Forgive me, but I am going to diverge from my usual main topic of magic's great stage illusions this month to address an issue that has been bothering me lately. I noticed it one week ago when one of my agents booked me at a suburban library for a pair of performances for their summer reading program.
I have a soft spot for libraries since my Dad was the chief of circulation for the entire Milwaukee Public Library system for years. He began his employment when he was a teenager back in 1916 and retired, only because it was mandatory at age seventy, in 1971! He was known as "Mr. Library" in Milwaukee and was often the face of its system. You won't be surprised to learn that my first paid appearances were at Milwaukee's neighborhood libraries. I'm sure Dad leaned on some of the staff to hire me (for about ten dollars!) to perform for an audience of my peers. I recall that I was about the same age as the spectators.
Of course I also received the obligatory calls to appear at children's birthday parties. Johnny or Suzie would be turning ten or eleven and I was summoned to entertain the youngster and his or her friends.
The audience last week was huge and I marveled as busses pulled up and disgorged lots of little moppets... very little moppets. As they continued to file in, I was slightly unhappy that I'd brought along a set of Abbott's Hippity-Hop Rabbits and not the Owen Magic Supreme The Giant & the Dwarf. I was happier, though, that I did not have my Hamilton Card Duck and Abbott's Short & Long Rope as routines that I needed to do "for time."
You see, these youngsters were too young to know the Eight of Spades from the Five of Clubs and using scissors to cut rope would have been impossible for their wee fingers.
My phone still rings with the pleading question, "Do you do children's parties?" When I tell them that I do, I often hear that it's a Mom or Dad looking for entertainment for Johnny's or Suzie's birthday party.
"How old will the birthday child be?" I ask.
Let me tell you, it's never ten or eleven anymore: it's four or five. Just this morning I fielded a call to perform at a daycare facility for two and three-year-olds. At least once I've been asked to perform for an infant's first birthday! I presumed that the show would actually be for older siblings and relatives.
"No, little Tommy loves magic. He always watches it on TV," I was told.
Sure. He also watches ads for Preparation H and funeral pre-planning.
I suspect magic is no longer cool for the older kids. They want to shoot each other with paintballs or climb rock walls.
I am aware that there are children's entertainers who specialize in the preschool daycare crowd. I'm not convinced they're magicians, however. I suspect they tell stories, sing songs and, almost as an afterthought, remove their red clown nose and, since it's actually a sponge ball, execute a rudimentary sleight.
"Hey! My nose disappeared. I'm a magician!"
I'm not buying it. To appreciate magic you must have what I call "experience at life." How can it be impressive if you don't know it's impossible? It seems to me almost everything is possible to a two-year-old.
I don't think there's anything we as magical entertainers have done. The only constant is change, and kids and their parents have relegated magical entertainment for the youngest years.
My routine with the Card Duck requires the helpers to identify and know their cards, and one has to spell his out at the routine's conclusion. The loud clunk of the Twin-Die Boxes does not clue in a three-year-old for the sucker finish.
My Owen Linking Rings are twelve inches in diameter; what three-year-old could stretch out the chain of three?
Those are just the easy examples.
How can I justify the Hollywood Bra and Sword Thru Neck?
OK, OK, I had to have some fun with my readers as I do not actually perform the Sword Thru Neck for youngsters under seven.
I suspect I may receive an angry response from a reader who promotes himself (or herself) as a performing artist presenting magic and mystery for two, three and four-year-olds. I'm sure they do promote themselves.
I bet they find work.
But, are they magicians? I don't think so. In fact they're not much more than storytelling babysitters. And, I guess there's nothing wrong with that.
My long-awaited book, So You Want to be an Illusionist, is printed and available for purchase. This sixty-six page, spiral-bound volume is full of information and details about many of magic's grand stage illusions. It's aimed at the performer who has some years of real experience presenting shows, but who has not added illusions to his or her repertoire. It's priced at $25 plus $5 for Priority Mail shipping. You can send me a check or pay by PayPal. Abbott's proprietor, Greg Bordner, may have a few copies on hand, too, so if you're placing an order you can just add this to your shopping list.
