Tops Article



I’m Trying to Remember…

If our project this month was to make up a list of skills that the successful illusionist must have, what might they be? We’ll skip over such mundane requirements like talent and deep pockets.

I’ve written before that the illusionist needs a real sense of showmanship; he needs to command the stage in the manner of Mr Blackstone. The wonder worker must seem to be supremely in charge of his domain within the proscenium arch. He should appear confident and at ease. This helps the audience relax and it makes utilizing volunteers more effective because the spectators know that the artist is competent.

The illusionist needs to wear multiple hats: he often (and often, too, unwisely) is the show’s producer, director and writer. He must be able to make artistic decisions concerning costuming, scenery, and —perhaps— some special effects like fog, pyrotechnics and so on.

He must select and edit the music that accompanies his act.

You might argue that the sleight-of-hand worker who skillfully manipulates small objects needs all these things, too, but I think that each is more critical in the illusionist’s domain.

It occurs to me, though, that there is another skill that the successful illusionist needs and he’d better be good at it.

That skill is memory. I’m not referring to being able to remember the names of volunteers while they’re onstage (although that, too, is important and is damning when it is not in evidence). I’m also not referring to remembering the sequence of moves of your Linking Ring routine. I am referring to the seemingly endless little details required to stage a full-scale illusion act or show.

Someone once wrote (Ken Griffin, perhaps?) that there is no such thing as a perfect illusion show. There’s just too much that can go wrong. And, much of it goes wrong when somebody innocently just forgets.

Most of us are able to correct our mistakes so they do not happen again. I submit, though, that an illusion act has an unlimited number of things that can go wrong. We do not make the same mistakes over and over. Instead, we find brand new mistakes to make all the time. Most, of course, are inconsequential.

I recently performed a Sunday family matinee at a local college before an almost sold out house. I thought my cast and I were in top form. The audience was appreciative and everything was sailing along smoothly. Then we began Origami. I wheeled the illusion to center stage and introduced it with a few lines of patter. My costumed assistant entered and stood beside the prop.

The dramatic music began as I finished my intro: “Just make sure you watch as this mystery unfolds!”

As I began opening the box up I realized that whoever had closed it up had no idea what he or she was doing.

Now, the truth is that nothing was exposed and once I got it opened we executed the illusion just fine. But, I felt very awkward and I was sure it looked like I had no idea what I was doing as I struggled to get the thing opened up. Nothing was as it should have been.

After the show I demanded to know who had folded it up beforehand.

The actual answer was no one. It had just been assembled by one of my people. The assistant set her costume pieces inside without opening the box up so it was not apparent to anyone that it had not been properly ‘set.’

We’ll remember this next time and I’m sure this mistake will not happen in the future.

Several years ago no one remembered to attach the L-shaped hardware to Origami’s mirror so that it can attach to the illusion’s table. An assistant had to stand onstage holding the mirror in place. We’ve never made that mistake again, either.

And, years before that an assistant assembled this illusion by securely bolting the two rear legs to the table in a way that locked the bellows arrangement of the gimmick tight up to the table’s bottom. Now, that was an issue that could not be fixed. And, it was the closing illusion in that show!

I assure you that we will never make that mistake again.

Another recent snafu was arriving at the venue for an out-of-town gig and realizing that I had forgotten one of the assistant’s costumes (thankfully it wasn’t critical at all). But, I’d also neglected to bring along an empty half-gallon milk carton for Hospitality. We had arrived with enough time, though, to set up and then I ran to a nearby giant supermarket to buy some milk in the appropriate container (it’s not easy to find milk in these cartons now).

Our illusion acts are complex and the number of things to remember is mind-boggling.

It helps that most illusions travel in sturdy ATA road cases. It’s a safe assumption that everything will be there because all the apparatus is packed together. That’s why I am hesitant to ever remove a part of any prop from its case to use with something else. The odds of it not finding its way back to its home are just too great.

As your show expands you will have to delegate some authority to your staff. I, for instance, have never really operated my hazer unit or my Aqua Fog machine for the Asrah Levitation. My brain, I fear, is full and if I had to learn about them I might lose the sequence of moves for my Multiplying Bottles.

You can understand, then, how we somehow lost a roll of Rice’s silks for my Diminishing Silks routine. It’s usually done followed by a Silk Fountain and then the Crystal Casket illusion. Lately, though, we’ve paired the Crystal Casket up with the Sword Cabinet Mystery and not used the silk scarves. But, the silks, rolled up on cardboard tubes, traveled in the case with the Crystal Casket. They were taken out somewhere and set aside and, because we didn’t use them in that show, they were left behind who-knows-where. I noticed them missing in Detroit (luckily we did not need them there) and had to reorder all new silks from Rice. Unfortunately, 36” black Rice silks are all gone so I had to change my routine a little bit.

If you think that only small things get forgotten, think again.

We left stand-alone scenery units in Omaha that remained there until I was driving back from California and could pick them up. The curtain for the switch of my Abbott’s Canvas Covered Box was left at a venue once. Another time it wasn’t brought to a show!

I’ve arrived without the necessary brooms for the Broom Suspension. And, we left the huge case for the steps for my Owen Lion’s Bride illusion at a suburban Chicago hotel! Yes, the steps were in it!

My version of Abbott’s Temple of Benares features a rabbit going in the temple, being pierced with the swords, vanishing, reappearing and then having a lovely assistant appear as a surprise finish.

But, yes, we showed up once with the prop, but without the rabbit (he was safely in his cage at home) and I also neglected to pack the base of the illusion another time. I had everything else, but no way to perform it.

Certainly a list is the way to start as props and accessories are gathered up for a show. Keeping all parts of a routine together is another way to minimize these problems.

With your cast gathered together read the list aloud after your vehicle has been packed. When you say Sidekick, somebody may ask, “Did you remember the gun?”

My point is that you may see good illusionists and you may see scatterbrained illusionists, but I don’t think you’ll ever witness a good, scatterbrained illusionist.

There’s just too much that can go wrong.

I’m the living proof of that.

So, my advice is to become very, very detail oriented. The career you save will be your own!

David Seebach's Wonders of Magic
www.davidseebach.com



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