Diary

Funhouse

1/3/2021

Smallini (that's me) is seen onstage with an old decorative trunk. The trunk is opened and a green balloon is removed from it. After some magical hand manipulations, a twisted balloon dog emerges and it is placed on a coffee table that's set to the side. This is repeated twice with blue and pink balloons, and their resulting creations (a rabbit and a bear).

A decorative box-like prop labeled "Funhouse" is brought onstage, along with another balloon and a balloon pump. The balloon is inflated and placed inside the Funhouse - The balloon can clearly be seen to fill the interior of the box, with it's ends protruding on either side.

The magician then flips the switch at the top of the box, with the intention of something happening, but it does not. He tries it several more times, growing frustrated, until he remembers to remove a long, sharp metal pin attached to the side of the box. The magician then thrusts the pin into the balloon, causing a loud dramatic pop. At that same moment, the inside of the box can be seen filled with some objects.

The trunk is brought onstage again and the magician proceeds to remove from the box what are now seen to be small plush animals. He fills the trunk with them until they are practically overflowing, then takes his place in front of the ending tableau for the curtain.

Funhouse is a new routine that I'm excited to debut at the next possible opportunity (worldwide pandemic permitting). I've owned the beautiful Funhouse cabinet (created by Chance Wolf) for many years, but have never found a way to incorporate it into my act. Recently, I came across a new magic item whereby you can create mini balloon animals in a magical manner. This item proved to be the lightbulb that set me on the path to this routine. I added the mini plush animals and a wonderful old-style trunk, along with a dollhouse coffee table, and the outfit was complete.

I hope to have enough mini balloon and plush animals that I can give one of each away for every performance. What delightful keepsakes those would make!

The Funhouse is the second of three new routines that I'm excited to be developing (The first being the aforementioned Cups and Balls). Soon I will talk about the third routine - the much-awaited Walking Through a Brick Wall, in this diary.

Smallini's Cups & Balls

10/24/2020

I’ve finally secured a set of Cups and Balls for my evening show. Due to the nature of my height (small), and the restrictive stage requirements of the Suitcase of Wonders (also small), this was a process that was many years in the making. Of course, I’ve performed the C&Bs for as long as I’ve been a magician, working with all kinds of sets, from disposable plastic drinking cups and paper napkin balls to finely spun copper cups and knitted cork balls. But these handlings have been for private and informal close-up shows; I have long been searching for the right set of Cups and Balls for my evening stage program, and alas, I think I might have found them.

This set, which I acquired from a reputable magic dealer, are not only of the proper proportions, but also the appropriate quality and (importantly), weight. They were a value in that the set also came with a chop cup and shell.

Ultimately, the routine is the key to a satisfying C&B performance. With so much material available from some of the greatest practitioners of this trick, it can feel intimidating and overwhelming to assemble a routine to present professionally. But one (namely I) must also remember that the cups and balls is a continually evolving magic organism with slights, moves, and handlings being tinkered with and improved by magicians both professional and amateur all over the world. Like a deck of cards, the cups and balls are a classic magic instrument that can be whatever you want it to be in your hands.

After a few weeks, I’m pleased to have a first draft of a routine that seems to fit Smallini’s persone and is fun to perform. Right now, the meat of it is from the late Mark Wilson (a routine I’ve always loved), but with an ending I changed to fit the stage show. Instead of the balls being disposed of in one’s pocket (as would be fit for close-up work), I place them in a nicely decorated box sitting atop a side table. When the door to the box is opened, the balls have vanished and the cups make the classic reveal of the three large loads. Having another piece of apparatus on stage and being used with the cups is something I haven’t seen before, but Lord knows given that this is literally the oldest magic trick known to man, there could be another instance of that published somewhere.

Right now the loads are a larger version of the red balls, leading me to ponder the idea of taking those larger red balls and turning them into a final large red item (an Apple?); Sort of a cross between Cups and Balls and Diminishing Cards (in reverse). I’m also playing with a surprise liquid (wine) pour from the cups after they’ve been collected, perhaps in conjunction with the production of some large red grapes?

A Mere Puzzle

7/15/2020

When reading essays and reviews about magic, I often come upon statements comparing a poor magic trick to a “mere puzzle.” The negative identifier, “mere” always seems to proceed the assumed lesser activity of “puzzle.” Magicians seem to acknowledge that puzzles are a sort of cousin to magic, but a lesser one, kind of like juggling.

I’ve seen “mere puzzle” and “merely a puzzle” used in writings by venerated magicians including Tamirez, Maven, and Kaufman, all more or less with the same point - that if a spectator of magic perceives a magic trick as a puzzle, then the magician has failed, specifically, to mystify. Perhaps the puzzle in and of itself, magicians conclude, is not necessarily inferior to magic, but magic, they say, should never be confused with a puzzle - for in that context it is an inferior experience - a “mere puzzle.”

While I appreciate the reasoning behind differentiating magic with puzzles, the negative mere puzzle sentiment has not sat well with me over the years, and so I was intrigued when I read a quote by Stuart James (from The Essential Stewart James) where he proclaimed, “The simplest puzzle is far cleverer than the most brilliant trick. You can’t cheat to arrive at the solution to a puzzle. A magician invariably cheats in order to complete a trick.”

Malcolm Gladwell wrote a piece about Enron years ago for the New Yorker where he postulated the differences between a mystery and a puzzle. He concluded that it was a matter of information. With a puzzle you know the information is available, you just need to find it. Whereas with a mystery, you’re not even sure the information exists.

In magic, there is an intense moment of astonishment - as spectators we don’t know if information exists to explain what we’ve just experienced - it is a mystery. But soon after, inevitably, we begin to puzzle over the trick, knowing (from our logical perception of our world) there must be a solution. But magicians want us to minimize the puzzling feeling. They want us to indefinitely suspend disbelief in our knowledge system of the world so that we can remain in a blissfully ignorant state of mystery - a feeling they claim is qualitatively better than one of puzzlement (pondering the answer/secret/solution).

For some, puzzlement is an enjoyable feeling. However, magicians believe this aftereffect of a magic trick is a lesser feeling than that of being resignedly mystified. So they endeavor to avoid and defer the most common reaction to magic trick, “How did you do that?” believing it is a misplaced (and lesser) reaction, befit to someone who wants to solve a “mere puzzle.”

For puzzles, the act of solving is the pleasure. This seems to inherently contradict magic’s fundamental pleasure, which is not solving. Never the twain shall meet, according to magicians. The minute a person begins to try and ‘solve’ a magic trick they enter into puzzle territory, a misguided and inappropriate activity under the prescribed circumstances (a mystery).

Again, while I understand how a magician might want a magic experience to be exclusively about mystery, I don’t feel that puzzlement (as defined by the dictionary: to solve or understand something by thinking hard) as an additional reaction should be construed as a negative outcome. As magicians, why not welcome ‘puzzling’ as an appreciation rather than embarrassment?

Remember, a “mere puzzle” might end up being the brilliant magic trick you hoped for.

Vanishing Elephant Demo

6/4/2020

Here is another demo of a Suitcase of Wonders routine, The Vanishing Elephant, that I mocked up on the computer to be a "playable" magic experience. Once again, as in the previous demo, the player/spectator initiates the action as the routine progresses. There are no branching possibilities, or conditional actions, but I still think the routine has its own feel that is different from simply watching a video performance.

A Hopping Production Demo

5/22/2020

Looking for things to do while quarantined in NYC, I decided to mock up on the computer an idea I've had for some time.

Ever since the first days of "interactive" media in the mid-90's (think CD-ROMs), I've been interested in creating "playable" versions of magic routines on the computer. I just like the idea of being able to click on magic apparatus within scenes and having it behave as if you were watching the trick, but you were moving it along yourself, so to speak.

I really had no idea how this would look and feel until I mocked up a couple of Suitcase of Wonders routines. I rather like the result. There is definitely a subtle difference in initiating the action as opposed to simply being a viewer. It does feel like I'm "playing" the trick.

Please enjoy watching a video demonstration of my first example, A Hopping Production. I'm sorry I can't provide an actual playable app at this time, but hopefully you will get the general idea. I will have another example to show next month.

April 26th, 2020

4/26/2020

Big Apple Circus Still Kicks Ass

2/1/2020

When looking for something to do on a gray January afternoon, I was happy to be reminded once again of one of the benefits to living in New York City - half-price tickets to excellent same-day entertainment. On a whim, my wife and I decided to take our sons to see The Big Apple Circus, which was playing in town next to Lincoln Center. We scored practically ring-side seats, half-off, for later that same day. Boom!

The last I heard about the legendary Big Apple Circus was that it filed for bankruptcy and its star clown had resigned for sexual misconduct. A sad, inglorious end to a wonderful circus that I had experienced several times over the years. Or so I thought. The Circus was back, apparently, and this time around they had a cat show!

What an amazing afternoon we had. The Circus was another reminder that experiencing good live entertainment up close cannot be surpassed: A man doing a backwards somersault from one trotting horse onto another? Check. A woman dressed like a pigeon clowning around with the audience? Check. Feats of strength you didn’t know humans were capable of? Check. Cats doing tricks on command? Check. Another somersault? Ok, how about a guy doing one on a spinning “Death Wheel” sixty feet high? Check. Juggling open umbrellas? Yes.

My thirteen year-old was blown away enough to not reach for his phone, citing his favorite acts being the Wheel of Death routine and the cat show. As an owner of two house cats, I don’t know if I can accurately describe the amazement of witnessing those creatures perform tricks for humans in the spotlight of a live crowd. Dogs? Well, Ok, sure. But cats? Truly astounding.

All of the acts, including the refreshing and funky new Ring Master, were impressive, as I would have expected from the Big Apple Circus. I was just extra happy to see the troupe still kicking ass.

Special mention goes to seventy-nine year-old Hovey Burgess, who was giving beginning juggling lessons to kids before the show. I’d never heard of Hovey (although his face seemed familiar when I saw him), until I looked him up and discovered his distinguished circus arts career, including playing a small role in one of my favorite movies, Robert Altman’s Popeye (He played Mort, one of the toughs).

A Performance for Steve Cohen

1/18/2020

Today I had the privilege and pleasure of giving a private performance to the great Steve Cohen, master magician and host of Chamber Magic, the best magic show in New York City for the last twenty years.

I had seen The Millionaire’s Magician back in 2005 when his show was playing at the Waldorf Astoria. Now Chamber Magic’s home is the opulent Lotte New York Palace Hotel. And that is where I met Mr. Cohen, shortly before he was to perform three consecutive shows as part of his five-show weekend run.

I performed a short set for him and then we chatted for a bit. Mr. Cohen was very complimentary of my magic and offered some good advice as well. It was wonderful spending time with this consummate professional and great guy!

Orange Box

12/31/2019

Last month I performed at the Oddities Flea Market in Brooklyn, where there were a number of intriguing vendors selling well-crafted off-beat wares. That flea market is a seasonal attraction/event that appears once or twice a year for a weekend.

This month I read with sadness about the closing of the long-standing and legendary Chelsea Flea Market. As a long-time New Yorker and a person of the Gen X generation, it is distressing to see yet another NYC cultural institution, the weekend flea market, fade away, along with record shops and book stores. As noted in the NY Times article, Andy Warhol used to frequent the Chelsea Flea Market in the 1980s. Now, most likely, the space will be turned into a bank or some such antiseptic corporate entity.

I remember years ago wandering around the Chelsea Flea Market and discovering the “Appealing” Orange Box, a wooden box magic trick that I once owned as a pre-teenager. It’s rare to find vintage magic tricks at regular flea markets, as those items usually stay within the specialized circuit of magic auctions and collectors. That’s why it was exciting to see this oddly painted, somewhat beat-up box trick sitting on a table among other ordinary antique objects.

Of course I purchased it (at a reasonable price, if I remember correctly), and added it to my fledgling collection of MAK magic tricks that I already owned (Square Circle, Turkish Turmoil, Temple Screen, Strat-O-Sphere). These are tricks that I and my childhood friend would drool over in magic catalogues. They were exotic-looking objects, spray stenciled with nonsense Chinese lettering, and brightly colored shapes. They were magic apparatus, in the best sense of the word. As a kid performing magic shows for kids, these magic tricks elevated our status to illusionists, like the ones we saw in the old posters from the golden age of magic - the Thurstons, and Blackstones with their stage full of boxes and tubes.

Unfortunately, most of my MAK magic tricks were destroyed in a basement flood years ago, but the Orange Box remains. It is actually a pretty bad trick in terms of routine and fooling, but I don’t care. I love it. And now, in addition to being a memento from my youth in magic, the Orange Box will also be a reminder of the now lost Chelsea Flea Market in New York City. Along with Tower Records and Gotham Book Mart, may she always be remembered through the objects that were once purchased there.

Oddities Flea Market

11/8/2019

The Oddities Flea Market, an intriguing event that occurs seasonally in New York, LA, and Chicago, contains, "an endless sea of strange and unusual objects...curated for fans of the macabre." I have been wanting to attend for the last couple of years, thinking I could pick up something interesting for the Suitcase of Wonders.

Next month in Brooklyn I will get my chance to attend as I am also scheduled to perform for guests in the VIP Oddities Lounge (sponsored by Atlas Obscura). I look forward to both performing at and perusing the Holiday of Wonders Oddities Flea Market in December.

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