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There are many trends in the art of magic. They come and go like fashion and the latest craze. However, some trends tend to stick around and others are just alarming in general. When it comes to magical entertainment, the one trend I am noticing more and more is this idea that a magician thinking they can take any gig and any event even if they are not qualified for it.

Read more: Trends in Magic

 

The Explosive Encounter.


That's the first David Copperfield television special that I saw. And, this was a great time to get into David Copperfield, because The Explosive Encounter was really the first superstar special (continuing the transition that started with The Bermuda Triangle.) The show lived up to its name; the entire production exploded. The lighting was better. The music was better. The theater and theatre were better. This special, and the next few specials set the bar for my perception of magic—right when I was getting started.

Read more: David Copperfield

Modern Magic has evolved until now it may be classified into three major divisions with regard to its effect on the audience:

1--Effects which are accomplished by mere physical means. Tricks with cards, coins, handkerchiefs, etc. - things usually employed in a magical performance. In this division are effects which people believe they could do themselves if they could discover the "Modus Operandi." But you know, of course, that they seldom discover the clever magical principles. You have already learned many puzzling experiments which come under this division.

Read more: Divisions of Modern Magic by Harlan Tarbell

When I was very young, one of my favorite things to do was wait for the garbage truck to come collect the bags of trash that lined the curb. Driving the big truck didn't interest me much, but the man hanging off the back of the truck got my attention. He would swoop down, like he was having the time of his life, and use the inertia of the truck's movement to slingshot bag after bag behind his back directly into the compacter. It was like I got to see a little show once or twice a week. Looking back, he was something of an artist.

 

And so it is that art can appear in any human endeavor.


But, when the term "art" and "artist" are used, it's usually not trash collection that is being discussed. Generally, we're talking about the visual arts and the performing arts. More specifically, the major disciplines of drawing, painting, sculpture, photography, and film for the former, and music, dance, opera, circus, and theatre for the latter. Magicians like to think they are in that last group, right alongside Willie Shakespeare or Cirque du Soliel (their other shows, not that one), but the unfortunate truth of the matter is that when magic is mentioned in the context of art by non-magicians, it is nearly always mentioned as a minor or lesser art.

Whether you agree or disagree with this placement is immaterial; the general consensus is that magic is not really an art, but its inclusion is allowed as a lesser art form, so as not to offend.

Now, when magicians read something like this, we're naturally defensive, and we want to remind everyone of those we all revere as artists in the discipline of magic. I think of Tommy Wonder, David Copperfield, and René Lavand. Another might say Ricky Jay, Teller, or Cardini. Still others may think of Jacobus Bemelman, Seth Kotkin, and Héctor Lavandera.

To be sure, these people have elevated the form to art. But, let's think about this further. René Lavand is a poet; Cardini is in a one man play; David Copperfield embodies drama and dance; Ricky Jay delivers a theatrical monologue; Teller is an incredible mime; Tommy Wonder was Robert Houdin (which made him an actor playing the part of an actor playing the part of a magician.) And, they are all compelling storytellers.

For each of these performers, then, the artistic focus is equally on magic and a major art (e.g., dance, theatre, music), and occasionally the major art is the primary focus. Magic becomes theme; it coexists with the major art in a symbiotic relationship. Each is allowed to shape and enhance the other. We see magic as art in these performances because art would still remain without the magic.

Let's contrast this with the current ubiquity of the label "artist" among practitioners of the craft. Today, if you get booked to perform at any convention, you get the label. If you fashion tricks for other magicians, you get the label. If you do a difficult sleight really well, you get the label.

How many online magic shops, for that matter, refer to those who contribute effects as artists by default? When we look at the individual websites of magicians, how many refer to themselves as an artist? I don't blame any of them. There is no significant consequence for doing so, and it sounds nice, but would they be found on our selective lists of artists, or have they stapled the badge to themselves with self-referential claims and branding? One panders one; another strokes another, and so on. From the outside looking in, it starts to look like mutual masturbation.

Now seems like a good time to make the distinction between skill and art—a distinction that has nothing to do with one being "better" than the other. It is an incredible accomplishment to be skilled. It is an honor to be seen by others in the field as one of the most skilled in your area. If one can do a flawless anti-faro, a king cobra cut, or a six coin downs star, they have some undeniable skill. If one can create new magic and take the pulse of what magicians want to consume, that too is an incredible skill. But, if and only if they use that talent to communicate something beyond the skill, to construct an experience apart from it, where the whole transcends the parts, does he or she become a candidate for artist.

To not make this distinction, however, is harmful to the greater perception of magic externally. Heretofore, we have developed the habit of referring to someone with tremendous skill as an artist—to be complimentary, and not necessarily as a genuine appraisal of artistic content. That's understandable, but to refer to every magician with an audience as an artist is a slight to art.

I know many magicians who desperately want to believe they aim for art, but is this really true or are we bending the rules that we would usually apply outside of magic? Let's look at the standard approach for fashioning one's act; let's have a look at the marketplace. Which do you find more of—the raw materials for fashioning art or prepackaged presentations and routines, that is, "finished" art? Let's face it, we have a lot of birdhouse kits, karaoke tracks, and paint by numbers. (For the record, I'm actually a fan of paint by numbers, karaoke, and birds owning real estate.)

Don't get me wrong—I would be sad if magic books went away and new effects didn't appear. And contrary to what you might expect, I think it's OK to have prepackaged routines, standard presentations, and instruction manuals for practicing the craft because most practitioners of the craft aren't really aiming at anything above some good skill, a solid routine, an entertaining presentation, and a paycheck.

It is perfectly fine to have magic as an occupation to pay the bills, but let us then be more selective in our use of the terms "Art" and "Artist." Let us not disrespect the Ones who walk among us, by diluting the honorary title we give them. After all, there is nothing disparaging or derogatory with the terms "performer," "card mechanic," or simply "magician," though clearly we're getting tired of these labels because we keep insisting on calling ourselves something else. Allow me to fashion some examples: "deceptist," "artainer," "mysterist." (By the way, you may call yourself a mysterist, but no one is going to leave your show exclaiming, "That was the best mysterist I've ever seen!")

Many don't like being called a magician because of the associations it conjures. I understand this sentiment; I've been there myself. Now, I see two issues with this. Firstly, assuming your act is good, are you helping magic and magicians by distancing what you do from magic? How can you "elevate the art" when you don't even place yourself within the discipline? Secondly, I've seen a lot of terrible singers, but I have yet to see any aspiring vocalist insist on labeling themselves a "vocal chordist" or a "thoraxist" or a "pitch-n-tonalist" just to distance themselves from the crummy singers.

I digress.

 

Artist is a label best applied by others.


I don't blame someone for wanting to brand and promote themselves, but when performers infiltrate discussions on the "art of magic" with a view to bringing it back to how their performances exemplify art, it is like someone nominating themselves for The Modesty Award. I believe that "Artist" is a label best applied by others to you, instead of self-referentially. At least then it will have legitimate external meaning—however subjective.

Ultimately, art is mostly subjective. It exists when another says it exists. Consider this: if I label my work as art, it is immediately debatable and without validation. But if another labels what I do as art, that is subjectively indisputable. So it follows that we should be allowed to call everything art, right? And furthermore, why does it matter if magicians go around boosting the esteem of each other and crafting artist hats for each other to wear? Because that approach can only keep magic where it is in the public perception.*

I don't think we gain any artistic standing if we simply label all of our practitioners as artists and then demand to be seen as legitimate, highly-disciplined curators of an aesthetic. The more sacred the terms Art and Artist become to us, the more artistic recognition we stand to gain in the real world.

* * *

By the way, the garbage collector who worked on my street when I was a child wasn't an artist because of he made a difficult task look effortless. That's what made him incredibly skilled.

He moved through the world as if to say that joy could still be found in the thankless act of cleaning up the waste of those who ridicule people like him. That's why he was an Artist.


*The music industry has now started to refer to everyone as a recording artist, such that there is no difference between Prince and Ke$ha—both get the same label. But, music as a higher art form has been solidified, so this has less of an effect. Magic, in an attempt to elevate the perception of the practice, would do better to be more linguistically careful.

 

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