Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Magicians Who Can Talk

I grew up in Atlantic City, New Jersey. During and immediately after World War II, many of the hotels there were used as recovery hospitals for our troops who were injured in the war. My late father, a Podiatrist and recently discharged from the Merchant Marine, volunteered his services to the hospitals there while he was starting to build his private practice.

There were a lot of entertainers on scene to play the clubs in Atlantic City and many of them spent their spare time entertaining the convalescing troops. One such entertainer was a magician who called himself Hardin. He was the brother of the great escape artist Houdini. My dad was always interested in show business and longed to be a part of it, but the closest he came was helping Hardin to perfect his escape routines. Dad spent many hours tying and chaining Hardin to various heavy objects. (This was quite acceptable behavior in the day as it was before bondage became mainstream.) Anyway, the problem was that often Hardin was unable to extricate himself from my father's elaborate hogtying and his act and their friendship suffered as a result.

In later years when my father would talk about these times he said that Hardin would have done much better if he had been a magician who could talk. What does that mean I would ask. "Well," dad would explain "If Hardin could have developed some sort of rapport with the audience by engaging them in conversation, he could have diverted their attention while he used the tools he had palmed to free himself from his restraints." Sadly, Hardin was not the talkative type and he lived out his life known only has Houdini's brother the one who tried and failed to be a magician. You can see many examples of this phenomenon on "America's Got Talent" or "American Idol." Watch as the magicians allow the illusions to just happen or not happen as they gesticulate wildly and silently.

Hence, the phrase "a magician who could talk" took on great meaning in our house. Dad always tried to teach me that it was important to be able to explain things as you were doing them because the very act of explanation would instill confidence in your viewers and/or listeners. And it wasn't just stage magic he was talking about it was just about any task for which you would be judged. If you have ever seen David Copperfield perform you will note he is a very verbally engaging person and the spectacular magic that occurs around him is so much more amazing because we, the audience whom he has befriended through his conversation with us, feel that we are part of the act. Illusion is accomplished largely through verbal diversion and the really great practitioners of the art are great conversationalists.

I have been thinking about this process as I have just finished reading photographer Annie Leibovitz's book "Annie Leibovitz at Work." In this quick read she explains how she does what she does and how her work has evolved. Ansel Adams did the same thing in "Ansel Adams The Making of 40 Photographs." Both of these legendary photographers allowed the reader to take a look at the mental processes that they employed while creating their art. Rhetoric as camouflage be damned, this is how we did it and you can do it too if your head is on straight. You just need to think about what you want to do and do it. After all.....art is magic too.

Oh, and there's a cautionary flag here. Hitler used rhetoric as camouflage as did George Bush, Richard Nixon, Jim Jones, Harold Hill (The Music Man), Charlie Manson and the Wizard of Oz.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Mr Berger,

Yesterday I had the good luck to sit at the table beside you at Love Lane Kitchen. Although I was pressed for time as I was meeting friends for a duck hunt on Down's Creek, I found myself quasi eaves dropping on the conversation you were having with your friends.
The fragment of your conversation I heard was about your blog and the piece about magicians. This morning I enjoyed reading that piece, and all of your other pieces as well.
When I was 12 years old I got a job at a magic shop in Terryville. The magician, a jovial man by the name of Ronjo, paid me with magic lessons. He spent nearly half his time teaching me about the "patter' of the tricks as he insisted it was equally as important as the physical trick itself. I studied the patter he had for each trick until I memorized them line by line. However, I soon realized it was the delivery that was far more important than the content. So I worked very hard on inflection, eye contact and posture. It was an amazing life lesson. Although I can still do a few tricks, the skill I seem to have retained more of is in detecting BS in people!
Anyway, I apologize for listening in to your luncheon conversation. However, you had me at "magician".

Regards,

Mark