I can tell you with some authority that it works.

At the moment, I’m in Osaka, Japan and haven’t had a single bout with jet lag since my arrival three days ago. After the fourteen hour trip (which I’ve taken over 20 times), I’m usually demolished for the coming week. This time around, however, I’ve been alert since I hit the ground and have slept like a baby each night.

Here, in Peter’s words, is the secret he shared with me in person. At the end, I’ll add a few extra comments of my own.

FIRST, DON’T EAT MUCH ON THE PLANE. Remember, most people don’t eat airplane food because they’re hungry (and that includes food you bring on the plane yourself). They eat food on planes because they’re bored. And even on planes that serve food, keep in mind that there’s a good reason that almost all airline food is cooked at least twice: It’s almost impossible to maintain moisture at altitude. That may explain why it’s almost always coated with that thick mystery sauce. Why eat that? If you do want to eat, do what I do. Bring fruit (in my case apples) and drink low/no sodium club soda or sparkling water.

SECOND, AVOID ALCOHOL. Because of altitude, pressurization and dehydration, one drink during your flight has the alcoholic equivalent of nearly two and a half on the ground. Instead, drink as much water as you can. But one important note: Try and buy your own bottled water once you clear security. I don’t trust many airlines to serve me bottled water. In fact, a number of airlines that don’t stock enough bottled water on their flights place their flight attendants in an awkward position. And in many cases, that results in the flight attendants refilling empty water bottles with the water carried in the plane’s holding tanks. Talk about a bacterial breeding ground. (Flight attendants even have an appropriate nickname for that water — “tappian.”) So, unless you see the flight attendant physically twist and then snap open a cap from the top of the bottle, don’t drink it.

THIRD, IF YOU FEEL LIKE SLEEPING ON THE FLIGHT, SLEEP. If you feel like working or watching the movie, that’s OK too. Then, at least twice during the flight, avoid getting hit by the beverage cart, and at least make an attempt to walk around the cabin.

FOURTH, AND PERHAPS MOST IMPORTANT,  it’s what you do once the plane lands that will make the biggest difference in your battle to avoid jet lag. No matter what time you land, no matter how long the flight, you MUST stay up until at least 11 p.m. local time. This is the most difficult, but most also the most important, challenge you’ll face. If you succumb to the temptation to take that 4 p.m. nap, no one will see you for three days — and that includes YOU! Almost inevitably, you’ll feel sleepy around 2 p.m. on the first arrival day. Do not eat a heavy lunch. Stand up. Take a walk. Go out and shoot hoops if necessary, but do not take that nap. If you do, you’ll find yourself awake at 3 in the morning watching bad ab-sizer infomercials.

Again, stay up until at least 11 p.m. (in my case midnight) and then hit the sack. Will you totally cycle? Most likely, you will average about five hours of sleep. But the second night, again staying up until 11 p.m., you will sleep your normal cycle.

Then, on your return flight home, repeat the entire process.

—

In addition to Peter’s plan, I also have avoided eating bread both during the flight (don’t eat the bread rolls they offer) and once I arrived. Instead, I’ve continued to drink massive amounts of water, and eat more protein than usual.

Another tip that may have helped is ginger. I brought along crystallized ginger candy and ate it during and after the flight.

I’m on vacation in Japan for two weeks, and look forward to staying awake all day, every day, thanks to Peter Greenberg and his great advice. I sincerely hope it helps you on your next trip too.

The post How to Avoid Jet Lag appeared first on Chamber Magic.

An old-time vaudeville, burlesque and U.S.O. Camp Show entertainer named Don Seth told Lee:

“In every audience you entertain, there will be a little boy who had to save his nickles and dimes to be able to come to see your show. It may not be much money by your standards, but it is a lot to him. Give him his money’s worth.”

Don continued, “Every time you step on stage, there is a little boy in the front row who is seeing his first real, live magician. The image you create in his mind is the one which will stay with him for the rest of his life. Make it a good first impression.”

“And somewhere in every audience,” he continued, “is a little boy who could be playing in the park, or watching television, or doing his homework but instead has chosen to spend his one, precious, irreplaceable commodity – his time – with you and your show. You must reward his good faith with an equal effort of your own. You owe him the very best performance you can give.”

The next time you step on stage, look over your audience and, in each and every person present, be sure to see that little boy.

The Lee Earle quote comes from his book Pieces of My Mind (2001).

The post Remember The Little Boy appeared first on Chamber Magic.

The post Command a Room Like a Man – from ArtOfManliness.com appeared first on Chamber Magic.

Dear Mr. Cohen,

I am a magician in [name of town] trying to build my client base and marketing reach.

I would like to use your idea of doing parlor magic using a high end hotel as a base. Would you object if I used that approach here in [name of town]?

Any advice you can offer would be appreciated. Do I split ticket sales with the hotel? Or, does the hotel pay me a fee and take all ticket profits? Does the hotel supply drinks as a part of the show price? How long should the show be? How much should tickets be? etc. etc.

—

Before I offer an extremely rare rant (not the type of prose you’ve come to expect from me), here is my form-letter response:

Thank you for writing.

I wish that I had some secret formula that I could explain, at no charge to you. But the fact is that I’ve spent ten years creating my business, and I’m unable to pass along this knowledge to anyone who asks.

Having said that, here is the advice that I’ve sent out to other magicians who want to start their own shows.

1. Hire a good publicist (usually between $4500 to $9000 per month)

2. Expect to lose money for the first 2 years

3. Stick with it nevertheless

4. Word of mouth advertising takes a long time to build to critical mass. (For me it took five solid years)

5. Don’t expect the venue to be helpful in promoting the show – do it all yourself. Later, when they see it’s successful (3 or 4 years later), the venue will come on-board to help promote.

6. The show needs to be held often (not once a month, but at least once a week)

—

And I never hear from them again.

This cycle has played itself out many times over the years, because people see my fully formed business, and think to themselves, “I want THAT.” What they lack in understanding is that the final product is the result of years and years of trial and error. There are no codified rules that I can toss down from my hotel tower.

I remember going to a jazz club once in Tokyo. The musicians were highly skilled, whipping out rollicking licks that they’d practiced years to learn. But they didn’t have heart. They didn’t have the texture of New Orleans jazz players. They were imitating “Jazz Music” wholesale, in a way that had been presented to them as a learnable format. The ‘what’ was there, but the ‘why’ was not.

If you want to start a one-man public show, you have to ask yourself, “Why?” Do you intend to make money, become famous, use the show as a vehicle to get private bookings? A combination of these?

If you’re committing yourself to a weekend show schedule, will this cut into your private bookings? Will the dream of starring in your own show cause you to sacrifice “real work”?

The purpose of my show has evolved over the past ten years. In the beginning, I suppose I was like many of the fellows who write to me today: I performed at private events hither and yonder, and was looking for ways to expand my reach. I figured that if I had a showcase to invite prospective buyers, they would be able to make informed decisions before deciding to employ me.

A main difference, though, is that I already had an act. I didn’t need to formulate a brand new act and a business plan at the same time. Also (and this is a biggie): I was willing to lose a lot of my own money because I believed in my concept.

I can’t take any credit for the concept of performing an intimate magic show in a hotel. Magicians have been performing in hotels for years. I was fortunate to be introduced to the Waldorf after having started the show in my friend’s apartment, and later at a private club.

Magicians who write to me, though, seem to think that a hotel would NEED a magic show in the first place. Or that a hotel will benefit from having an in-house magician. “It will attract people to the hotel! The bar will sell drinks to the audience members!” they say. The sad fact is that a “magic show” is nowhere near top-of-consciousness for hotel executives who are concerned with bottom lines, managerial reviews, and property owner evaluations.

If you persevere and eventually start a show like this, you also need to keep it running. That means you need a steady stream of general admission audience members. In the beginning you can obviously comp in friends, family, clients, prospective buyers, and so on, to help fill the seats. But after a very short while, you run out of people who you know. And you can’t rely on the venue (hotel/club/etc) to do you any favors. On the contrary, they will likely ask for you to comp in their VIP guests as well. If you’re attempting to make money in this venture, you may have to think twice.

As I type this, I realize that I have a lot to say on the topic. Ten years of details, in fact. But I’m not planning on releasing this information at this time. Sorry to those who have been asking, but no books, dvds or ebooks are in the works. Two or three years before I retire from Chamber Magic, I do plan to hand-pick and mentor some other magicians so that they can carry on with the work I’ve begun. Until then, I plan to keep performing at my beloved Waldorf Astoria, where the staff and I have become family, and we work together to entertain the refined, smart and stylish guests who expect nothing less than an exceptional evening.

The post How NOT to start your own one-man show appeared first on Chamber Magic.

For a change of pace, however, I’ve been on a two-week summer vacation in Japan with my family. As I write this, I’m aboard a Boeing 777 aircraft on the flight home to New York. We visited my wife’s parents in Osaka, and spent a good deal of time in Tokyo (one of my favorite cities in the world).

As much fun as I had during the past two weeks with my wife, children and local friends, I’m eager to return home to get back to my shows. Call it the “show-biz itch” if you will. The time I feel most alive is when I’m on stage performing. It’s what I’ve trained my entire life to do. On stage, I’m in the world of my own creation, and as someone who is prone to control many aspects of his life, it’s one of the safest places to be.

For the past ten years, the rhythm of my life has been defined by being at the Waldorf-Astoria every weekend, in front of an audience. This routine brings me calmness. Most people look forward to the weekend for time away from work. Remember TGIF? I look forward to the weekend for the opposite reason – it’s the time I can roll up my sleeves and get down to business.

While in Japan, I performed magic informally for friends, and it was very well-received. (Japanese people, in my experience, love magic and their reactions are often over-the-top. Think high-pitched squeals of delight.) However, these short performances were usually over dinner, or in people’s living rooms – not formal shows.

The excitement leading up to a performance still continues for me, even though my formal shows have been running for ten years. When it stops feeling exciting, it’ll mean one of two things – either time for another vacation, or time to shut down the show.

For now, I’m glad I took two weeks off. It helped reaffirm my passion toward my work. I’ll be home Wednesday and have one day to recuperate before appearing in five shows this weekend.

Must…stay…awake…

The post The Show-Biz Itch appeared first on Chamber Magic.

What is Situational Awareness?

Situational Awareness, in its simplest sense, means knowing what is going on, so you can figure out what to do.  Any time you have a high flow of information, if you make a poor decision on that information, it could result in disaster. It’s crucial to be trained in Situational Awareness as a pilot, and this awareness becomes better and better with experience, during what’s known as “flight time.”

It doesn’t only apply to pilots, but to anyone who must make decisions quickly that could result in catastrophe or death: paramedics, surgeons, police officers, firefighters, and SCUBA divers.

Scot Evans, the pilot I interviewed, was in the Coast Guard for 21 years. During that time he did everything from serving as a rescue swimmer and jumping out of helicopters, to salvage diving and underwater construction and welding.

Now, he pilots an Embraer Legacy 600 for business people, rock stars and A-list movie stars.

He’s a pretty amazing guy.

Here are some photos of Scot during his Coast Guard days:

Scot in Mark V surface supply rig

Scot cutting steel underwater using oxy-arc method

According to Scot, Situational Awareness doesn’t come naturally, other than through close calls during your experience of life. If you have close calls with death, you start to think, “Hey, I’d better figure out what’s going on, so I can figure out what to do to stay alive.”

What is the mindset of someone with strong Situational Awareness? The first step is the perception of the environmental elements within a particular volume of time and space. It’s not only paying attention to where you are moving within three dimensional space, because it’s actually four dimensional — you also have the dimension of time. That’s crucial. The second step is comprehension of everything you observe, and what each detail means. That comprehension is very quickly followed by projecting the status of those elements into the future.

So you’re calculating the events and predicting the outcome. In a way, you’re watching yourself as a third person, and seeing yourself in the future. And you’re figuring out what those elements are going to do to you in the future. You’re always asking yourself, “What could happen next?” and “What do I need to do, if that happens?”

The OODA Loop

A US Air Force fighter pilot, Colonel John Boyd defined this system of attention as the OODA loop: Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. As you are fulfilling the final step (“act”), you must rapidly loop back to the first step again, observing how your action has played out. As you’re engaged in the process of flying, you must constantly observe, orient, decide and act, to determine your next maneuver.

You’ve probably heard the expression “to be out of the loop.” This phrase was directly created as a result of Boyd’s OODA loop. It essentially means that you are neither aware of your surroundings nor of the events that have unfolded during your lapse in attention.

Here’s the part that I found most interesting. If you’re able to operate faster than your opponent (assuming that you’re flying a fighter jet against an enemy pilot), you can get inside his loop, and anticipate how he’ll act next. The rapid decisions you make serve to rattle your adversary, resulting in a lapse in his ability to judge your next move.

In the world outside of fighter jets, which is all the rest of us, the speed at which you think can help you anticipate how a client/audience/opponent will act, even before he does so.

Here’s how I think about this as an entertainer.

Life and Death On Stage

When an audience responds with wild enthusiasm, show biz veterans walk off stage and proudly announce, “I killed them” or “That killed.” In magician-generated literature – catalogs, instruction sheets, and product reviews – it’s common to find phrases such as “This trick will devastate any audience.”

Is a magic show truly a life or death exchange? At first glance the answer may seem to be no. In my opinion, however, a single moment that is unforeseen by the magician can instantly kill the experience of magic for an audience. A magic show is a delicate and frail interplay that relies on an unspoken contract between audience and magician. The audience knows that they will be fooled, and the magician agrees to offer them the sensation of experiencing an impossibility. However if the magician does not exhibit Situational Awareness, he may, during the course of his act, accidentally expose the secret of his trick, and therefore kill the sensation of magic for the rest of the performance.

It is difficult to recover from an obviously botched trick, or something simpler such as a brief flash of a hidden gimmick that the audience catches. At that moment, the audience is smacked with the clarity that this is not “magic” any longer, but rather a fellow who is executing a series of actions that fouled up.

In that moment, the show has a seizure. I’ve been there. It’s not pretty.

So, having done my Chamber Magic show thousands of times, I have obtained a strong sense of Situational Awareness, and can foresee possible mistakes. I “watch” myself perform, imagining what the show looks like from the audience perspective. I make adjustments and changes along the way to preserve the integrity of the show. This comes from becoming comfortable enough with the material that I’m not thinking about the technique involved. It’s become so internalized that I can pay attention to the flow of the performance, and how any minor mishaps that occur now, will affect the show later.

One way to learn how to “watch yourself perform” is to take a dance class. When I was in college I took a jazz dance class, to fulfill a phys ed requirement. I was a lousy dancer, but the class offered me my first exposure to standing in front of a wall of mirrors. I observed how my body looked to an audience, how the shape of my body appeared. From that class, I took the “wall of mirrors” concept and internalized it. Even when no mirrors are available, I visualize how my performance would look if I were observing myself – the shapes my body make, the hand gestures, the angles which I point my feet.

Like I said, I’ve internalized this now, so if an issue arises, I think about how to solve the issue in the most unobtrusive way from the audience’s perspective.

Ideally, Situational Awareness helps you to foresee problems before they occur since you are projecting the current events out into the future.

How have you experienced Situational Awareness in your life? Have you ever been able to avoid or deflect a life-threatening (or other) issue due to Situational Awareness?

The post Situational Awareness – my interview with a private jet pilot appeared first on Chamber Magic.

Here’s a photo of me, in between shows at the Waldorf, wearing my plush bathrobe. I was practicing a card trick.

I’ve never released casual photos like this one before. It feels somewhat obscene.

For those who are interested in formalwear, two of my tuxedos are actually morning coat ensembles from Gieves & Hawkes, the British tailor located at No. 1, Saville Row, London. (In modern American English, morning coats are known as cutaway coats.) I bought both of my morning coats during trips to London. I’m eager to return, for another shopping spree.

This is the ensemble that I often wear:

The third tux is a standard black dinner jacket combination, and the fourth is a Scottish black watch dinner jacket.

I don’t wear this plaid dinner jacket very much anymore, since it’s a little gaudy. And that’s coming from a guy who prances around in a tailcoat.

You can buy the same bathrobe that I wear at the Waldorf, by clicking HERE. Warning: it’s so comfortable, it’s addictive.

The post Relaxing between shows appeared first on Chamber Magic.

There was a stretch of time when I felt a giant disappointment after my weekly performances. The flip side of two high-energy ninety minute shows, back to back, is the inevitable drop back to reality. For three hours, I gave pleasure and excitement to my audiences – brain and body working at full tilt. Yet, at that time, there was little pleasure in it for me.

The painting above resonated with me during this time of my life. It depicts Stanczyk, the famous 16th-century Polish jester. Having read about his life as a royal entertainer, I found that the true events represented in the painting differ from my interpretation. Looking at Stanczyk, I could see myself sitting there in the chair, all dressed up in performance costume after a show. The aristocratic audience he just entertained are visible in the background. While the jester sits drained and dejected, the guests continue their revelry in the next room. He completed his role as purveyor of levity and is left to himself, unwelcome to join the ongoing party. I could really relate to this…

The entertainer is ultimately the perpetual outsider, a service provider — one of the “help.”

It’s easy to feel alone when you’re not invited to join those who you’ve entertained.

David Bamberg wrote the following passage in his marvelous autobiography Illusion Show:

“The curtain falls for the last time as the applause fades away and later you sit alone in the empty, darkened theatre watching the boys pack the illusions, the wardrobe mistress carrying bundles of clothes across the stage and the stagehands striking and folding the scenery. After a while there is only a bare brick-walled stage with a single pilot light picking out the crates and trunks scattered about and waiting for the trucks to take them away.

“Then you are really alone in that sea of empty seats and the color, light, music and warmth of the applause are just a memory, and in spite of all the excitement, you know it’s been a lonely life.”

Those words by Bamberg resonated with me. And they still do, to some extent.

However, I’ve discovered some ways to beat the post-performance blues that are felt by performers. It’s not uncommon for musicians, actors, dancers and athletes to feel depressed after an intense demonstration of their skill. A public performance is inevitably preceded by training, anticipation and personal denial. When the event is over, there’s no place left to go but down. Right?

Unless you can find a way to channel your high, or redirect your creative energies.

After my shows now, I have been inviting other magicians over to join me for a post-show “session.” We work on new material, show off our skills, and tinker with half-baked ideas that may have potential some day. This provides me, first, with company, and second with something to look forward to after a performance.

Other times I’ll bring a DVD or book with me. Before the show starts, I watch or read for a few minutes, and stop at a particularly suspenseful part – in the middle of an ongoing scene. I tease myself in this way so that I have something to look forward to later.

And finally, I often bring along a new trick or routine that I’m working on, for possible inclusion in my shows. After the audience has left, I quickly set up the props for my new trick and run through it in the exact performance space where it will be used. This is much more effective than practicing it at home or in a studio. Being on stage, you feel a sense of distance and spatial relationship that can only be learned through rehearsal in the actual performance space.

I’m usually very giddy to try out these new routines, so my creative energy is dialed up high. I’ll practice and work on new routines well past midnight, in search of the most refined handlings and presentations.

These types of coping technique have served me well for the past few years. Our reality is always what we make of it, and depression can be warded off by creating our own fun.

The post Post-Performance Depression: the lonely court jester appeared first on Chamber Magic.

I was upset to read this.

I believe that dressing up to go to the theater is a form of civility that should be resurrected.

Why have a dress code?

It’s important to dress properly to avoid the embarrassment of feeling underdressed.

At my shows, our published dress code is as follows:

A gentleman approached me before the show last weekend and gruffly asked, “Why did you make me wear a suit? This is a magic show, not a dinner with the President.” The answer that I gave him was, “This is a traditional show, and both the performer and audience are playing a role in that tradition.  Besides, we’re at the Waldorf, and everyone gets dressed up here.”

He calmed down, and thankfully enjoyed the show.

My goal has always been to encourage the public to treat magic with the same form of respect as the ballet or opera. Opera-goers dress in tuxedos and gowns out of respect to the opera experience. The respect I speak of is targeted not only to the artists involved, but to the overarching premise of the art itself.

If not for the actors, then please, for the Theater (with capital T).

The Magic Castle in Hollywood, California enforces a strict dress code – even stricter than mine at the Waldorf. Just off the entrance, they have a closet full of blazers in various sizes, as well as neckties, for men who forgot to dress properly.

I understand that tourists visiting from out of town may be walking and shopping earlier in the day, and may not have packed anything but casual wear. However, there is something to be said about dressing for the occasion.

I have happy Chamber Magic memories of my guests attending in tuxedos, military uniforms, and even a full kimono.

While such formal wear is not required, it certainly lends an air of elegance to the event – for all involved.

In Who Rules America, a book I find endlessly fascinating, the author takes this much further, and argues that such displays of extravagance are one of the ways that rich people communicate to each other their common membership in an elite group.

G. William Domhoff writes:

The more extravagant social activities of the upper class – the debutante balls, the expensive parties, the jet-setting to spas and vacation spots all over the world, the involvement with exotic entertainers – are often viewed by pluralists and Marxists alike as superfluous trivialities best left to society page writers. However, there is reason to believe that these activities play a role both in solidifying the upper class and in maintaining the class structure. Within the class, these occasions provide an opportunity for members to show each other that they are similar to each other and superior to the average citizen.

While I would never (!) go so far as to say that a nice suit makes one person superior to another, it’s easy to agree that the common denominator of dressing nicely at the theater helps to bond together a group of otherwise strangers.

The post Why a dress code at the theater? appeared first on Chamber Magic.

April 2010 marks the tenth anniversary of my show. It’s easy to keep track, since my son Alex is also ten years old. I now perform over 250 public live shows a year, and have entertained over 250,000 people at the Waldorf. Looking back at this record takes my breath away.

I have not mentioned this in print before, but since the very beginning my goal has always been to perform Chamber Magic for twenty years. There aren’t too many shows that have staying power. Not only magic shows, but theatrical shows in general.  Ten years have flown by, and I want to keep Chamber Magic alive for ten more. Maybe I’m crazy, but I love performing this show. I’ve molded my life around it.

A commonly asked question is, “Do you ever get bored?” I know instantly what they mean – whether or not I get bored of performing the same act over and over again. Although it’s developed and matured over the years, Chamber Magic is essentially the same show I started with in 2000.

Some entertainers “phone in” a performance. They’re singing/acting/speaking but it’s become rote, or stale.Their mouths are moving, and the correct words are coming out, but they’re actually thinking about what’s for dinner after the show.

In my opinion, a great magician must be able to make each show feel as if it’s his first AND ONLY time presenting the material.

Last month I had the great fortune to see my friend and mentor Juan Tamariz perform in San Diego at the Magic-Con conference. It goes without saying that his performance was exceptional. (Tamariz is my functional hero, and one of the finest magicians in the world.) But to me, something else stood out. He was as great this year as I remember him back in 1990. In other words, 20 years have passed yet he still provides his audience with the same energy, enthusiasm and gusto that I recall during my first encounter with him.

Tamariz reminded me that it can be done. It’s possible to maintain the highest standard of excellence in your work, even over many decades. I’m inspired by Tamariz, and also by music bands that boast long careers: the Rolling Stones, U2 and Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, for example.

So have I become bored? Not one bit.

The post A question I am often asked appeared first on Chamber Magic.