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MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Mark Sicher

Steve Cohen — Mon, 01 Feb 2016 05:01:08 +0000

Welcome to MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY. In this series, I introduce you to my magic mentors – people who have inspired me to become a better magician. Each Monday you’ll meet someone who has offered advice, or acted by example, to help steer my career.

Some of these people are alive, others no longer with us. Some are famous, others not so much. The beauty of mentorship is that you don’t necessarily have to meet your mentor face-to-face, nor even live during the same time in history. Many of the people who motivated me were alive a century before I was born! By reading classic books, old newspapers, and magazine articles, I’ve tracked down stories about their lives and work that continue to inspire me to become a better entertainer.

My “big three” mentors are Max Malini, Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser, and Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin. Each of these giants has been featured in previous weeks. You’ll also read about more contemporary figures like Harry Lorayne and Albert Goshman, non-magicians Danny Kaye and Sammy Davis, Jr. and even fictional characters like Willy Wonka.

How do mentors inspire? They set examples, helping us imagine how we too might solve a particular problem. By seeing the world through a mentor’s lens, we can learn more about them, and about ourselves, at the same time.

This week we’ll focus on one of my close friends and mentors, Mark Sicher, a brilliant young magician who tragically passed away at the age of 23 after battling cancer. In my eyes he was one of the greats, and he left us far too soon.

MARK SICHER

I met Mark Sicher at Tannen’s Magic Camp in the summer of 1985. I was 14, he was 15, and we were serious about our magic. Throughout high school, we phoned each other three to four times a week to exchange ideas, challenge each other, and develop our acts.

Steve Cohen (14), Harry Lorayne, Mark Sicher (15) at Tannen’s Magic Camp

Long before the age of Facetime and Skype, it was difficult to share the intricacies of sleight of hand over the telephone, but we prevailed. The minutiae had to be described rather than demonstrated, and we became pretty good at breaking down steps to their smallest components in order to teach each other: “As your right hand reaches across to pick up the glass, relax your left hand and ditch the coin. But keep your left fingers curled with your middle knuckle raised slightly, to give the impression that the hand is still holding a coin!”

Since Mark and I lived 45 miles apart, we arranged meetings every couple of months to share our magic in person. I hopped on a Metro North train in Chappaqua, NY and met Mark at Grand Central Station in Manhattan. From there we strolled to Tannen’s Magic shop, and then circled over to Reuben’s, the kosher deli where all the “heavies” in magic met every Saturday.

Mark Sicher learning coin magic from Sol Stone at Reuben’s

Mark knew the regular members at Reuben’s better than I because, as a Manhattanite, he attended their weekly gatherings. He was on a first-name basis with the legends of the New York magic scene, people I had only read about in magazines: Harry Lorayne, Ken Krenzel, Gene Maze, Frank Garcia, Sol Stone, among others.

In Mark’s early days attending these sessions, Harry Lorayne recalls that Mark acted like a puppy dog, following him, learning from him, and emulating him. Eventually, after observing and learning from the sidelines, Mark began to create his own magic, and was eager to show it to Harry for possible publication in his magazine about magic, Apocalypse. Mark’s creative output was so impressive that Harry eventually published 22 of Mark’s tricks in the magazine, including a one-man issue in 1990.

As Mark grew as a performer, he developed a comical character for his competition act. The character was named Dr. Mark Nathans, and he performed – not “mental” magic – but dental magic. Donning a white doctor’s lab coat, he performed tricks with items found in a dentist’s office: toothpaste, toothbrushes, mouthwash, and rubber dental dams. Although the theme was quite contrived, Mark knew his act would help him stand out from other competitors who entered magic contests.

He was right.

Mark places a dental bib on his “patient”

By combining original methods with a unique performing character, Mark won numerous high-profile competitions including the International Brotherhood of Magicians Close Up contest (1^st place, St. Louis, 1990) and Ron MacMillan’s International Close Up Magic contest (1^st place, London, 1990).

Due to our close collaboration on his act, I felt the joy of his victories when he returned home with trophies. Although Mark didn’t place in the 1991 FISM competition in Lausanne, Switzerland, we had a great time meeting our heroes at that convention. Regardless of the competition results, his strong performance drew the attention of European bookers who hired him to perform at conventions in England, Sweden, Czechoslovakia, and Germany. While I lived in Japan, I arranged a lecture tour for Mark to perform and teach in Tokyo, Kyoto, and Nagoya.

All the while, Mark was studying as an undergrad student at Connecticut College. Throughout his college years he continued to grow as a magician, organizing frequent on-campus shows that allowed him to perform regularly in small auditoriums. As these showcases grew in popularity, he tapped some of his friends to join him. These “friends” happened to be the finest comedy magicians in the world: Juan Tamariz, Mac King, David Williamson, and Tom Mullica. He flew them in to Connecticut College, put them up in a dorm room, fed them, and hung out for a day or two. Onstage Mark served as their opening act, and the visiting performer headlined. In addition to presenting world-class talent to his fellow students, Mark received a real education by sharing the bill with these exceptional entertainers.

David Williamson and Mark Sicher at Connecticut College

Mark Sicher and Juan Tamariz at Connecticut College

After graduating college in 1992 with a degree in Philosophy, Mark jumped feet-first into the world of professional show business. He was booked by the magician and agent, Bill Herz at corporate events and private functions, and made enough money to support his bachelor lifestyle – shooting billiards during the day, sharing a walk-up apartment in Chelsea with three roommates, and eating Thai food takeout nightly. I was still buttoning up my senior year in college at Cornell, and Mark’s freestyle career was both alluring and terrifying to me. He was making good money, following nobody’s rules but his own, and building up a reputation as one of the best young magicians in New York. Would I follow in his footsteps after I graduated from college?

In January 1993, Mark and his family received shocking news. Mark had developed a form of pediatric bone marrow cancer (osteogenic sarcoma) in his left arm.

Although he was 22 years old, Mark was admitted to the pediatric branch of the Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. Surrounded by small kids who were suffering from cancer, he did his best to brighten up the cancer ward by cracking jokes and performing zany tricks (for example, cutting and restoring his own intravenous drip tube!). By keeping the staff and other patients entertained, I believe that Mark was able to help manage his own pain over the coming year.

Struck by the courage of the children who were fellow patients, Mark decided to produce a benefit show that would raise money for the American Cancer Society’s Childhood Cancer Program. The event was titled: “Share the Magic: Miracles for a New Generation.” Honorary chairmen for the event were Harry Anderson, Alan “Ace” Greenberg, and Dustin Hoffman. Mark’s close friend Hiawatha Johnson Jr. was chosen to produce the show.

Mark organized the following stellar line-up by making calls from his hospital bed: Stan Allen, Mike Caveney, John Carney, Eric Dockery, Mike Douglas, Charles Green III, Bill Herz, Seth Kramer, Mac King, Norm Nielsen, Ryan Oakes, Ashley Springer, and David Williamson. With a cast that reads like a who’s who of magic, all were certain that this was to be an extraordinary event. Mark even planned to perform something on stage himself.

Sadly, however, sometimes even the best laid plans go awry, and that was the case here.

Continuous experimental treatments reduced the cancer’s growth, but when Mark’s frail bone broke, the cancer spread quickly to the rest of his body. He died on April 29^th, just one week before the scheduled show date on May 6^th.

The show went on, as scheduled, not as a somber memorial but a celebration of the extraordinary life of Mark Sicher, a young man who had brought joy and astonishment to people around the world. The event raised over $100,000 for the American Cancer Society, and Mark’s family helped produce two more Share the Magic events in later years to commemorate Mark’s love for life and his spirit of giving.

A memory from actor Dustin Hoffman…

“What I remember most vividly about my friend Mark Sicher was the intensity of his stare. He would not merely look at things, but seemingly looked around things, into things, so that his stare encompassed, embraced whatever he was looking at. Mark was an astonishing young man. I am forever grateful for having spent so many wonderful hours with him.” – Dustin Hoffman, 1/31/1996

What lessons have I learned from Mark Sicher?

**IT’S NOT WHAT YOU DO, OR HOW YOU DO IT. IT’S WHO DOES IT. IF THE WHO IS RIGHT, THE WHAT AND HOW MUST BE RIGHT.**

This lesson was handwritten on the front cover of Mark’s notebook.

As a philosophy student, Mark thought deeply about the relationship between a performer and his audience. After turning pro and working in the real world for non-ideal and occasionally unruly audiences, he changed his approach. In 1991 he sent me a letter that explained:

“I used to go into a show with the attitude that I have to win my audiences over. Now I go in thinking that I already have them… that they’re already with me. I don’t have to win them over. But if I’m not careful, I could lose them.”

He created a positive environment by shifting his mindset. Instead of overcoming the hurdle: “Will they like me?” he assumed: “They already love me. And since they love me, they will love what I have to share with them.”

BE BOLD

In his teenage years Mark developed excellent sleight of hand skills. He had learned coin technique from Sol Stone, card moves from Ken Krenzel, and misdirection from legendary magician Slydini. (Mark was Slydini’s last student, having taken lessons at his Hell’s Kitchen studio for two years.)

However, despite Mark’s ability to flawlessly execute challenging technique, he would often take a bolder approach. If he needed to vanish an object, he would simply lower his hand to the edge of a table, and drop the object to the floor! Of course he had preset a pillow or rolled-up towel in exactly the right location to absorb the sound of the falling object.

He took bold risks and when they paid off, they were sensational. For instance, Mark would secretly toss a coin into a spectator’s shirt pocket from a distance. He distracted them with a funny line, and when their guard dropped, he shot. I saw Mark do this countless times, noiselessly “swishing” a coin into someone’s pocket. Later he would vanish a duplicate coin (maybe dropping it to the floor as described above), and point to the spectator’s pocket for them to discover.

PEOPLE BOTH LOVE TO LAUGH AND FEEL AWE

I remember spending a summer with Mark at a private sleepaway camp in Avon, Connecticut. We were college students, and had been hired to teach magic classes to non-magicians for 6 weeks. One night in our cabin, Mark chastised me for being too in love with magic! I was startled and asked him to explain. He told me that he had been watching me perform for the campers and counselors. According to him, I had been focusing too much on the magic effect, but not enough on the audience’s experience. People walked away from my performances fooled, but not entertained.

Mark taught me by example. He rounded up an audience and performed one of my tricks, but in his own style. The reaction that MY OWN TRICK received was much stronger than I had ever experienced. He had infused the trick with funny asides, sight gags, and byplay with the audience to cover all of the necessary procedure. When it was time to deliver the magical effect, he switched off the humor and focused entirely on the trick’s climax. The reaction was miles beyond what I had ever experienced.

The magician’s goal, he explained, is to mystify, but the journey itself must also be interesting for the audience. Mark had amassed a supply of one-liners, sight gags, and physical comedy that had his audiences rolling in laughter. Right up to the moment of magic. One lesson I learned that summer is to never overshadow the magical effect with a gag. No matter how funny the joke or how hysterical the crowd has become, when it is time to deliver the magic – switch off the humor.

People love to laugh, and they also love to feel awe. Give them both.

PERFORM “LIVE”

That summer Mark also critiqued the way I delivered my patter. He said it sounded memorized and my jokes felt forced.

When Mark performed, he performed “live.” He was immersed in the moment, and riffed with his audience in a seemingly off-the-cuff manner. He treated the audience as real people, and aimed to share a fun experience with them.

This was a revelation to me. When I practiced magic, I recited my lines to an imaginary audience, and assumed that they would respond in a uniform way each time. Mark taught me otherwise. He would never perform his magic exactly the same way twice. Yes, he would use the same canned line that he’d said 100 times before, but it was always a little different because the audience was different. He listened to his audience and related to them like real, living people. His performances felt fresh because they were fresh. He performed “live.”

By listening to the audience, he let them guide him toward what works. Each performance provided him with more market research to learn what the audience enjoys. Over time, he included what had worked historically to create a tight and thoroughly entertaining act.

MARK SICHER’S DENTAL ACT

MARK SICHER’S FINAL PERFORMANCE

This performance was entirely improvised by Mark at the 1993 Tannen’s Magic Camp. He stopped into a convenience store an hour before showtime, bought a few random props, and put on a masterful performance.

Conclusion:

I feel fortunate to have had Mark Sicher in my life. He helped me break out from my own limitations as a performer, and appreciate the “flow” of a live performance. During the seven years that we knew each other, Mark became my best friend. Little did I know, but many others also considered him their best friend. He was a special young man who left us far too soon. As Harry Lorayne once wrote: “He was loved. He was a comet. And Mark, we hardly knew ya!”

Special thanks:

Rabbi Brian Zachary Mayer assisted me in clarifying Mark’s lessons for this article. Brian is a mutual friend who performed a two-person act with Mark at children’s birthday parties in Manhattan throughout the 1980s. Their joint business card read: “Nobody Knows Kids Like Kids,” an apropos slogan as they entertained young children while still in middle school themselves. Brian has taken the showmanship and performance skills he learned by being in the trenches with Mark, and now applies them to the religious and spiritual seminars he gives today.

The post MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Mark Sicher appeared first on Chamber Magic.

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Albert Goshman

Steve Cohen — Mon, 16 Nov 2015 05:01:26 +0000

Illustration by Juan Luis Rubiales

Welcome to MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY. In this weekly series, I introduce you to my magic mentors – people who have inspired me to become a better magician. Each Monday you’ll meet someone who has offered advice, or acted by example, to help steer my career.

My “big three” mentors are Max Malini, Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser, and Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin. Each of these giants has been featured in previous weeks. You’ll also read about more contemporary figures like Harry Lorayne, non-magicians Danny Kaye and Sammy Davis, Jr. and even fictional characters like Willy Wonka.

This week we’ll discuss lessons I learned from a man known for his avuncular charm:

ALBERT GOSHMAN

Before the internet made it easy to watch videos of any performer imaginable, the only way to find a certain act was to go see it in person. I had heard of Albert Goshman’s close-up magic act for years before finally watching him live, at Tannen’s Jubilee in 1986. At this point in his life he was severely overweight, had dark rings under his eyes, and a scraggly white moustache. He wore a silly-looking ruffled tuxedo shirt and moved slower than I had imagined, but his health was poor and sadly, he would only live five more years.

Regardless of his appearance, Goshman came alive with a fresh twinkle in his eye as he recited his opening lines: “My name is Albert. What’s yours? Betsy, I’m going to magish for you.”

Tannen’s Jubilee, 1986 (photo by Steve Cohen)

Goshman performed his entire 21-minute act that day: the Salt & Pepper Shaker, Copper/Silver, Sponge Balls, Chink-a-Chink with bottle caps, Winged Silver, Nudist Deck, and the Rising Cards. It was poetry in motion. Over the course of his career, he claimed to have performed this act more than 60,000 times, and it showed. His timing was impeccable, his jokes were adorable (“Do you hear the money, honey?” as he jingled a coin purse), and his magic was suitably baffling. It was everything I could have hoped for. Coins vanished from his closed hand, and reappeared beneath a pepper shaker. Nobody saw him touch it – even the lady sitting right next to him! But damned if the coin didn’t keep appearing where it shouldn’t, over and over, and over again.

Magie Montreal convention (photo courtesy Phil Matlin)

Lou Derman, a comedy writer who often took harsh shots at Goshman in the pages of Genii magazine, once wrote the following genuine praise: “We are indeed fortunate to have lived in an era that spawned three geniuses: Albert Einstein, Albert Schweitzer and ALBERT GOSHMAN. It should make us all humble.”

Goshman was previously a professional baker who ate too many cream puffs on the side. He was a “big, soft butter ball of a man” according to Frances Ireland Marshall, who had to shut down the family bakery in Brooklyn due to a large bakery store chain opening in the area. He decided to convert magic from a hobby to his career, and relocated with his wife and family to Los Angeles. Goshman became one of the original resident magicians in the newly-opened Magic Castle.

Magie Montreal convention (photo courtesy Phil Matlin)

He performed professionally at trade shows, and was the featured entertainment at Samuel Goldwyn’s 84th birthday party in Los Angeles. “The World’s Fair” magazine, England’s equivalent to Variety wrote: “Al Goshman is phenomenal; no wonder his reputation has rocketed in recent years. We knew he was going to be good, but never imagined any human being could be this good.”

Here is a sensational video that I saw on television as a young boy – Albert Goshman entertaining the Harlem Globetrotters at the Magic Castle. You can see the light touch he had for all of his props, as well as enjoy his playful, nebbishy style of interacting with the athletes. He reduces them all to giggling little boys.

In this brief clip, you don’t see much of the multiple appearance of coins under the salt and pepper shakers. But this was Goshman’s schtick – the coins kept on appearing under the shakers, and you never saw him load them under. It helped create a theme to the show – a running gag that provided punctuation at regular intervals. Each time a coin appeared under an empty shaker, you became more and more exasperated.

Other items also appeared under the shakers – sponge balls, and jumbo coins. The consistent return to the two familiar shakers helped make the show feel like a solid, cohesive performance, not merely a collection of unrelated tricks.

(Photo courtesy Dominique Duvivier)

What lessons have I learned from Albert Goshman?

THE CLASSICS NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE

Goshman did not perform any revolutionary new tricks. His repertoire consisted of tried-and-true classics, including several dealer items available in any magic shop in the world. Using tools that were available to all magicians, he created a unique act by infusing his unique personality into the material.

Goshman on The Tonight Show performing for Johnny Carson & Ed McMahon 8/20/69

Magicians often enter a fruitless hunt for “new tricks” because they need to satisfy a growing tolerance toward the power of the classics. After having studied magic for years, magicians begin to crave novelty: “What haven’t I seen before?” “That fooled me!” Yet professional magicians like Albert Goshman believe that magic is not intended for the magician’s gratification, it is meant to entertain the audience.

Just as all chefs have similar ingredients available in their kitchens, magicians all have the classics available when creating our acts. There is nothing wrong with presenting the classics. Nay, these tricks have become classics for a reason. Why fight with what works?

Albert Goshman took classic effects and added his own immense skill of misdirection and sleight of hand, and raised the tricks to a new level. By adding the latest methodology and advancements in magic to classic plots, he proved that it is possible to construct a routine that satisfies the magician as an artist, and entertains widespread audiences.

DO FIVE THINGS BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE

When Albert Goshman met Dai Vernon during his formative years in New York, the Professor advised him: “Albert, if you learn to do ANY of the known tricks better than anyone else, all magicians will remark if they see the trick performed by someone else, ‘You should see Goshman do that.’”

Goshman took the Professor’s advice to heart, and practiced hundreds of hours to perfect a trick named Spellbound. In this classic trick created by Vernon, a copper coin turns silver at the magician’s fingertips. Goshman perfected the routine and made it a thing of beauty. A New York Times reporter attended the Abbott’s magic convention in Colon, Michigan, and wrote an editorial about his experience. Of all the magical wonders on display that weekend, the reporter singled out one as the highlight: a baker who did magic, changing a copper coin into silver.

When people discuss Goshman today, decades after his death, the first trick mentioned is invariably “the Salt and Pepper Shakers.” Goshman studied the classic T. Nelson Downs routine – FREE AND UNLIMITED COINAGE OF SILVER, first published in The Art of Magic and further detailed by Lewis Ganson in The Dai Vernon Book of Magic. Goshman experimented every night during his six year tenure as the Magic Castle’s house magician, discovering how to make this trick his own. He worked single-mindedly on this theatrical plot until it because synonymous with his name. Today, nobody can perform Goshman’s Salt and Pepper Shakers without acknowledging the originator. He created a “category of one.”

Throughout his professional career, Goshman only performed a limited number of tricks. He did not aim to build an unlimited repertoire. I often see young magicians trying to learn every sleight under the sun, but when it comes time to actually performing a single trick, they freeze up. Their enthusiasm for knowledge overshadows their ability to perform. It is better to master five tricks than to shakily know one hundred.

In my own show, I’ve taken Goshman’s approach and worked on a handful of tricks that I continue to refine over the years. The only way to improve is to keep performing – constantly – and pay attention to your audiences’ reactions. Even after fifteen years of performing certain tricks, I still learn ways to refine the language or handling to improve the overall routine.

Performing at the Columbus Magi-Fest, February 1982 (photo courtesy Gary Plants)

YOU ARE THE MAGIC

Many magicians agree that Goshman had one of the best close-up magic acts of all time, hands down. What made him unique?

If, as we’ve discussed, he was performing traditional magic (coins across, sponge balls, a Benson Bowl routine), what was it that made him stand out? Yes, he had refined his manipulative skill and misdirection timing to immense heights, but it was more than that.

Caricature by Ted Salter

In his lectures to magicians, Goshman taught: “YOU ARE THE MAGIC.” The size or number of props does not define the size of your show. (His entire act fit inside of a briefcase, incidentally.) Rather, audiences are compelled to like a performer when they connect with him on a human level.

Goshman had overcome many personal obstacles in his life, and earned everything he had the hard way. Magic kept his mind off his misery, and he eventually flourished at it. However, he learned to identify with his audience by looking at them, and wondering what kind of trouble each of them was having. “They became individuals to me instead of an audience,” he said.

This is a revelatory statement that explains why audiences liked him back. According to Goshman, “YOU ARE THE MAGIC. The props only come along for the ride. If you are a strong enough performer it doesn’t matter what you do. You’re selling ‘you.’ That was the greatest discovery I ever made.”

Conclusion:

Goshman’s name continues to live on in the magic vernacular through the company he founded, “Magic By Gosh,” the world’s leading manufacturer of sponge balls. All of the product packaging contains Albert’s caricature, as if he personally is giving his blessing for you to entertain with his eponymous props. While Albert is now gone, our only memory for this larger-than-life artist remains through a sampling of YouTube videos and his beloved trademark lines:

“Like a mirage that shimmers on the desert’s dust…”

“Say go…. Gone.”

“You expected rubies?”

Next week: MARK SICHER

For further study, I recommend the following books and magazines:

The World’s Greatest Magic, by Hyla M. Clark, 1976, pp. 32-35

Magic By Gosh: The Life and Times of Albert Goshman, by Patrick Page and Albert Goshman, 1985

“King of the Salt and Pepper Shakers,” by John Booth, Linking Ring magazine, September 1990, pp. 69-71

The Albert Goshman Lecture: Live at the Kennedy, DVD, International Magic, 1985

The post MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Albert Goshman appeared first on Chamber Magic.

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Harry Lorayne

Steve Cohen — Mon, 09 Nov 2015 05:01:49 +0000

My “big three” mentors are Max Malini, Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser, and Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin. Each of these giants has been featured in previous weeks. You’ll also read about more contemporary figures like Albert Goshman, non-magicians Danny Kaye and Sammy Davis, Jr. and even fictional characters like Willy Wonka.

Imagine this:

I once read an article about an imaginary magician’s contest. Exactly one hundred of the world’s most talented close-up magicians would be invited to compete. Each magician must stand at his own table, and a thousand laymen would freely wander the hall, gravitating toward the most gifted performer. The table with the biggest crowds at the end of the night, wins.

By the end of the night, a thousand laymen, plus the other 99 magicians, would all be standing at one table. The magician they’d be watching:

HARRY LORAYNE

Harry Lorayne performing at Tannen’s Jubilee, Brown’s Hotel, 1986 (Steve Cohen collection)

Harry is and always has been a dynamo – give him a deck of cards and an audience, and it’s off to the races. When he was younger Harry presented lectures to magicians that were legendary for lasting 6, 7, even 8 hours. His audiences got wrapped up in his crisp and punchy voice, his sly humor, and his rat-a-tat machine gun delivery.

If you’ve never heard Harry speak, his voice sounds like a mix between Regis Philbin and physicist Richard Feynman. It has a gravelly, old-New York quality that contrasts handsomely with his overly crisp enunciation. He speaks with a quick authoritative cadence that jumps out and grabs you by the collar. Or as he would say, “by the coll-ah.” You can take the kid out of the Lower East Side, but you can’t take the Lower East Side out of Harry.

Dick Cavett, Steve Cohen (age 12), Harry Lorayne, too early in the morning at Tannen’s Jubilee 1983

I first met him when I was 12 – thirty-two years ago – at the Tannen’s Magic Jubilee in Loch Sheldrake, NY. Harry was a guest performer at the close-up show on Saturday morning, and I thought he was “putting us on” when he announced that he could memorize the order of a shuffled deck of cards. At the time I didn’t know about his reputation as the world’s foremost memory expert. He had been on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson over 20 times, and written many instructional books on memory techniques. In the show I watched, he not only memorized the deck but knew which cards had been secretly moved to different spots while his back was turned. It was a pretty incredible feat that made an indelible impression.

Later that night, I spoke to Harry briefly and he mentioned that all of the “good guys” who did magic in New York City met every Saturday afternoon. “You oughtta come the next time you’re in town,” he said.

My parents were supportive of my passion for magic, and gave me permission to take the Metro North train into Manhattan once a month. Throughout the 1980s and early 1990s I regularly met up with my best friend Mark Sicher, a city kid who I met at Tannen’s Magic Camp. (Mark also became a mentor to me, and will be the subject of a future article.) We’d meet at Tannen’s Magic Shop, and then walked up Madison to 38^th Street to the weekly magician hang-out: Reuben’s Delicatessen.

Move past the counter, beyond the booths and through a thick waft of pastrami steam and pickle juice, and you’d enter a large back room. Its inhabitants were a hodgepodge of middle-aged men dressed in unfashionable suit jackets. At their vortex was Harry Lorayne. You could hear his distinct voice the moment you entered the back room, and he was surrounded by other magicians who hung on his every word. They called this “holding court,” and Harry was clearly the king.

Mark Sicher and I watched Harry hold court at Reuben’s week after week, and eventually got up enough courage to show him some of our own original tricks. Harry encouraged young magicians to explain their tricks so that he could publish them in his monthly magazine, Apocalypse. It was a way for no-name magicians like us to become “known” in the community. We were fortunate to brainstorm our ideas with Harry, and other giants in the New York magic scene like Ken Krenzel, Sol Stone, and Bob Elliott.

In addition to being an Apocalypse subscriber, I bought every magic book that Harry published, and devoured them throughout my formative teenage years. I consider myself a student of Harry’s both through his writings, and through the hours of personal time we have spent together. He generously invited me to his home at 62 Jane Street in the West Village many times. And after he moved out of Manhattan we continued to correspond and meet periodically at his new home and other mutually-convenient spots.

I’ll always remember an afternoon that we spent together in his house, swapping card tricks. After a few hours, Harry’s wife Renee popped her head into the office to check in. Harry looked up and said, “Hey Renee, he’s almost as good as me!”

Harry Lorayne performing “Powerful Powers,” July 2015

What lessons have I learned from Harry Lorayne?

MISTAKES DON’T EXIST

One of Harry’s doctrines is: “Never admit that something has gone wrong!” When you make a mistake, keep moving forward as if the outcome was what you had originally intended. Although you may be panicking internally, most audiences won’t realize that you’ve flubbed. Always end the trick in some way, and move on to the next.

Conversely, he believed a positive “accident” might occur — something great could happen that was entirely unexpected. His rather irreverent attitude is: always take credit for lucky hits! Why not? The audience never knew what the outcome was supposed to be, so why not take credit for possessing incredible skill?

My own interpretation of this doctrine is that you must acknowledge everything the audience sees and experiences during a performance. If something unexpected occurs, don’t ignore or pretend it didn’t happen. Simply acknowledge the disturbance, and try to weave it back into your original presentation in a clever or pleasing way.

Harry Lorayne performing at Tannen’s Jubilee, Brown’s Hotel, 1986 (Steve Cohen collection)

THINK THREE STEPS AHEAD

Harry doesn’t perform discreetly. While performing one card trick, he secretly sets up for another trick he plans to perform ten minutes later. Of course the audience is never aware of his forward planning, nor should they be. This is behind-the-curtain stuff, the structural framework that makes for a seamless audience experience. One routine glides breezily into the next, and into the next one after that. The audience goes along for the ride since there are no sawhorses for them to climb over, or duck under.

This “thinking ahead” requires a mental process known as Situational Awareness – the awareness of yourself in both 3-dimensional space and time. You must watch yourself as a third person, and see yourself in the future. While Harry has never used the term Situational Awareness, he has embodied it in his performances. Planning for something that won’t be needed until ten minutes from now, while performing a complex trick at the present moment, requires a quick and agile mind. Harry has one of the quickest minds of anyone I’ve ever met. (See the video below for a glimpse at his mental capabilities.)

Cover of Tannen’s Magic Manuscript Feb/March 1983

SELL IT LIKE NOBODY’S BUSINESS

There is an old saying among Vaudeville performers: “Hit ‘em over the head, tie ‘em in a knot, and get off.” In layman terms: have a strong opening, an engaging middle, and an ending that leaves people wanting more.

Harry’s performances are an excellent example of this philosophy. He often starts his card magic sessions with a quick and powerful effect. While shuffling the deck he says, “I’ve practiced for years, going all over the world, and found that cards are different – different weights, sizes, and textures – so I’ve had to practice taking any deck, to learn how to do this. My dream is to cut a shuffled deck into four piles, and cut to all four kings. Wow! My dream just came true.”

As he speaks the final words, the audience is shocked to find all four kings staring them in the eye. A quick and startling opener that “hits ‘em over the head.”

This Al Hirschfeld illustration hangs on the wall in Harry’s house

Harry is best at “tying ‘em in a knot.” Though he has spoken his lines (or patter) thousands of times for thousands of audiences, it always feels fresh. You feel that he is talking directly to you, responding to you personally. I’ve heard Harry say the identical lines dozens of times with virtually no variation in word choice. But it always seems spontaneous. He doesn’t recite his lines, he manifests them.

When he tells a story, even if it’s full of odd-sounding characters (with names like “Big Fella, Little Fella,” and “Two Shuffles Harry”) you can’t help but get wrapped up in his performance. Harry is so genuinely committed to his story that it feels important. He emphasizes the key points with clarity so there is no confusion. At the end of the day, it’s just a card trick, but Harry imbues his personality and infectious enthusiasm into the trick so it feels like you are participating in an event.

The final part of the Vaudevillian saying, “…and get off” may not exactly apply to Harry Lorayne. Once Harry gets started, it’s hard for him to stop. At some point, the audience’s minds begin to melt, and as they wipe away tears of laughter and exasperation from their cheeks, Harry puts down the cards, calling it a day.

THE PINKY CHECK

Harry and I shared a laugh when he shared this practical lesson for male performers. Immediately before stepping on stage, he suggests using the tip of your right pinky finger to find the upper end of your trousers zipper. If your fingernail clicks against the zipper’s metal pull-tab, then you are safe and ready to make your entrance. If your pinky slides in up to your knuckle, however, then you have to XYZ PDQ (eXamine Your Zipper, Pretty Darn Quick)!

Harry told me that it would be more than embarrassing for him to accidentally walk onstage with his fly open, because of who he is. For decades he has been billed as “the world’s foremost memory expert,” and “the Yoda of memory training.” If the memory expert can’t even remember to zip up his zipper, he loses all credibility! The pinky check has served him well throughout his career.

As an aside, I was once caught with my zipper open during my Chamber Magic show. At one point in the show, I make a solid red brick appear inside a previously empty hat. It’s a crowd-pleaser. On one particular night, a man in the second row unexpectedly stood up, walked to the front of the room, and handed me a folded paper. It was impossible to ignore him, so I unfolded his note, read it silently (“Your zipper is open!”), and laughingly explained the situation to my audience. After turning my back to correct the situation, I ad-libbed: “At least now you know where the brick came from!”

From that night forward, the Pinky Check has become the last action I take before walking on stage. Every time.

Conclusion:

Harry Lorayne is now 89 years old, and considered a living legend in the world of card magic. Since he moved away from New York, we have seen each other less frequently, but still try to meet bi-monthly at his accountant’s office (Alan Frankel, also a magician). On several occasions I’ve driven four hours each way to spend an afternoon in the Hamptons with Harry, returning to Manhattan after dark. Each time, it gets harder to say goodbye. I love this guy. He makes me feel like a teenager again, sitting around the table at Reuben’s, watching him “hold court.”

The members of his court have dispersed, and his frantic performance pace has slowed down due to his arthritic fingers. (See photos below.) But his mind is as sharp as ever. Leave it to a memory expert to remember everything like it was yesterday.

Harry Lorayne and Steve Cohen, July 2015

Harry Lorayne’s hands, 2014

Finally, watch this great episode of “I’ve Got A Secret” to see Harry (age 32) dramatically memorize the name and face of every person in the 500 seat theater!

Next Week: ALBERT GOSHMAN

For further study, read:

Magic Books written by Harry Lorayne:

Close-Up Card Magic • Personal Secrets • My Favorite Card Tricks • Deck-Sterity • Best of Bill-Fooled

The Hundred Dollar Book • Dingle’s Deceptions • Reputation-Makers • The Great Divide

Tarbell #7 • Rim Shots • Afterthoughts • The Epitome Location • The Magic Book • Finger Fantasies

The Card Classics of Ken Krenzel • Quantum Leaps • Best of Friends, Volume I • Best of Friends, Volume II

Best of Friends, Volume III • Star Quality • Trend Setters • Doug Edwards Packs a Wallop • The Himber Wallet Book

Personal Collection • Lorayne : The Classic Collection Volume 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 • Mathematical Wizardry

Special Effects • Before I Forget • Jaw Droppers

Monthly magic magazine: Apocalypse

Memory Books:

How to Develop A Super-Power Memory • Secrets of Mind Power • Instant Mind Power • Miracle Math

Memory Isometrics Course • Mental Magnetism Course • Good Memory – Good Student!

Good Memory – Successful Student! • The Memory Book • Remember People (The Key to Success)

The Page-A-Minute Memory Book • Memory Makes Money • Super Memory – Super Student • Ageless Memory

The MEMORY POWER Package (sold on national infomercials)

The post MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Harry Lorayne appeared first on Chamber Magic.

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Jean Eugene Robert-Houdin

Steve Cohen — Mon, 02 Nov 2015 05:01:25 +0000

My “big three” mentors are Max Malini, Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser, and Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin. Each of these giants will be featured in coming weeks. You’ll also read about more contemporary figures like Harry Lorayne and Albert Goshman, non-magicians Danny Kaye and Sammy Davis, Jr. and even fictional characters like Willy Wonka.

This week we’ll focus on the father of modern conjuring:

JEAN EUGÈNE ROBERT-HOUDIN (1805-1871)

Volumes have been written on the extraordinary life and career of Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin. And justly so – he revolutionized the way theatrical magic is performed in the modern age. So influential was Robert-Houdin to the advancement of the craft that Erich Weiss later modeled his own stage name – HOUDINI – after him.

First, a general note that needs to be addressed. It is incorrect to refer to this seminal figure simply as “Houdin.” His last name is hyphenated, and pronounced “roBEHR-ooDAN.” (French pronunciation dictates a silent H.)

Robert-Houdin was trained as a clockmaker, and used his mechanical expertise to create intricate wind-up automaton devices that could also perform magic. He combined these artistic machines with his own prodigious technical skill, and presented shows that baffled Europe in the nineteenth century.

Original Robert-Houdin props, in Ken Klosterman collection

According to Christian Fechner, author of The Magic of Robert-Houdin – An Artist’s Life, “It’s important to understand what magic was like before Robert-Houdin. Not only that, but you must understand how audiences viewed a magic show before Robert-Houdin. Magic was not considered an art. When people went to a magic show it was to have fun. The magicians often pulled pranks on their neighbors. They were not big mysteries. There was nothing classy about it – popular yes, but it was a low level of entertainment, like performing animals. Robert-Houdin changed all of that and made magic a high form of entertainment. Probably not only because of his repertoire, but also because of his charm and personality on stage, his elegance, his education. He was able to make magic acceptable to France’s high society because he knew them very well from selling them his mechanical clocks and automata. When you entered into the Théâtre Robert-Houdin you did not enter into a theater, but into a living room, and your host was on stage. And he talked to you like a host, and magically offered you food, drinks, and gifts.”

Holding an original Robert-Houdin souvenir fan, at David Copperfield’s museum

Souvenir fans were distributed to guests so they could cool themselves during the hot summer months. These delicate, decorative fans depicted the theater entrance, as well as vignettes of Robert-Houdin’s most famous tricks including the Orange Tree and the Light & Heavy Chest.

Picture this:

You’re seated in a small theater in Paris, dressed in your finest attire. Instead of visiting the opera or a ballet, you chose to attend Soirées Fantastiques, the hottest ticket in town. Robert-Houdin, the show’s elegant star, has baffled you repeatedly throughout the evening, and it’s time for his big finale.

A gilded Louis XV style table sits center stage. Atop the table is a dollhouse, decorated to look like a miniature bakery. Inside, the magician explains, is an obedient little “pastry chef” who can bake any type of dessert you wish. Robert-Houdin offers a lady in the front row a pastry menu containing all the classics: brioche, macaron, profiterole, opera cake, crème brûlée, and so on. She chooses clafoutis, a popular black cherry tart.

Robert-Houdin turns a mechanical crank on the side of the bakery, and summons the pastry chef to come to the bakery door. To everyone’s delight, a charming automaton figure, about eight inches tall, appears at the front door, dressed in chef whites. He greets the audience, takes the lady’s order, and mechanically returns into the bakery. As soon as the doors close, a light switches on in the left window, and you see two more automaton figures rolling pastry dough and crushing almonds. A few moments later, the front door re-opens, and the pastry chef appears, holding a dessert on a tray. Incredibly, it is a black cherry tart!

Robert-Houdin asks another lady to place her finger ring into a small box, lock the latch, and hold the box in her hands. Instantly the pastry chef reemerges from the bakery holding a warm brioche. The magician tears the bun open to show that her ring has appeared inside! The box is, of course, now completely empty.

David Copperfield performed Robert-Houdin’s “Pastrycook of Palais Royale” for me, during a midnight tour of his museum

Finally, Robert-Houdin asks a gentleman to loan him a 20 franc gold coin. He explains that the pastry chef is such an intelligent businessman that he can provide change for the borrowed coin, in francs and centimes. The patron suggests three 5 franc coins, four 1 franc coins, nine 10 centimes, and two 5 centimes. No matter how difficult the mathematics, the pastry chef returns to his bakery, and emerges with the requested coins on a tray!

What lessons have I learned from Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin?

DRESS THE PART

Psychologist Carl Jung believed that universal, mythic characters called archetypes reside within the collective unconscious of people the world over. To most, the “magician” archetype is symbolized by a bow-tied man, wearing a top hat and tuxedo. But this was not always the case.

Prior to Robert-Houdin, the traditional magician’s costume was an elaborate robe decorated with stars and half moons. These magicians played the part of a wizard, and peppered their performances with mystical mumbo-jumbo. Another costume popular among street performers was an ill-fitting, raggedy suit with bright colors and baggy pockets.

Robert-Houdin is credited as being the first “modern” magician. He eschewed the rough and tumble garb of other conjurers, and instead dressed in normal evening attire. His patrons wore finely tailored tailcoats, vests and bowties, and therefore, so did he. He wasn’t trying to dress like the stereotype of “a magician” — he was simply matching his attire to that of his audience. His demeanor and appearance made them think that he belonged to the same social sphere as well.

Incidentally, the sewing machine had recently been invented, and it became easier for prosperous Europeans to obtain ready-to-wear, high quality clothing. Robert-Houdin lived in the cosmopolitan city of Paris, where he could easily shop in the same department stores as his clients.

Flash forward 150 years. When I began my own performance career in New York, I invested my early earnings in my wardrobe. I began shopping at Barneys and asked the sales clerks to help me pick out some distinctive suits. For several years I wore “off-the-peg” clothing, but later graduated to a custom tailor. But as much as I enjoyed these custom-made suits, they made me look like a well-dressed businessman, not “a magician.”

So I turned back to examine the magician archetype embodied by Robert-Houdin, and decided to alter my course. My new “look” would in fact be quite old, harkening back to nineteenth century European fashion. On a trip to London’s Saville Row I snapped up several morning coats, waistcoats, cravats, and a silk top hat.

The reaction of my audiences changed immediately, for the best. As I walked on stage, I once heard a front-row patron whisper, “This is going to be good. Look at this guy – he even looks like a magician!”

INCLUDE YOUR FAMILY

Robert-Houdin’s wife died at the age of 32, leaving the magician, at age 38, a single father of three. In order to assist in raising the children, he remarried less than a year later to a woman ten years younger who was willing to take over the household.

One son in particular, Emile, took a special interest in his father’s shows. Together they practiced challenging memory stunts, and Robert-Houdin eventually realized that Emile had surpassed him in his ability to remember large volumes of detailed information.

When Emile turned fourteen, Robert-Houdin invited him to perform a two-person act on stage. The act was titled Second Sight, and it took advantage of Emile’s prodigious mental agility. The boy was thoroughly blindfolded, and his father walked through the audience borrowing random personal objects. Mysteriously, Emile could divine each object, despite being completely blindfolded. Their early attempts at this act were met with skepticism. Audiences suspected that they were communicating with a secret verbal code, so Robert-Houdin changed their presentation. Instead of speaking aloud to his blindfolded son, he simply rang a tea service bell. At each ring, Emile announced each object that his father had borrowed: “a pocket watch, a hair pin, a carving knife,” and so on.

The father-son act was a true novelty, and attracted masses of people who wanted to try and decipher how young Emile could know so much. Robert-Houdin’s 200-seat theater was consistently sold-out, and their show became the talk of Paris.

Based on this success, Emile participated in later additions to the show, including the Portfolio, and the Ethereal Suspension. These became signature illusions in Soirées Fantastiques.

I was always taken by how many of these illustrations depicted Robert-Houdin performing with his son. As a father myself, I envisioned how much effort and patience must have been required to train Emile to perform at a professional caliber in front of paying audiences. No parent wants to crush their child’s enthusiasm, nor selfishly steal away a childhood for professional gain. But being on stage in a high-pressure environment could easily create a rift between father and son. Working side by side with a child requires a delicate balance that boosts the child’s confidence while still maintaining the respect required by the parent. Over time, both father and son must form a mutual trust that extends past the footlights to daily life offstage.

When my own children were small, I played memory games with them, similar to those described by Robert-Houdin in his memoirs. “Walk past this shop window, look away, and describe how many items you remember!” Or, “Here are twenty-five objects printed on a grid. I’ll name one item, and you tell me every other object, starting from that spot, in order!” These fun games were meant to develop their observational skills, and sharpen their memory for life, in general. But I had another motive – namely, Robert-Houdin’s Second Sight act.

My daughter, June, was more inclined to practice than my son, and by the age of five, she could perform a unique version that I created. At family gatherings, I handed June a box of Crayola crayons and a pad of paper. “Go sit in the corner, and draw a few pictures. Daddy is going to show the adults some card tricks,” I said.

June retreated to the end of the room, and kept herself busy by coloring on the pad.

After a card trick or two, I said to one of the guests, “Think of any object you like. Something that a small child would know how to draw.” I pointed over to June, still coloring away on her pad. The adult secretly drew a picture on a piece of paper – let’s say a fishbowl with a fish swimming inside – and hid that paper so nobody could see it.

I turned to June and asked her to bring over her last crayon drawing. Miraculously, it was of a fishbowl with a fish swimming inside!

This routine was a big hit for us at family parties, and NY Times reporter N.R. Kleinfield even wrote about it in his feature story about my life:

At preschool, Steve steered June and a dozen classmates to a hallway and did a few tricks. Card stuff, a glass of orange juice emerging from beneath a handkerchief, an orange turning up inside a girl’s hat. Giggles, bug-eyed looks.

June wanted to do her trick. A school worker was drafted to covertly draw something simple a child would recognize. June came up blank once, twice. She was rusty. One more time. The worker drew a heart. June drew a heart.

We have had a lot of fun performing this Second Sight act. One year, my children agreed to perform together with me at the Waldorf Astoria for a Father’s Day edition of Chamber Magic. This performance was their Father’s Day gift to me.

Here are some photos of that special day:

June walks off to the left side of the room with a pen and paper

A random volunteer draws any picture he likes at the opposite end of the room

Forty feet away, June starts drawing a picture too

The drawings match! Look at the surprised expression on the man’s face. Love it!

A clear photo of their drawings – they each drew a tree.

The proportion, angle, and size of her drawing perfectly matched the tree drawn by the random gentleman. The audience reaction was a collective gasp that I’ll always remember with pride. Sharing the stage with my children was the best Father’s Day gift this magician has ever received.

All dressed up for their debut

LIGHT & HEAVY CHEST

For my television special Lost Magic Decoded, I decided to recreate one of Robert-Houdin’s most iconic tricks, the Light & Heavy Chest. While he performed this routine in his theater shows in Paris to great acclaim, the routine is legendary for its role in stopping a rebellion in northern Africa. In 1856, the French government summoned Robert-Houdin out of retirement to put down an incipient revolt in the French colony of Algeria, by demonstrating that he could easily achieve total control over the strongest rebelling warriors.

The strongest Marabout warrior was suddenly unable to lift a small, light, wooden chest. It appeared as if Robert-Houdin had stripped away his strength. The magician successfully showed the Marabout rebels that the French “magic” was more powerful than their own, and caused them to retreat in fear.

In my own show, I developed my own method to turn a modern-day strongman from a crushing bodybuilder into a weakling with the strength of a 3-year-old child.

Here’s how it looked:

At a CrossFit gym in Brooklyn, NY, I asked a strong bodybuilder to lift a 225-pound barbell. He lifted it with ease. After returning it to the ground, I tapped the center of his forehead with two fingers. A moment later, he was unable to lift the barbell off of the ground. It simply wouldn’t budge.

I tapped his forehead, and he was suddenly able to lift the weight again.

Next I handed the bodybuilder a hinged wooden box. He opened the lid to confirm it was empty, and held it at eye level by the top handle. I tapped his forehead, and the box began to sink. To him, the empty box seemed to become heavier and heavier, as if filling with liquid metal. The box became so heavy that it sank to the ground. He was no longer able to lift it.

I casually picked up the box to show that it was indeed still empty, and put it aside.

Finally, I asked the bodybuilder if he wanted some water to cool off. I handed him a 16 ounce bottle of Poland Spring. Before he took a drink from the bottle, however, I tapped him on the forehead. He became exasperated when he suddenly couldn’t unscrew the plastic cap! For a guy who could bench press 350 pounds, this was an embarrassing moment, and the other bodybuilders chuckled at his dilemma. I tapped his forehead once more, and the bodybuilder could unscrew the bottle cap at last. He was relieved to take a well-deserved chug of water.

This routine required no stooges or paid actors. While the methodology we devised was entirely different from Robert-Houdin’s original version, the impact on the audience in Brooklyn was just as mesmerizing.

Holding Robert-Houdin’s Light & Heavy chest at Ken Klosterman’s Salon de Magie

Conclusion

Most people who visit museums glide past lesser-known artifacts, making a bee-line to the most famous pieces of art. How many beautiful paintings in the Louvre have been ignored as visitors hunt for the Mona Lisa? If you have a specific area of interest, however, certain artifacts speak to you – they call your attention from afar. You may see these special objects in a glowing light, visible only to you.

I felt this way when visiting the collection of Robert-Houdin apparatus in David Copperfield’s museum. David kindly let me hold and examine many of the original props created by the master, including the “Inexhaustible Bottle” – a trick that I perform under the title “Think-a-Drink” in my own shows. As I held Robert-Houdin’s bottle, I felt a profound connection to him. It was nothing more than a prop, a physical object. But to me it was an invisible link that connected a mind from the nineteenth century with one from the twenty-first. I smiled as I held that glowing bottle in my hands.

Next week: HARRY LORAYNE

For further study, I recommend the following books and magazines.

Essential Robert-Houdin, edited by Todd Karr, The Miracle Factory, 2006
The Magic of Robert-Houdin: “An Artist’s Life,” by Christian Fechner
Genii Magazine, Volume 65, No. 11, November 2002
Annals of Conjuring, by Sidney W. Clark, Chapter 9
Robert-Houdin, A Magician’s Life, DVD, Talia Films, Paris, 2005

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MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: “Think-a-Drink” Hoffman

Steve Cohen — Mon, 26 Oct 2015 04:01:06 +0000

My “big three” mentors are Max Malini, Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser, and Jean Eugene Robert-Houdin. Each of these giants is being featured in this series. You’ll also read about more contemporary figures like Harry Lorayne and Albert Goshman, non-magicians Danny Kaye and Sammy Davis, Jr. and even fictional characters like Willy Wonka.

This week, let’s turn our attention to a forgotten master:

CHARLES “THINK-A-DRINK” HOFFMAN (1896-1966)

At the peak of his career, Charles Hoffman was the highest paid magician in the United States. This is a remarkable accomplishment considering he had almost died just a few years earlier.

After serving in World War I, Hoffman returned to America and, like many vets during that era, he was diagnosed with tuberculosis. He was sent to the Sunmount Veterans Administration hospital in Tupper Lake, NY to recover, but was so ill that “his doctors [had] instructed that his coffin be ordered.” (The Sphinx, Vol 40, No 2) During his stay at the hospital, Hoffman gave his first serious consideration to magic. He made up his mind that he didn’t want to die, and used magic as a shining beacon to lift himself back to good health. He created a rigorous personal recovery plan that required patience, attention to detail, and painstaking effort. Later he would apply the same principles to his magic act: upon his release, he created a highly polished and meticulous routine that set him apart from all other magicians.

Imagine this:

It’s 1939. After a decade of depression, Americans are feeling upbeat about economic growth and prosperity. You’re seated in the swankiest supper club in town, and the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra plays their newest hit, “In The Middle of a Dream.” As the musicians hit their final notes, tonight’s MC introduces the headliner act: “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the highest paid bartender in town, the doctor of deception — Think-a-Drink Hoffman!” A handsomely tuxedoed gentleman walks to center stage, claps his hands loudly several times, and shows them undeniably empty. He brings both hands together, and magically produces a large fan of real bills from the U.S. mint. What an entrance!

Hoffman walks to the standing microphone and introduces himself. He instructs everyone in the audience to think of their favorite drink. Any beverage at all. He points to a woman in the front row, and seems to “read” her thoughts. Hoffman lifts a cocktail shaker and martini glass from the table. He concentrates for a moment, and then fills the martini glass with a Pink Lady cocktail (gin, egg white, and grenadine). As he hands her the drink to taste, he asks, “Is that a genuine Pink Lady? More importantly, is that the exact drink you were thinking of?” She answers “Yes!” to both questions, bringing the first big applause of the night.

One after the next, Hoffman proceeds to pour more drinks from the same cocktail shaker: beer, whiskey, peach dacari, Coca-Cola! Each drink looks different from the previous one — some are clear, others colored; some are carbonated and others are not. Even more important, each drink tastes different from the last. Hoffman’s two female assistants walk into the audience with serving trays, distributing the beverages to each spectator who had requested a drink. They taste and confirm that these are, indeed, their favorite drinks.

Someone yells out, “How about a Zombie!” Hoffman picks up a large glass and asks, “Sir, do you know what goes into a Zombie?” He rattles off a long list of ingredients: “White rum, golden rum, dark rum, apricot brandy, lime juice, pineapple juice, papaya juice!” Despite the challenge, Hoffman immediately pours the complex drink, garnishing it with a paper cocktail umbrella. This unexpected flourish earns a huge laugh.

Someone asks for coffee. Hoffman immediately pours hot coffee from his magic shaker, then reaches into the air to produce sugar cubes and a creamer.

Finally, he walks to a young man in the front row and says, “Young fella, you look like you’re ready for dessert.” Hoffman then pours the final drink: a chocolate soda with ice cream. He produces a spoon from his bare hands, drops it in the drink, and takes a final bow.

What lessons have I learned from “Think-a-Drink” Hoffman?

SPECIALIZE TO STAND OUT

Early in his career, Charles Hoffman performed a relatively generic magic act. In his first public engagement at the Astor Hotel in New York, he presented standard tricks often seen in the acts of his peers: card fan productions, a rope trick, lit cigarette productions, and the well-worn Chinese Sticks. In the midst of these old standbys, he inserted an abbreviated “bar” act, pouring various fancy drinks from an apparently empty shaker.

At the behest of his often haughty colleague, Burling Hull (snarkily nicknamed “Hurling Bull”), Hoffman dropped the standard fare and focused exclusively on developing a bar act.

Hoffman spent three years preparing the props and refining his presentation before rebranding himself as “Think-a-Drink” Hoffman. His new act focused on one theme only — to pour any drink that spectators could imagine. Although the act was only twelve minutes long, his career began to take off. He found steady work in the top venues in every major American city.

A table tent advertising Hoffman’s act (Steve Cohen collection)

Before specializing in a narrow field, Hoffman was indistinguishable from other working professionals in his market. Talent bookers could price-shop for magicians, since they all presented roughly the same material. Once he narrowed his focus to one specialty, however, Hoffman created his own category. The novelty of his act stimulated demand, and the lack of competition meant that he could command higher fees.

TACKLE SOMETHING OTHERS WON’T

Charles Hoffman traveled with 225 pounds of equipment, packed into five crates. For a 12-minute act, he had a lot of stuff! Before each show he required a 30-minute orchestra rehearsal, and after the show he needed to clean all of the glasses so they’d sparkle for his next venue. All told, he needed to mold his life around his act. In addition to his splendid showmanship onstage, he required dogged determination offstage to schlep his props to each show.

By tackling something that others would not, Hoffman stood out in the competitive field of legitimate show business. He was cast in the Broadway revue, “The Streets of Paris” at the Broadhurst Theater, starring Abbott & Costello, Carmen Miranda, and Gower Champion.

I was fortunate to meet lyricist Stephen Sondheim on several occasions, and he told me that he saw “Think-a-Drink” Hoffman perform his act in “The Streets of Paris.” Although he was only 9 years old at the time, Hoffman’s magic made such an impact on the young Sondheim that he still remembers it to this day.

As Hoffman’s fame and success grew, so came the imitators. In 1943, he battled someone nicknamed “Have-a-Drink” Count Maurice in court, and won an injunction against the copycat act. For more about this fascinating case of trade secrets as applied to show business, click HERE.

By dedicating his life to something unique and difficult that would deter most others, Hoffman ultimately reaped the benefits of his hard work.

Interior of Loew’s State Theater

MAKE THE SMALL PLAY BIG

In 1941 “Think-a-Drink” Hoffman played the Loew’s State Theater, located at 1540 Broadway, a building that later became the home of Tannen’s Magic shop. Despite being in one of New York’s largest theaters (3,327 seats), Hoffman confidently held the huge audience in the palm of his hand. People seated in the rear seats were unable to see the small glasses that Hoffman held, but they didn’t care because of his superb showmanship. (Other famous magic acts who performed at the Loew’s State include Paul LePaul, Ade Duvall, Dunninger, and Cardini.)

When Houdini performed in New York’s Hippodrome theater (5,300 seats), people seated in the balcony were unable to see the sewing needles he pulled threaded from his mouth. The audience could readily understand what was happening on stage, however, due to Houdini’s confidence, energy and sheer personality. I believe that Charles Hoffman did the same.

Conclusion

Charles Hoffman became a star by specializing in a unique branch of magic that most others found cumbersome. He worked extremely hard, and discovered how to dovetail both his skill and his charming personality into a commercial act.

While the “Think-a-Drink” act is rarely performed by modern-day magicians, I have made it a feature item in my own weekly show, Chamber Magic, which plays every weekend at the Waldorf Astoria hotel in New York City. If you’d like to see “Think-a-Drink” in person, come visit soon, and be sure to have your favorite drink in mind! Thanks to Charles Hoffman, “Think-a-Drink” is magic that’s as close to real wizardry as you may ever see.

Next week: JEAN EUGENE ROBERT-HOUDIN

Steve Cohen performing “Think-a-Drink” (photo by David Linsell, courtesy of Magicana)

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MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: J.N. Hofzinser

Steve Cohen — Mon, 19 Oct 2015 04:01:25 +0000

My “big three” mentors are Max Malini, Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser, and Jean Eugene Robert-Houdin. Each of these giants will be featured in coming weeks. You’ll also read about more contemporary figures like Harry Lorayne and Albert Goshman, non-magicians Danny Kaye and Sammy Davis, Jr. and even fictional characters like Willy Wonka.

This week we’ll focus on one of my favorite figures in the world of magic:

JOHANN NEPOMUK HOFZINSER (1806-1875)

Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser, a man of culture and refinement, was delicate in physique but a giant in intellectual strength. For most of his life, he wasn’t a professional magician–he was a civil servant in the Austrian government who worked in the Ministry of Finance. But Hofzinser loved magic and wanted to launch a public show in Vienna.

The trouble was, he did small magic, with cards and coins and other props that couldn’t be seen from a distance. He also had a relatively thin voice, so it was hard to hear him in an auditorium. He decided that, given his strengths, a perfect place to perform would be in a salon.

Beginning at least two hundred years ago, members of European high society would gather at night in cultured settings, called salons, where they could discuss art, literature, philosophy, and politics. Salons were hugely popular, and their popularity wasn’t lost on Hofzinser.

He called his salon show “An Hour of Deception: A Performance in the Field of Higher Magic,” and charged Broadway ticket prices. He held the show numerous times a week. His wife, Wilhemena, opened with a telepathy routine, and Hofzinser himself performed the remainder of the show. He did sublime card magic and apparatus magic, including the cups and balls. At the end of his cups and balls routine, he lifted the cups and produced small bird cages, each with a live canary inside.

“An Hour of Deception” began in 1857, and ran for eleven years. By the time the run was over, the name “Hofzinser” had become synonymous in Vienna with “magic.” He didn’t build his reputation performing big shows. He built it by doing magic in an intimate, elegant and unexpected setting.

Picture this:

It’s Friday night in Vienna. You’ve taken your date to Hofzinser’s salon located at Wollzeile 38. It’s a splendid atmosphere, with paintings, including a portrait of Hofzinser himself, in gold plated frames. The room is lit by gaslight, and a few rows of plush armchairs face front. Hofzinser starts the show with a clever comedy routine, in the manner of Johnny Carson or David Letterman, tossing out timely political humor with gentle jabs at elected officials. Finally it’s time for magic, and he is a master in his element.

Hofzinser turns to a married woman in the front row and requests the ring from her finger. As she removes the ring, he displays to the audience a crystal goblet filled with a cloudy, brackish fluid. He calls it “water from the fountain of love.” This dark water will turn crystal clear, he claims, upon contacting a wedding ring worn in true love and sincerity. Hofzinser tosses the woman’s wedding ring into the murky water, and covers the goblet with a cloth. After a few seconds, he removes the cloth and shows that the liquid has turned as clear as water. Several goldfish are swimming in the water! Hofzinser explains something that sounds impossible: one of the fish has the borrowed wedding ring in its mouth. He uses a small net to scoop out the fish, and brings it to the lady so she can remove the ring herself.

Amazing, right?

Hofzinser turns his attention to a deck of cards. He calls card magic “the poetry of magic.” To begin, he writes something onto a piece of paper, folds it and hands it to a lady. He picks up the deck of cards, and deals them singly onto the table until someone commands him to stop. That pile of cards sits isolated on the table. Hofzinser spreads the remaining deck to the audience, and invites four people to each select one card randomly. Now for the climax: the four random cards are all Tens, the number of cards in the dealt pile is ten, and when the lady unfolds the paper she is holding she reads “You will say STOP at exactly ten cards!”

I hope that you can appreciate from these written descriptions how extraordinarily brilliant these tricks are. He had dozens more, equally impressive in their construction, and beautifully scripted to capture both the heart and mind.

What lessons have I learned from J.N. Hofzinser?

HOST EVENTS IN YOUR OWN VENUE

Hofzinser created an institution in his own town. Even when the lease was up and he had to move his salon to a new building (this happened five times during his career!), his audiences moved with him. By creating a fixed show, people knew that he existed, and they knew where to find him. Instead of going to the audience, he invited the audience to come to him.

In this way, Hofzinser positioned himself as the authority in his field. His show became an ongoing part of the local culture and he worked on his own terms.

No matter what business you are in, think of a way to create your own events, and invite people to visit. Your event can be a wine tasting, an industry meet-up, or the chance to meet a guest speaker. People will view you differently when you are the host because they are coming into your space. After producing your own events repeatedly, you’ll build up a following and people will anticipate the next one. This is an excellent way to build customer loyalty.

Playing cards used by Hofzinser (Ken Klosterman collection)

KEEP LEARNING AND EXPLORING

Hofzinser was a master magician who invented and refined dozens of revolutionary ideas still used by magicians today. He is credited with techniques that were at least 50 years ahead of his time.

It’s easy to call someone as prolific as Hofzinser a master, but what does that word mean? In my opinion, a true master is someone who doesn’t consider himself an expert, but instead is willing to keep learning and experimenting. Though Hofzinser was a well-known figure in Viennese circles, he was an amateur in spirit, meaning he didn’t simply rely on what he could do well, but continued to learn and grow as a professional. Even when he was performing four nights per week, he never stopped developing new material, and clever ways to present it.

Some of the most talented magicians I’ve met are amateurs who spend their time practicing to perfect their technique and delivery. Innovation requires time, a resource that professional magicians may not have because they are focused on securing work. By applying their energies toward marketing and self-promotion, they may have less time to practice and master their craft.

My advice, based on Hofzinser’s example, is don’t stagnate, even if you’re successful in your career. And never stop expanding your knowledge and expertise: study profoundly, understand thoroughly, and execute skillfully.

Hofzinser’s props including the Rose Mirror and Rising Cards (Ken Klosterman collection)

DON’T RUSH

Time moved more slowly in the nineteenth century. If you sent someone a handwritten letter, you might wait weeks for a response. People had more patience because they had no choice. Neither the telephone nor the airplane had yet been invented, so there was no expectation for immediate results.

Attention spans were undoubtedly longer too. Hofzinser recited original long-form poetry, written in flowerly language, while performing his magic, and his audiences listened raptly to each verse. By today’s standards, his act would feel slow, but it was just right in the nineteenth century.

Although our brains have become rewired to expect and process short, 140-character units of communication, I’ve found, after 15 years of performing Chamber Magic, that people still retain the capacity to pay attention for extended periods of time. In my 90-minute show, I perform ten tricks, each lasting about nine minutes. This runs counter to YouTube magic tricks that last all of thirty seconds.

I don’t talk particularly slowly, but I do speak deliberately to ensure that the audience receives all the necessary speaking points. My friend took cello lessons from a well-respected music instructor who offered excellent advice: if the music feels slow to you, then it’s just right for your audience. If the music feels just right to you, then it’s too fast for your audience.

The lesson here: slow down. Don’t rush. Just because people expect information to be short and snappy doesn’t mean that you have to deliver it that way. In fact, if you can engage them by appealing to their intellect and emotions, as Hofzinser did so skillfully, I guarantee they will pay attention to what you have to offer.

CONCLUSION

I have always had a deep appreciation for the work of Johann Hofzinser, and my life has taken a different course, thanks to his example. In 1999, I had a eureka moment during a daily stroll. Walking on the streets of Manhattan, I thought, “I don’t use big props, I don’t have a commanding voice, and I live in New York City,” which to my mind is a lot like 19^th century Vienna, which was populated with artisans and intellectuals and modern-day nobility. So I thought, “Maybe I can stage my own salon as Hofzinser did.”

I launched the show the following year, and have since presented my homage to my mentor Hofzinser more than 4,000 times.

In 2006, I flew from New York to Vienna. I didn’t go there to visit the Opera House, the philharmonic, or Mozart’s grave. Instead, I went to thank Hofzinser in person:

My visit in 2006 to the Zentralfriedhof cemetery in Vienna. Many thanks to Magic Christian for his assistance in locating the gravesite.

Next week: CHARLES “THINK-A-DRINK” HOFFMAN

For further study, I recommend the following books and magazines.

The Magic of J.N. Hofzinser, compiled by Ottokar Fischer, translated by Richard Hatch, 1985
J.N. Hofzinser’s Card Conjuring, by Ottokar Fischer, edited with notes by S.H. Sharpe, 1931
Non Plus Ultra, 2-volume set, by Magic Christian, 2013
November 2005 issue of Genii magazine, entire issue dedicated to Hofzinser
Library of Congress McManus-Young collection containing original Hofzinser magic props
History Makers in the World of Magic, Conjurers’ Monthly Magazine, volume 2, pp 197-200

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MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Charles Bertram

Steve Cohen — Mon, 12 Oct 2015 04:01:48 +0000

This week we’ll focus on the Court Conjurer:

CHARLES BERTRAM (1855-1907)

British magician Charles Bertram was one of the first to educate fashionable society that conjuring could fascinate sophisticated adults. He showed them that “a conjurer was not necessarily an uneducated, ill-dressed, and unreliable person, who preferred to come in at the back-door and take supper with the servants, but might be a gentleman who could hold his own in any company, who would not disgrace his host or hostess, and who could be relied on to amuse and interest their guests.” (Sidney Clarke in The Annals of Conjuring)

There is no evidence that Bertram ever met the subject of last week’s column, Max Malini, despite the fact that Bertram and Malini both entertained a similar clientele.

During his career, Charles Bertram was dubbed “The Court Conjurer” and was invited to perform in the Royal household no fewer than twenty-two times.

Picture this:

You are a guest at an elegant dinner party in Victorian London. After a satisfying meal served on fine bone China by white-gloved butlers, your host invites you to retreat to the drawing room. He offers cigars and cognac, and tells you to make yourself comfortable. It’s time for a private entertainment by Charles Bertram the magician.

Bertram walks out from behind a handsome folding screen, a jolly looking man in a well-tailored tuxedo. He sports a closely-cut and pointed beard and waxed moustache. He holds a small birdcage containing a live canary, ready to perform the now-classic Vanishing Birdcage trick. Drawing attention to the canary, Bertram comments that distinguished and sensitive audiences, “such as yourselves,” may be concerned with the safety of the animal. He swings opens the cage door to show that the bird is alive and well. At that moment, however, the bird hops out of the cage, and flies out of the room. Bertram responds, “You have flown away, have you? Well take your cage with you!” He tosses his arms upward and vanishes the birdcage in the usual way.

In my opinion this presentation is brilliantly constructed. The bird was meant to fly away all along, but Bertram made it appear unpremeditated. The audience was eager to see how the magician would resolve this awkward predicament. It was no longer just a trick, but a problem-solving exercise: “How is he going to get out of this?” they wondered. By acting convincingly, as if the vanishing birdcage was an ad-libbed solution, he spurred the audience to react with even stronger applause. In their minds, they saw an artist at work, which is considerably more interesting than a pat piece of “material.”

“Charles at the Savage Club conducting the inquisitive along the invisible line of influence,” 1907 (Peter Lane Collection)

What lessons have I learned from Charles Bertram?

SOCIALIZE WITH CLIENTS

Charles Bertram became a member of two fraternal organizations, the Freemasons and the Savage Club, rubbing elbows with politicians, socialites, and military leaders. He socialized with powerful figures in London, and became very much in demand to perform at their elite dinners and social events.

Bertram learned to navigate what could be termed “the invisible line of influence” among members of high society. By becoming a member of a social club, he was no longer considered hired help. He was an insider, a trusted friend, “one of us.” He took advantage of his flourishing friendships and discovered that there was a great deal of money to be made by performing at private engagements gained through personal connections.

BE EASY TO WORK WITH

Charles Bertram did not require much from his hostess. From the hostess’ point of view, there was no need to turn her drawing room “upside-down.” Bertram only required a table, a chair, and a folding screen to store his props behind.

Taking this to heart, I try to make it easy for my private clients to work with me. Event hosts often experience a great level of stress on the day of their event, and I don’t want to add to that. Many weeks in advance, I send my requirements in a clearly-written rider, attached to my contract. In this way, the client has plenty of time to clarify any concerns. We’ve already discussed the room layout, my start time, the sound system, and lighting. By the time I arrive at the show venue, we simply carry out the plan. I like to say to the person who hired me, “Relax and leave it to me. Everything is taken care of.”

PERFORM ONLY “CLOSERS”

Bertram performed classic routines, and embellished them with jovial presentations that suited his personality. These tricks included: Conus Aces, Cups and Balls, Cards to Pocket, Diminishing Cards, Multiplying Billiard Balls, and the Miser’s Dream, among others.

He began each show with these familiar classics, and gradually stepped up his game by performing exponentially more impressive routines – items that could each close the show in its own right. For instance, Bertram vanished a couple of borrowed finger rings, followed by a walnut, an egg, and a lemon. He then displayed a coconut to the audience, cracked it open and discovered the lemon inside. He peeled the lemon and showed that it contained the egg. Cracking the egg, he displayed the walnut inside. Finally he cracked open the walnut and produced the two borrowed rings.

As amazing as this trick is, it was not his closer. Later in the same program he performed “The Favors of Bacchus,” pouring different wines and liquors from a clear glass decanter. He filled glass after glass with different alcoholic beverages for his audience, and passed them out for people to taste. Bertram observed, “This is a very pretty trick and causes great astonishment.” I have personally performed my own version of both of these tricks, and heartily agree with Bertram’s assessment.

Since I personally represent “magic” during the course of my show, it’s my responsibility to present the most powerful material possible. I select my material so that each item could, if necessary, be the show’s closer. I am extremely picky when adding a new routine to the show. It must pass a filter I call the earthquake test: if there were an earthquake and everyone had to evacuate the show early, would this routine have been strong enough to be my closer?

The challenge is to take the strongest material and organize those elements into a longer routine that has its own internal dramatic structure. The show has to build in a pleasing arc, or else there is only one “note” that will eventually wear off.

MAKE A PRINTED PROGRAM

In an effort to expand his reach to larger audiences, Bertram presented public shows in mid-sized theaters across England, India and North America. The shows ran about one hour long, plus an intermission. Upon entering the theater, audience members received a printed program containing the title of each act.

Here is sample of one Bertram program:

I’ve discussed the idea of distributing a show program with other professional magicians. Most dislike the idea. They feel that having a printed program prevents flexibility and experimentation from show to show. If you don’t follow the program, they argue, it becomes apparent to the audience that your set list doesn’t match up with the show they are watching.

While I understand this argument, I follow Bertram’s approach. Chamber Magic customers receive a printed list of the show contents on their chairs, similar to the playbill you would receive at a classical music concert or Broadway show. During the show, some of my patrons refer to the program, looking down at the end of each trick to see what’s next. Others like to have a concrete reminder that helps jog their memory upon returning home.

Of course I don’t want my performances to stagnate. I can always include or replace items on the program at my own discretion. If an audience member asks about it later, I simply say with a wink, “I cooked something off-the-menu for you tonight.”

Conclusion

One of the things that first drew me to learn more about Charles Bertram was his catch phrase. At the end of each mind-blowing trick, Bertram softened the blow by uttering the phrase, “Isn’t it wonderful?”

I find this phrase to be a lovely and endearing way to frame a magic trick. “Isn’t it wonderful?” takes the sting out of being fooled. It elevates the trick beyond being a mere puzzle, and subtly reminds the audience to focus on how it makes them feel. Bertram’s tricks were good enough that they truly filled the audience with wonder.

Next week: JOHANN NEPOMUK HOFZINSER

For further study, I recommend the following books and magazines.

Charles Bertram The Court Conjurer, by Edwin Dawes
Isn’t It Wonderful, by Charles Bertram, 1896
A Magician in Many Lands, by Charles Bertram, 1896
The Modern Conjurer and Drawing Room Entertainer, by C. Lang Neil, 1903
The Annals of Conjuring, by Sidney W. Clark, Chapter 11

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MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Max Malini

Steve Cohen — Mon, 05 Oct 2015 04:01:33 +0000

Some of these people are alive, others no longer with us. Some are famous, others not so much. The beauty of mentorship is that you don’t necessarily have to meet your mentor face-to-face, nor even live during the same time in history. Many of the people who inspired me were alive a century before I was born! By reading classic books, old newspapers, and magazine articles, I’ve tracked down stories about their lives and work that continue to motivate me to become a better entertainer.

My “big three” mentors are Max Malini, Johann Nepomuk Hofzinser, and Jean Eugene Robert-Houdin. Each of these giants will be featured in coming weeks. You’ll also read about contemporary figures like Harry Lorayne and Albert Goshman, non-magicians Danny Kaye and Sammy Davis, Jr. and even fictional characters like Willy Wonka.

Ready? Let’s begin with my number one greatest inspiration:

MAX MALINI

(Via Thirteen.org, photo in Ricky Jay collection)

Imagine this. It’s 1905, over one hundred years ago. You’re attending a fancy charity event at a Park Avenue apartment. Looking around, you recognize boldface names from the newspaper’s society column – Vanderbilt, Carnegie, and Astor. Anyone who is anybody seems to be there. A short, gruff looking guest arrives suddenly at the door wearing a thick overcoat. His odd appearance draws the attention of the room. Without speaking, the stranger pulls a hand drill out from his coat, walks to the wall, and drills a hole in it. Wood shavings from the wall fall to the ground in a pile at his feet. He reaches into his pocket, removes a metal hook, and sticks it into the freshly bored hole. At last, the odd man doffs his overcoat, and hangs it on the hook. He faces the crowd and announces in a gravely, thick Eastern European accent, “Ladeez and genteelmen, goot evening. I’m Malini the Machician.”

For the next several hours, Malini baffles the guests with impossible-looking sleight of hand tricks, and seemingly unplanned miracles. At the end of the night, after gathering his sizable paycheck, Malini walks to the front door, removes his hanging coat, pulls the hook out of the wall, and leaves. To everyone’s amazement, the hole that was drilled in the wall is now gone!

This story, a true one told to me by a relative of Max Malini, is one of many that demonstrates the extent of his brilliance. His performances were the stuff of which legends are made.

From Steve Cohen collection

Born in Austria, Malini emigrated as a boy to the United States in 1887 or 1888, settling in New York City. Working at saloons on the Bowery for tips, he began a new life with nothing but his skill and quick wit. Eventually Malini rose to the pinnacle of show business, making (and spending) several fortunes in his lifetime. During his career, Malini entertained several U.S. Presidents, gave command performances in Buckingham Palace, and received gifts from monarchs in Europe and Asia.

After traveling the world, he lived and performed in the original Waldorf Astoria hotel, located on 34^th Street and Fifth Avenue in New York (the current location of the Empire State Building). In one of his signature tricks, Malini produced a solid brick from inside a borrowed hat. This brick was placed on display in the lobby of the original Waldorf, presented in a glass display case. A museum card at the front of the case read: “Brick produced from an empty hat by magician Max Malini.” Given my own personal fascination with Malini, I was determined to locate this brick so that I could use it in my own shows at the Waldorf Astoria. Alas, it was lost during the demolition of the original hotel.

Over the years, I’ve tracked down other Malini materials for my own personal collection, including Malini’s business card, a ticket to one of his public shows, a rare advertising booklet, a playing card he handled in performance, and a hand-signed portrait. I was also delighted to hold Malini’s gloves and shoes when I visited David Copperfield’s museum in Las Vegas.

Holding Max Malini’s opera gloves, at David Copperfield’s museum

During a trip to Hawaii, I made a pilgrimage to Malini’s house in Honolulu, stood in his garden, and retraced the steps to many of his old stomping grounds. I even stepped onto the stage where he performed, at the Royal Hawaiian hotel. Click here for an in-depth photoessay.

What is it about Max Malini that fascinates me? Why do magicians still speak reverently of Malini today, nearly 75 years after his death?

In my opinion, Malini personified some ideal characteristics of what a magician should be. Here are some lessons he taught me:

Rare photo of Malini, signed to Nate Leipzig (courtesy Johnny Fox collection)

TRAVEL LIGHT, BUT ALWAYS BE READY

Malini carried no visible apparatus, but produced or borrowed objects as needed for his performances. Even the tables he worked on were borrowed from the hotel or club where he appeared. Once asked by another magician about his approach, Malini replied, “Vot the hell you vant to cart all dat junk around for? Do it de easy vay.”

Malini made his reputation outside of the theaters, performing close-up tricks in private clubs and lobby lounges. He was always loaded with something to produce, whether a red brick or a head of cabbage. Before a show in someone’s private home, he would stop into the kitchen and load his pockets with various fruits that he would later reveal under cups or inside a lady’s purse.

That’s the first of Malini’s lessons – travel light, but always be ready. Instead of performing the classic Cups and Balls with specially balanced silver cups manufactured for the sole purpose of this trick, Malini borrowed three kitchen glasses. Instead of balls he used three medicine bottle corks. A butter knife became his magic wand. In front of the audience, Malini covered each glass with a square of newspaper so that nobody could see inside. He proceeded to perform the trick, apparently “off the cuff.” The impromptu nature of the props made his practiced handling that much more disarming to the audience. They had no chance of seeing him manipulate the pieces of cork as they jumped among the cups. And the fruit he had previously stolen from the kitchen made a surprising appearance at the end: one lemon under each cup.

(Courtesy of Ken Klosterman)

FOCUS ON SHOWMANSHIP

Malini was not a particularly talented manipulator, or a crack card man. However, according to David Bamberg, Malini was a master showman: “Some of the card moves I saw him do were the crudest things imaginable, but no one noticed as his acting ability covered up for him.”

Roy Benson agreed that Malini was a superb showman – on par with Houdini even – who had a fine sense of the dramatic and never hesitated to use it. Malini could dramatically build each trick to a startling climax.

It’s possible to take the smallest trick, the vanish of a gold coin from within a folded sheet of paper, for example, and expand it into a great mystery. The mechanics of the trick itself may not be particularly intricate, but the lead-up, the presentation, the audience by-play must be engaging and fun. When Malini sat with a crowd, something was always happening: a funny story, an amusing compliment, an impromptu game of dice. He kept audiences on their toes, by changing up the moment with seemingly irrelevant stories that would have a big payoff at the end.

Here is some verbatim patter that Malini used during his stage show, immediately before vanishing a large bowl of water:

“Dis trick vot I am going to do now I vos teached in China. I don’t need no big stage and a lot of assistants and fancy scenery to do it. I admit I ain’t Chesus Christ but I’m better dan a lot of oders vot call themselves machicians.”

What a character! If I were in that audience, I know that I’d be on the edge of my seat.

This reminds me of advice given by David Berglas: when performing magic, “the order of importance is personality, presentation, and finally the method.” The one thing on this list that can’t be taught is personality.

AIM HIGH

Malini was an unabashed gate-crasher. Dressed to the nines, he walked uninvited into private clubs, found the most important person in the room, and introduced himself as the greatest magician in the world. Malini quickly performed some fascinating tricks and ingratiated himself to the high-ranking member and his friends. Invariably they would invite him to stay at the club for supper and drinks. This often led to invitations for him to perform privately at their swanky homes and mansions. He repeated this modus operandi in Hong Kong, Shanghai, Buenos Aires, San Francisco, Chicago, and across Europe. It clearly worked for him.

Early in my career I took Malini’s behavior to heart. When I was twenty-three, I scheduled weekly visits to the Peninsula Hotel, one of New York’s most elegant hotels. Each Wednesday I sat in the bar lounge, chatted with other patrons over a few drinks, and showed them magic – free of charge. Nobody invited me there, and it was not a paying gig. It was simply my way of emulating Malini’s self-introduction. Some of the people I met in the lounge politely asked me to leave. Others, however, booked me privately for high-end events in castles, and on private islands. This was an eye-opener! I was suddenly launched into a world I had only imagined. The management of the Peninsula eventually got word of my unauthorized appearances, asked me to stop, and called me in to speak with their manager. Instead of being reprimanded, he introduced me to the Catering Director, who booked me for dozens of corporate shows and weddings at the Peninsula, thus launching my career as a society entertainer in New York.

WAIT A WEEK

While Malini performed stage shows for audiences of several hundred people, his specialty was performing at a bar or table. David Bamberg writes: “Much has been written about his misdirection, but for me he had something that surpassed that. He was never in a hurry and would wait patiently his chance to spring unawares.”

Malini allegedly once had a conversation with another magician about misdirection. The magician wanted to know how Malini, with his tiny and pudgy hands, was able to execute a secret card sleight without being caught. Malini explained, “You vait until they look up.” The other magician asked what he would do if the audience didn’t look up. What would happen, he asked, if they continuously stare at your hands? Malini answered, “You vait a veek!”

While this legendary story may be apocryphal, it illustrates the need to be vividly aware of your audience. Each audience member is a living, breathing individual, looking at a different spot, from a different angle, with the intent to “catch” the performer. If the magician places focus on his own hands, and the importance of the props he’s holding, so will the audience. They have no choice. The key is to make the performance about something larger. If you present something that is more engaging, the audience will look away from your hands, naturally. Because they’re human. And humans are interested in other humans. In Chamber Magic, nobody catches my sleights because each move is executed when the focus is elsewhere. I “vait” until someone responds to a question that everyone wants to hear. I “vait” until someone stands up to move next to me. I “vait” until a joke’s punchline registers, since the audience can’t laugh and pay close attention to my hands at the same time. If necessary, I’ll vait a veek and a half.

BE BOLD

It takes guts to pull off the kinds of tricks that Malini was known for. He threw a glass of whiskey into the air, and it vanished mid-throw. He yanked a button off of someone’s jacket, and later magically reattached it. He got into people’s personal space and didn’t feel guilty about it. One of Malini’s card routines described in The Vernon Chronicles explains that he would grab a spectator by the shoulders and adjust how they were standing, while performing a secret move at that exact moment. He wasn’t scared or deferential to his audiences. And it didn’t matter who he was performing for. When appearing before the King of England, he was instructed to bow deeply and address the leader as “your highness.” In his inimitable way, Malini skipped the bow, came in close to share a cigar, and called the King, “Royal Mister.” This brash attitude broke the ice, and allowed Malini to engage the King on his own terms.

I recalled this story when I performed for the Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia, in New York. The Saudi liaison told me that if the Crown Prince gets tired, they would give me a signal to stop at once. The liaison asked me how long my performance would be. Typically, the show runs 60 minutes, but I figured that since we started late I shouldn’t go on too long. The liaison suggested I aim for 20 minutes, and see how the Crown Prince liked it.

I was given a brief lesson in protocol, and was instructed to address the Crown Prince as “Your Majesty.” And, I was instructed not to walk within ten feet of his throne.

By the end of the night, I had performed for 55 minutes, and was standing 18 inches from his nose.

Conclusion

In order to yield maximum growth in the shortest amount of time, it makes sense to model yourself after someone who has already achieved the goals you desire. In my case I wanted to become a successful drawing-room and private entertainer, so I modeled my career and my magic after Max Malini, the greatest of them all.

The next routine I’m adding to my show was refined and popularized by Malini: the Blindfolded Card Stab. It is a masterpiece of magic and showmanship that I can’t wait to share with my audiences.

On a more personal level, I had the rare opportunity to stand in the garden where Malini died, and later tracked down and interviewed the man who held him in his arms as Malini took his final breath. While Malini has passed on (dying in 1942 in Honolulu), his spirit is still alive each time I step on stage. He is my role model and shining star of the type of magician I strive to be.

Next week: CHARLES BERTRAM

For further study, I recommend the following books and magazines.

Malini and His Magic, by Dai Vernon. Edited by Lewis Ganson
Learned Pigs and Fireproof Women, by Ricky Jay. Chapter 6, “Max Malini: The Last of the Mountebanks”
Genii Magazine, November 1999. Issue dedicated to Malini
Genii Magazine, October 2012. Issue dedicated to Malini
The Annals of Conjuring, by Sidney W. Clarke. Pages 356-357
Roy Benson By Starlight, by Levent and Todd Karr. Pages 426-428
Stars of Magic, “Vernon on Malini.” Pages 150-157
Illusion Show, by David Bamberg. Pages 186-189
The Sphinx, many references throughout the entire run of this magazine
The Malini Story, published in The Conjuror’s Magazine, Walter B. Gibson.
Okito on Magic, by Theodore Bamberg. Pages 38-41, and 90-92
“We Knew Max Malini,” narrated to George C. Kaplan. Hugard’s Magic Monthly, Vol. 9

I’ve also written numerous original articles about Malini on this blog:

The post MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Max Malini appeared first on Chamber Magic.

mmm Archives - Chamber Magic

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Mark Sicher

MARK SICHER

A memory from actor Dustin Hoffman…

IT’S NOT WHAT YOU DO, OR HOW YOU DO IT. IT’S WHO DOES IT. IF THE WHO IS RIGHT, THE WHAT AND HOW MUST BE RIGHT.

BE BOLD

PEOPLE BOTH LOVE TO LAUGH AND FEEL AWE

PERFORM “LIVE”

MARK SICHER’S DENTAL ACT

MARK SICHER’S FINAL PERFORMANCE

Conclusion:

Further Reading:

Special thanks:

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Albert Goshman

Illustration by Juan Luis Rubiales

ALBERT GOSHMAN

THE CLASSICS NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE

DO FIVE THINGS BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE

YOU ARE THE MAGIC

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Harry Lorayne

HARRY LORAYNE

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Jean Eugene Robert-Houdin

JEAN EUGÈNE ROBERT-HOUDIN (1805-1871)

What lessons have I learned from Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin?

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: “Think-a-Drink” Hoffman

CHARLES “THINK-A-DRINK” HOFFMAN (1896-1966)

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: J.N. Hofzinser

JOHANN NEPOMUK HOFZINSER (1806-1875)

What lessons have I learned from J.N. Hofzinser?

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Charles Bertram

CHARLES BERTRAM (1855-1907)

MAGIC MENTOR MONDAY: Max Malini

MAX MALINI

**IT’S NOT WHAT YOU DO, OR HOW YOU DO IT. IT’S WHO DOES IT. IF THE WHO IS RIGHT, THE WHAT AND HOW MUST BE RIGHT.**