Entries Tagged 'Magic' ↓

The New York Times calls Jim Steinmeyer the “celebrated invisible man — inventor, designer and creative brain behind many of the great stage magicians of the last quarter-century.” And while I am not a large-scale illusionist (working instead in the realm of sleight of hand), I have the deepest respect for Mr. Steinmeyer and this thoughts on the art of magic.

In a lecture Steinmeyer gave earlier this year (”Robert Harbin & the Polemics of Modern Illusion,” February 2009), he offered his thoughts on why Robert Harbin’s illusions have become classics of modern magic.

One quality Steinmeyer identified was that Harbin’s illusions have “a way in for the magician.” That is, Harbin’s illusions — in their very construction — give the magician something to do (doors to open, panels to insert).

A good illusion allows plenty of room for the magician: things for them to do, elements to talk about and accentuate, and opportunities to be interesting or charming. Like a good song, they are meant to be performed, and they are designed to show off a great performance.

I would extend Steinmeyer’s observation to the performance of close-up magic by proposing this modification: Good close-up magic will have a way in for the audience.

That is, good close-up magic ought to be constructed to allow room for the audience. After all, the very proximity of the audience means that magician and audience share the stage together. Good close-up magic is magic that gives the audience things to do, gives them opportunities to be interesting or charming, allows them to share the limelight.

Magic that requires an audience member to pick a card and then merely sit and watch cannot reach the same potential as magic that gives the participants a way into the action, an opportunity to shuffle the cards, to secure the magician’s sleeves, to inspect the props.

Over the years, through a process of natural selection, I’ve observed that magic that doesn’t offer a way in for the audience (magic in which the audience simply sits and watches) has not earned a place in my professional repertoire.

My close-up magic that allows a way in for the audience is simply better.

As I was rereading “An Actor Prepares,” by Constatin Stanislavski I was struck by what he wrote about the actor’s need to maintain focus within a limited circle of attention.

Stanislavski’s actors were challenged to use the circle of attention to create the illusion of “solitude in public” (an oxymoron coined by Stanislavski to describe the actor’s ability to be “alone” on stage while on the other side if the footlights thousands of spectators watch).

The small circle of attention (3 foot radius) is the easiest circle in which the young actor can maintain focus, the medium circle of attention (10 foot radius) is more difficult, and the large circle of attention (30 foot radius) is the hardest.

As variety arts performers, we are not required to maintain the illusion of a “fourth wall,” separating us from our audience. We openly acknowledge, speak to, and perform for, our audience. But we can use this idea of circle of attention to help our performances too.

I’ve met many magicians who have perfected their focus and concentration to such a degree that they can be oblivious to anything that is happening outside their small circle of attention. While this can be a blessing for an actor on stage (for whom the audience — apparently — does not exist), this small circle of attention can be limiting to the variety arts performer.

This is not to say that there is no place for “solitude in public” in a magic performance; it can be used as a very effective device. But I’ve seen too many magicians who cannot expand beyond the small circle.

The small circle of attention is often sufficient for the close up magician who has his or her spectators in close proximity. But there are other performing situations where this will not do.

Busking for example (also known as street magic before David Blaine co-opted and redefined the term). Or trade show work.

The most common mistake I’ve seen close-up magicians make when trying their hand at busking or trade shows, is that they bring with them their small circle of attention (with which they’ve grown quite comfortable, and which — until now — has served them so well). But despite the fact that they perform the same magic as more successful buskers or trade show workers, they fail to draw a large audience.

Unfortunately, it’s not the size of the trick that determines the size of your audience. Great buskers can perform the tiniest of effects, but because they maintain a large circle of attention, they can hold an audience of 300 people spellbound.

And even in the performance of close-up magic where the small circle of attention might work, it is not the ideal. For variety arts performers, “solitude in public” must be the exception, not the norm.

So how does one grow their circle of attention?

• Master your magic, so that it doesn’t draw your attention inward. Contemplating secret maneuvers casts you back down into the small circle of attention.
• Open your posture so you can connect with the audience. If you’re hunched over, gazing at your hands (in the quintessential Dai Vernon pose), you’re minimizing your circle of attention.
• Be aware of what is going on around you. Turn your attention outward to see how much you can embrace. Let nothing escape your attention.
• Use your eyes, your voice, your hands, your body, and your feet to fill the space with your presence. Connect with as many people as you can.

I’ve seen many great magicians perform live (Bob Sheets, Doc Eason, Bob Read, Gazzo, Johnny Fox) and they all know how to maintain the big circle of attention. The time you spend learning to expand your circle of attention will be time well invested and should be a part of the curriculum for every magician.

[Took a break from blogging for the last month to devote my time to writing a short book. I wanted to have something to give to meeting and event planners offering my tips on how to get the most magic for their money.

Too often, I've found, event planners give great thought to the venue and the food and the decor and the music, but forget to consider how the magic is going to fit in. So I hope to describe, from a magicians point of view, the elements that allow for a successful magic performance.

After spending my time at the keyboard, I've usually exhausted my quota of words and have few left for blogging, but tonight I am compelled to share a short story...]

I mentioned in an earlier post the importance of performing the right magic for the right audience, particularly when performing strolling or walk-around (or table-hopping) magic.

One of the most difficult situations to successfully navigate is when you find yourself performing for a young couple on a date. This can be a very delicate situation for two reasons:

First, the couple is more interested in talking with each other, than talking with a magician. And second, because the gentleman is trying to impress his date, he will not enjoy being fooled, and he will not enjoy it if his date is overly impressed with your abilities.

If, as a professional magician, you ever encounter couples on dates, it is a good idea to have something in your arsenal of magic to address this situation.

What can you do that won’t make your performance a pointless intrusion? What can you do that won’t cast anyone as a loser for failing to uncover your method?

My recommendation: The Anniversary Waltz.

Those in the trade will know that this was a creation of Chris Carter’s and that it was greatly popularized by Colorado magician Doc Eason. It’s perfect for couples celebrating their anniversary, but I seldom wait for such a rare occasion; I use it anytime I detect a romantic connection.

The plot is this: Each person selects a card and signs their name on the face of the card with an indelible marker. The cards are lost in the deck. Then HE finds HER card, SHE finds HIS card, then two cards find each other. And finally, when held between their hands, the two cards permanently fuse together (back to back) with his card and signature on one side and her card and signature on the other side.

The couple is left with a memento that illustrates their two lives coming together.

And that’s the brilliance of this particular presentation — it’s a piece of magic that is about them (not you). And after all, that’s what they’re really interested in anyway.

So what prompted this post?

Last night I was reminded of the power of this piece of magic when I performed the Anniversary Waltz for a young couple.

At the conclusion, he blurted out, “Can we REALLY keep this card?”

And she said, “I’m so happy I think I’m going to cry!”

Powerful magic indeed.

The man who popularized the Anniversary Waltz, Doc Eason

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.

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.

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…

1. 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.
2. 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.
3. 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.
4. 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.
5. 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.
6. 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.
7. 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…

[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.

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.

Aside from establishing your character and ensuring that your show has “something for everyone,” (see earlier posts) here are 8 things you can do to strengthen your script. If you’ve had any training in acting, then many of these will look familiar.

Add Conflict — The magician standing on-stage and unopposed is not as interesting as when the magician is in conflict. Conflict could manifest in a challenge from a spectator, or trouble with the props, forces of nature, or even telling a story about a past conflict.

Add Drama — It’s not enough to merely establish the semblance of a conflict. You must further emphasis in your script that the outcome is in doubt. If you can make the audience wonder, What’s going to happen? Will the magician succeed? If you can create genuine moments of uncertainty, then your act becomes riveting and stage-worthy. Remember those 30 seconds during Derren Brown’s Russian Roulette routine when he seemed flummoxed? Somehow his calculations had gone awry. What would he do next?

Raise the Stakes — Put more on the line. Can you, in your script, heighten the consequences of failure? If you promise to award $50 if you can’t find their card, you’ve given your audience a reason to be interested. If you announce that you’ve promised a severely ill child that you’ll break the World’s Record for him doing your strait-jacket escape, then you’ve succeeded at raising the stakes. Of course Derren Brown’s example above takes the cake.

Use Suspense — Suspense is an underused device in magic, whereas, surprise is an overused device. In your scripting, let them know what you intend to do, but then make them wonder if you can do it. Suspense involves all of the above: Conflict, Drama, and High-Stakes.

Use Repetition — Repeating a phrase or a sequence of actions can establish a rhythm. Now if you control the time between repetition you can establish a tempo which you can increase or decrease.

The Rule of Three — It’s an old saw, but if you are going to repetition, the third time around is a good place to close strongly.

Modulate Your Status — Magic (or any act that puts you in the spotlight) will raise your status. Don’t be an overbearing bore. Let people know you’re human. I have a theory that being heckled simply means your status has stayed too high for too long. Script your act so that your not alway God-like; people will like you better.

One Sentence Description — Can your audience accurately describe what you do in one sentence? You can help them remember your magic by first limiting the scope of what you do (a real nuts & bolts way of scripting). Then use your script to help clarify (in the minds of your audience members) what it is that you do by spelling it out. Give them the talking points that they can use the next day when they tell their friends, “I saw this magician and he…”

Magicians are often at a loss when it comes to “finding” their character. Much ink has been spilled in an attempt to advise, partly because so many magicians are perplexed, and partly because it is a difficult subject to tackle. Here is my contribution.

In an earlier post I mentioned several archetypes for magicians (courtesy of Bob Sacamento), but how does one know which archetype one should play when creating their role as a magician?

The most sure-fire way I know is to find a director that you trust, and ask.

That’s easy to say coming from a theatrical background, but for most magicians, this opens up a whole other can of worms, as most magicians are fiercely independent and aren’t interested in taking direction from someone else. It is a foolish attitude to take, because — if you think deeply about it — you’ll realize that you cannot see how you come across to others. Only someone other than you can know what it’s like to see you as a performer.

A simple example is this: Do you know how your voice sounds to others?

Most people don’t know, because the sound you hear when you speak is different than the sound I hear when you speak. This is due to the fact that your voice is carried to your ear through the air and through the bones of your head. Whereas, your voice is carried to my ear solely through the air.

If you’ve ever heard yourself on a tape recording, you probably thought that the recorder had distorted your voice. Well, the recorder was fine. You just don’t know what you sound like to others, because you can’t hear yourself objectively.

Jason Alexander (aka George Costanza from Seinfeld) tells that as an acting student he was obsessed with playing Hamlet, yet every director he auditioned for would instead cast him in a different role. This infuriated Jason because he knew he could be a great Hamlet, but he finally came to realize that directors (and audiences) would never be able to see him as Hamlet. And when he understood this, it freed him to begin developing his talents as a comic/character actor.

Magicians who are courageous enough to subject themselves to the unflinching eye of a director can learn a lot about themselves (and the characters they can play) in a very short time.

But let’s assume that you can’t bring yourself to work with a director. What can you do?

Try this: Ask a dozen of your closest friends to participate in an anonymous survey. Ask each of them to list 10 things that he or she really LIKES about you. (A more insightful exercise would be to ask them to list things that they dislike about you, but your friends might balk at this, and your ego would most certainly take a blow.)

Then take all the lists and compare them. Can you identify any themes? What do people like about you? Do people like you because you’re gentle, humble, and thoughtful? Or because you’re mischievous, daring, and playful? How about assertive, outspoken, and sarcastic?

Whatever the case may be, this insight into how others see you is pure gold. You can begin to base your character on this information. Go back to the list of archetypes; do any of them resonate with what your friend say about you?

Then go back and evaluate each piece of magic that you do. Does the magic support, emphasis, and evoke the things that people like best in you. Or (as is often the case) does the magic undermine, stifle, and retard your best assets?

Look though your repertoire and root out anything that doesn’t allow you to showcase your strengths, or that tries to remake your image in a way that runs counter to how you are perceived by others.

I know a magician who (when he’s not on stage) makes us laugh with his self-deprecating humor. He always delights us with stories about his failures and shortcomings. He’s the epitome of the “lovable loser.” But when he gets on stage he wants to portray himself as an elegant and sophisticated gentleman.

The result is a disaster.

Because he is unable see himself as we see him, he’s using his magic to create a character that no one would ever believe, while at the same time abandoning the character that could make him famous.