co-workers." I've had too many experiences of having a friend show up, by themselves, on closing night, and tell me after the performance, "I really enjoyed that. I'll have to tell my co-workers about the show." But, of course it's too late.
For some reason, when I invited them to come to the show, it never occurred that they might also bring their friends, co-workers, and/or family. So I decided that I would help plant the idea. Just a reminder that it's more fun to Fringe with a friend.]
June 3rd, 2008 — Magic, Performance
Had a performance Saturday night at my semi-regular venue which shall remain unnamed. My presence at this venue is not a well-kept secret — obviously, hundreds of people see me there each week. I do not, however, advertise my performances at this venue, preferring to keep it as a place where I am free to experiment.
It is an old but cogent observation that magicians (and other performance artists) need a place where they can hone their craft on a regular basis. The truth is, as a performer, if you’re not logging consistent “flight-time” in front of a live audience, then you’re not performing at your peak. It is the bane of the amateur magician that every time they take the stage (after a prolonged absence), they’re walking in cold. As a result, their sleights will show some rust, their scripts will be a little stilted, and their audience interaction will be a bit flat.
Honestly, the audiences at my secret undisclosed venue are some of the most difficult audiences I work for. They have extremely short attention spans, in an environment that is full of distractions. And they force me to work hard to win them over. But it is the grueling conditions which attracted me to this venue to begin with. Being tempered in such fires means that I can take a “proper” gig (with a moderately attentive audience) knowing I’ll have them in the palm of my hand from the word go. (I was introduced to this strategy by my magical friend and colleague, Mike Michaels, who used to work during the intermissions at a strip club. When his act was strong enough to divert the attention of lascivious patrons, he knew he was ready to take on Las Vegas.)
Saturday night was an opportunity for me to continue breaking in some new material. Prestodigitorial technique can be developed in the practice room. Next it must be tested under the “fog of war” before a live audience. And most importantly, the presentation can only be truly discovered before an audience.
The magic in question is a piece that most magicians will be familiar with, the venerable “Six Card Repeat.” Mastering the technique is not difficult, however, presenting this piece of magic is quite a challenge. There are many subtleties and nuances in the presentation which require much attention. The crux of the performance rests upon finding the correct pacing and rhythm. Also crucial is signaling the audience as to when you are ready to receive their applause. It is a deceptively difficult piece to present, and yet from its inception I’ve sensed that it will grow to become a very strong opener, it having an almost hypnotic quality that rivets an audience’s attention.
If you are an amateur, striving to become a professional, my advice is to secure for yourself a “secret undisclosed location” where you can get regular stage time.