Where Magicians Improve Their Craft

Month: October 2021

Tropes: A Cautionary Tale

Full disclosure: I’ve used most of these at one point or another in my career and I can’t apologize enough…

Here an incomplete list of the tropes we can let retire:

  • “My favorite trick” Presentation: I once saw a show where a magician introduced FOUR different tricks this way. Even if you say it once, let it be true and don’t let it be an excuse for a lazy narrative presentation to follow.
  • “This was my very first trick” Presentation: See above.
  • Magician in Trouble: You had better be a darned good actor to pull this off at all. But now that I think about it, you can probably just let it go altogether.
  • “And that was my first time seeing snow”: No, it wasn’t.
  • Business cards that list every type of service under the sun.
  • Envelopes with Question Marks on them: WE GET IT! There’s a super mysterious prediction inside. Is that really the best vehicle for your prediction or is it just that you saw someone else do it once and figured it was good enough?

I can feel my teeth clenching, so I’ll pause for now!

Process

Magicians don’t often talk about their “Process” – probably for good reason. My guess is that most of us don’t take as hard a look at WHY and HOW we’re creating things as other types of performers.

I think it stems from hiding our technique. When you see a painting, the technique is on vivid display. There’s certainly a distinction between the technique and the resulting piece, but there’s not the stark separation we experience with magic. The final product (the Effect) is all the audience is allowed to see and the technique (the Method) stays hidden.

I have a whole other rant on that for another day, but I want to follow this thread of accountability. When our technique isn’t on view, we take away non-magicians’ ability to critique it. And without the (fear of? ) critique from the general public on our technical abilities, we don’t feel the pressure of creating in an intentional, thoughtful way.

The number of shows I’ve seen from magicians that are nothing more than trick parades tied together by the thinnest of threads (usually “I think it’s a cool trick”) is immense. We can do better.

Our shows can go somewhere. They can communicate our beliefs. They can share about ourselves and bring our audience into our lives. But only if we craft them to do that.

And to craft something well, we need to understand the process of its creation. Everyone’s particular process will be unique, because its defining characteristic is what works for you.

My main point: a PROCESS is not a FORMULA. A formula is cold and rigid. It follows the exact same steps to produce consistent results. It’s necessary and has its place, but does not make for honest, unique artistic expression. A formulaic show would be simply plugging in a flashy piece in your first slot for the mere fact that it’s visual (with the implicit assumption that audiences have to have magic right away). A formulaic show would put the multi-phase mind reading effect at the end because the layered reveal gets a big reaction (remind me to talk about agency some other time). A formulaic show assumes there’s a “right” or “commercial” way to do things and – in the process – removes the soul and the rich uniqueness of YOU from what you’re sharing with the world.

A process involves and understanding of where we’re trying to get. It looks at the current goals, the resources we have at hand, the audience’s perspective and pulls on a toolbox of resources to create the show that serves the situation. A process means being aware and making intentional decisions each and every time. A process is exhausting and deep and is what allows us to present shows that are more than the sum of its parts because the tricks serve the purpose of a greater whole.

Process > Formula