No Business Like . . .

So, you want to know how to make it in this business. Well, I'll
tell you. Hard work, determination, plenty of luck - all the usual
things - but you'll get nowhere without a gift, a natural gift. Oh, you
can learn a few routines, buy a few ready-mades and put together an act
- but you'll never be anything more than an amateur without a gift.
That's what gives an act its shine, that's what makes it magic. So,
think about it: have you got a gift?
You've still got to learn the craft; nothing comes easy in this game.
Practise, practise, practise - you can never get enough of it. Research
too - nothing's new in this business, just newly minted, polished up
and passed off as newborn. I learned a lot from the old masters - those
guys really knew how to put an act together.
And don't think you're going to conquer the world in the first six
months. Start small; take your time - your career could last a lifetime
if you're lucky. I started in typical fashion - putting little shows
together, astounding my family and friends! Then doing a few tricks at
village functions, church get-togethers - all the time building up my
confidence, transforming myself into a performer, an artist.
But if you're really ambitious you'll reach the point when you're
thirsting for an opening that'll hook you out of your little pond and
send you splashing into the great big sea of national, even
international, exposure. You might not even recognise it at the time
but when you look back you'll see it for what it is.
My big break? One little trick that went down much better than I could
ever have expected. A routine that I thought might please, impress
maybe, just took a crowd by storm.
"More wine!" they all cried. "Give us more wine!"
So there I was, fleetingly torn between the two clich?s of 'giving the
audience what it wants' and 'always leave them wanting more' until the
clamour for "More wine!" overwhelmed me and I gave in. I filled every
glass held out to me. And I carried on doing it for the rest of the
afternoon. However many times I offered, "You can have any drink you
like," it made no difference. "More wine, more wine!" was all I
got.
Don't get me wrong, I was enjoying the attention, what performer
wouldn't, but my professional pride was just a little wounded. When
you've spent time developing a routine you like to see it reach its
full potential; achieve the maximum impact, as they say. And the Magic
Kettle is a great routine, simple but spectacular. One of those pieces
where everybody thinks they can beat the performer but they'll never
succeed. "You can have any drink you like. Any drink in the world. Just
name your poison and my Magic Kettle will provide it!" Who could
resist? But, that afternoon, all I got was, "More wine, more
wine!"
I should have anticipated something unexpected happening that
afternoon. Wedding gigs are always unpredictable. Let's face it; a
magician is never going to be the main attraction at a wedding
reception. Families setting up warring camps on opposite sides of the
room, each determined to show the other that their son or daughter has
obviously made a great mistake, are not going to be placated by the
subtle arts of prestidigitation. And then there's always a hard core
who just want to get drunk in the shortest possible time. No wonder
they got so annoyed when the wine ran out.
Strictly speaking, I wasn't actually working that day. I was a guest,
although they weren't close relatives and so it was understood that I'd
provide a bit of entertainment when things started to get a bit slow or
if it looked as if a fight might break out. But it never hurts to put
on a bit of a show while you've got a captive audience, hand out a few
business cards, and maybe pick up a few bookings. It gets you known,
gives you a chance to build up a bit of a following. Never pass up a
publicity opportunity - as long as they're not too drunk to remember
you afterwards. Remember, this was the beginning of my career. I was
hardly heard of outside my hometown and this was definitely an away
fixture.
Now, I don't know what made me take along my Kettle that day. I usually
like to impress with a few tricks using everyday objects - like the
multiplying bread-roll trick, say - rather than using any elaborate
paraphernalia. I'm aiming at the more sophisticated end of the market -
after-dinner entertainment, corporate events, that sort of thing. The
class of people I want to interest often look down on anything that
smacks too obviously of show business. Conjuror, magician, illusionist
- they're not always expressions of respect, you know. It's an image
problem, we all suffer from - too many tacky performers and con artists
have come before us.
But, whatever, I did take along the Kettle and when the wine ran out I
saw my chance. "I can supply you with any drink you want. I just fill
my Magic Kettle with water and take your order." That's the patter,
anyway, of course, it's not quite as simple as it sounds - there are
limitations, I'll admit - but, with a little judicious misdirection I
can certainly make them think they've been able to order any drink in
the world. Patter is the key to a trick like this - to any really good
illusion, in my opinion - keep the words flowing, carry them along with
you, and you can convince them of anything. The equipment certainly
helps, I wouldn't pretend that a good piece of tackle isn't pretty
useful, but it can be disastrous in the wrong hands and without
effective patter the whole thing lacks artistry - there's no
magic.
Look, I'm getting sidetracked here - let's get back to that afternoon.
As I said, I'd been biding my time, waiting for the right moment.
That's another thing I was working on - developing my image. I was
going for a sort of Man of Mystery persona. My keywords were stillness
and silence, presence and poise. I was aiming to create an aura of
inscrutability, saying nothing until it was time to speak, keeping
myself to myself. It's an old technique, one of the oldest probably,
but it really does work. Now, I can bring a room to silence without
saying a word. Then, when I've got going, I sprinkle the patter with
all sorts of enigmatic hogwash and mystical gibberish that really gives
the act some class.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not putting own other styles of performance. I
mean, my cousin's got a really great act where he puts on this wild and
wacky character stomping around making crazy speeches and appearing to
eat creepy-crawlies. He really pulls in the crowds, I can tell you. But
I couldn't do it; that's just not me. One thing I've learned in this
business is that you've got to be true to yourself or the audience will
see straight through you.
Anyway, (I'll get to the point of this story soon, honestly) they
wanted wine so I gave them wine. They were even impressed by the wine I
produced. So much so that they paid the bride's father all sorts of
elaborate compliments. "You've saved the best vintage till last," they
said, as if he'd had anything to do with it. But I didn't care; the
trick did the trick (in a manner of speaking). Got them talking about
me. In fact, I was all they talked about for the rest of the afternoon
- the happy couple looked decidedly put out by the lack of attention.
So, who knows, a few decent bookings might come out of it.
Mind you, you've got to be careful you don't take on more than you can
handle. I've seen plenty of other acts peak too soon and disappear.
They get too big, their overheads make them uneconomic, their fees go
through the roof, and then the bookings dry up. I need to develop the
act but I've got to be sensible. Like with this business of hiring an
assistant. Now, assistants are all right - they can add a fantastic
amount to an act - but they're always going pose problems. You see, an
assistant's got to be bright enough to understand how things work or
he'll just be hopeless but that makes him dangerous. Before you know
where you are he's stealing your act (plus your audience) and setting
himself up in competition. Audiences are fickle, you see, they've got
no loyalty. Oh yes, they'll remember you maybe, they might even say you
were the greatest ever, but they'll be off with the next best thing
before you've had time to draw breath.
That's why I'm in two minds about hiring an assistant. If I can just
give them enough to get by with they might not go rushing off to start
their own acts until I'm dead and gone.
Now the coming thing seems to be female assistants. I can see the logic
in that - a bit of glamour can broaden the appeal
Still interested in making a career in magic? I'm not trying to put you
off but I've got to be honest. It's a cutthroat business; it's easy to
make enemies without trying. I keep out of it as much as possible. Live
and let live I say, treat everyone as you'd want to be treated yourself
and you can't go wrong, be nice to the people on the way up because
you're bound to meet them on the way down - all the usual stuff.
There's no doubt that as soon as you start to build up a following
there are plenty of people out there just waiting to see you fall. And
if you don't manage it yourself, they'll damn well do their best to do
it for you. Any excuse will do - revealing secrets, stealing someone's
pitch, performing on a Sunday - anything can make you vulnerable.
Politics, politics, nothing but politics.
So, what I'm saying is - you've got to watch your back. That's why I'm
working on a really special illusion in case the going gets too tough.
It's a disappearing trick. Yes, I know it's been done before but this
one's going to be different, really different. This won't be a locked
box covered with a cloth or a canvas sack. I'm planning something
genuinely spectacular - like being walled up in a cave or some such.
Making the impossible possible - that's the essence of magic. And the
more impossible it appears the more magical it is.
All I've got to do is work on the build-up. You can't hurry a trick
like this. The public needs to be prepared as much as the performer.
You've got to set the scene, sow the seed that will blossom into
astonishment at exactly the right moment. That's the vital part of an
illusion like this - that's what makes it really memorable.