Serenading, Part 2

Okay, here are some examples of the Serenade style of performance I wrote about a couple of days ago.

I mentioned two primary orientations for performing in this manner.

  1. Close-up, but with a window between you and the audience.

  2. They’re outside, maybe on a porch or balcony, but they’re some distance away.

The first situation is pretty straightforward. You can just do any sort of close-up effect you might normally do in-the-hands, that doesn’t require physical interaction with the spectators. But you might as well take advantage of the situation and do something that’s not examinable. Those gimmicked decks or gimmicked packet tricks that can be very suspect in a regular performance work much better in this situation. I mean, people may still suspect there’s something fishy about them, but at the very least the fact that they can’t examine the object makes some sense. Whereas in real life it makes zero sense.

If the idea of doing gimmicked magic through a window sounds familiar, it may be because I recommended that sort of staging years ago in the post Youtube Magic in the Real World.

There’s an idea I mention in that post that I had forgotten about. You take a dry erase marker and make a circle on your side of the window. Then you display an object (a card, a coin, a pack of gum) outside of the circle, but when you move it inside the circle it changes in some way. If you had something that could change back and forth easily, here’s what I would do… Let’s say it’s a card. Outside the circle it’s an ace. When you move it in the circle it’s a Jack. Pull it back out it’s an ace. Put it back in, it’s a jack. Now, while it’s still in, you erase the circle from the window. And now the card is permanently a jack. As if you were opening some sort of portal and then you erased the portal leaving the card in its altered state.

When it comes to tricks to do at a distance, I prefer not to do tricks that were designed to be performed that way. What I mean is, I wouldn’t do a rope trick, because most rope tricks are perfectly well suited to be done from 20 feet away. I wouldn’t do a platform style trick. I want to do a close-up trick where the distance becomes an added element to be dealt with.

One trick I’ve done a few times is Gemini Twins. I will call the person and ask if I can stop by and show them a trick “from a distance.” I tell them to get a deck from their house and start mixing the cards and I’ll honk my horn when I’m there and they should come outside. When I arrive, they come outside with the deck and I walk them through the procedure. I have them spread through the cards while they’re facing me so I can “see what cards I’m drawn to.” I stay as far away as possible. I would guess at least 30 feet or so. I use the camera on my phone to zoom in so I can identify the indexes of the cards. I’m yelling. They’re fumbling. They may have to squat to deal the cards in a pile on the ground. Or they deal onto a bench or the hood of their car or any flat surface. Cards are sliding. Cards are blowing. It’s all a bit of a clusterfuck, but that’s what makes it so good. I’ve often done Gemini Twins without touching the deck myself in a normal close-up situation, but for some reason it seems to hit even harder when I’m so far away. There’s no logical reason it should, but it does.

For a mentalism sort of thing, what I’ve been doing is something like Wiki-test or Xeno. But I start the effect remotely. From my house. So they have a thought in their mind that I apparently couldn’t know. I concentrate, but fail. I ask them to go outside their house and I’ll go outside mine (to get a stronger mental signal). That fails. I tell them not to forget their thought and ask if I can come over. “I won’t come inside. I just need to be closer. I thought I might be able to do it from here, but I’m getting nothing.” I drive over. They come out. I’m standing as far away as I can without being in the road. I ask them to concentrate. I’m still getting nothing. “What the hell? Are you seriously even thinking about it?” I ask. I walk closer and closer. When I’m about 15 feet away it comes to me. As if I’ve finally entered into their “thought radius.” At this point I don’t struggle. I don’t go letter by letter or anything. It’s just obvious. “Oh, you’re thinking of fish. Tuna fish.” Or whatever.

I like this because it feels like how mentalism should work. It should be that there’s some distance at which you can perceive thoughts, and at a greater distance they’re out of reach. We tried something from our respective houses; that didn’t work. Then we both went outside; that didn’t work. We got closer and closer until finally I was able to pick up on the thought. That seems reasonable. It’s fun to try and make something feel both fantastical and logical. And it gets people thinking away from the actual method.

I think there are endless variations you could come up with of ways to play off the physical distance in your performances. When I first started doing this and I was performing for people on their balconies at my apartment complex, I would have them write the word they were thinking of on a piece of paper, fold it up into a small packet and then dangle it down at the end of piece of string or thread (one person hooked it on a fishing line) so I could get close to it but not close enough that I could touch. So here I’m “sensing” what’s written down (not reading their mind) supposedly. But I just need to get closer to the paper itself. The staging adds so much to the trick. Them leaning over the balcony, fishing the word down to me; me with a hand reaching towards the sky looking up at them, and then somehow divining the word that’s still suspended out of my grasp. The trick becomes tied to the staging, and the staging is tied to this moment in time. And that’s a structure you can use to make your magic stronger and more memorable in or out of a pandemic.

Introducing: Friends + Astronauts

giphy.gif

There was a time, in the 80s and 90s, when people used to get all excited for the premiere of a new video on MTV. It would be hyped for for a week and then, at like 10pm on a Wednesday, your sister would hijack the tv and make everyone watch the premiere of the new video off Duran Durans’s Seven and the Ragged Tiger album.

Sadly, many of you are too old or too young to have enjoyed this phenomena. But today I get to be your Martha Quinn and premiere a new magic venture.

tumblr_n44vkfOQDl1tooympo1_r1_400.gif

Supporter, Eric Hu has created a site with this stated goal:

“I got some friends to help with a simple project for a great cause, and this is it. We’re gonna teach magic tricks for free (all previously unpublished) in support of each other, the magic community, and COVID-19 relief efforts.”

The site is called Friends and Astronauts.

He’s releasing material in “collections” so a few ideas will go up at a time, stay there for a bit, and then he’ll remove them and put up the next collection. (At least, as of this writing that’s his plan.)

I was shocked to see that all the the contributors to the first collection of material were current or former Jerx supporters. The odds of that seem astronomical to me. Like when all the guests at a mysterious dinner party realize they all played a part in the tragic accident that disfigured that young boy 20 years ago. “We didn’t win a contest. We weren’t randomly sent these invitations. We were brought here for a reason.” It could be a coincidence. Or maybe it was done to entice me to mention the site. Well, it worked.

I won’t spoil the material—you can check it out on the site. It’s not the sort of stuff you see much here. It’s more quick, visual ideas that could be incorporated into some larger effects.

I don’t usually think too much in terms of multi-phase routines, but Ryan Plunkett offers a sleight where one ace turns into two, then three, then four progressively as it’s turned over. I think it could be cool to incorporate this as a finale to a Universal Card effect. Four people select cards which are then lost in the deck. A joker is introduced which becomes each persons card, one at a time. In the end, you secretly switch the normal joker for the set-up with the selections at a point when people believe the trick to be over. Then, as a last beat, the “joker” dissolves into the four selections as it’s turned over in the hands. It would take some work to come up with a handling that allows you to routine that all together, but I think it’s doable.

Check out the site for some other cool ideas. Support the performers and/or the charities mentioned. And keep an eye out for future collections.

Serenading

I wanted to thank you for the question-poem trick you posted last week. I’ve been doing a lot of zoom magic recently and this has been stronger than anything.

You’ve written a few times about video chat magic and using it for predictions. I was wondering what other types of effects you’ve been doing over zoom recently? —HL

Nothing. I have stopped doing magic over any video chat platform for the time being.

I realize I was one of the first people talking about this. And I do think it’s still a great outlet for performing magic if you don’t have anywhere else. But I wanted to push myself to find different ways to perform, even amidst the social distancing and all of that.

(I do have a couple video chat magic ideas that I’m working on at the moment. But, oddly enough, they’re actually going to only be of use once things get a little more back to normal. They’re designed to be used over webcam, but you need certain elements of normal social interaction to pull them off. So those will have to wait a few months.)

I was sort of inspired to quit the video chat thing by a friend of a friend, Paisley, who has been doing “pandemic portraits” on her instagram. That is, she’s doing portrait photography of people from a distance or through a window.

I started doing something similar but with magic, last month when people were a little more on edge than they are now.

It’s a performing construct I call Serenading.

Originally I was going around to my friend’s apartments in my complex and they’d come out on the balcony and I’d show them something from down below. It had a real Romeo and Juliet vibe to it. Or Say Anything.

Then I expanded beyond my apartment complex and I’d call up a friend and ask if I could stop by and show them something, and I’d drive over and show them a trick through the window or from a distance.

I’ve been talking about video chat magic for years now. It’s a great medium for magic because you can get away with a lot of things out of frame. But for me, the real power was the novelty of it. But now with everything taking place over video chat, the novelty is gone.

I’m devoting a section in the next book to the power of changing the circumstances and the setting of your performances. It’s very effective in creating memorable magic. Previously, showing someone a trick over video chat was a rarity, so it brought an element of uniqueness to the effect. Now it just sort of feels like a necessity. There’s very little charm to it when it’s a necessity. Doing magic through a window, or from the sidewalk to someone at their front door, or up to a balcony is a little more exciting to me at the moment.

So what do I do when I do my social distanced magic when I visit my friends? Well, I fuck around with a bunch of stuff. I don’t have one particular thing. It’s just a good excuse to connect with people I haven’t seen in a while.

Generally, I have two main modes. Either I’ll stand on the front lawn and they’ll be on the porch. Or if they have something like a bay window at the front of the house, I’ll walk up to that and show them something close-up, but through glass. I’ll give you some specific examples of the sort of stuff I do on Friday.

A Story With No End

I got a couple emails last week that were similar in tone. The first was about the PIcasso Pro app I mentioned last Thursday. I said I would probably get my own URL and forward it to the custom URL in the app, that way even if the actual URL for the effect was released, it couldn’t expose the effect if someone I performed it for ended up googling it.

The other email was about the 1900s cards I mentioned in last Friday’s post. I said that I wouldn’t use those cards as is because—while they look old—they feel brand new, which completely blows the illusion of an old deck if someone handles them.

Both emails I got suggested that I was worrying too much about these things. Not that the issues I mentioned weren’t potential issues. Yes, the URL for Picasso Pro might get exposed and therefore the trick might fall apart if someone googles it. And yes, the 1900s deck does feel new and if someone handled it they’d realize they’re not really old. But… so what? Their point was: Why go to a bunch of effort to plug every potential hole in an effect when the spectator’s already know they’re just tricks? Just be fun. Just be entertaining. It doesn’t matter if they realize the cards aren’t really old. Of if they find out the drawing website is part of a commercial magic effect. Magic is supposed to be entertainment. If they were entertained, you did your job.

I understand this point of view, but I disagree with it.

It often feels like there are two approaches to magic:

  1. Let’s make our magic as convincing as possible to get people to really believe in the power of the performer.

  2. Let’s make our magic as entertaining as possible and don’t worry too much about the more trivial details. They know it’s a trick anyway, so just make it an entertaining trick.

I don’t really agree with either of these approaches. I’m somewhere in the middle. Or off to the side. I believe you should try to make the most entertaining magic by attempting to generate conviction in something they know isn’t true. Now, that’s not a mindset that can really exist—at least not for long—but that’s the target I’m shooting for.

“But it’s just a trick. And they know it’s a trick.”

Yes. And a movie is just a movie, and you know it’s a movie. And yet… they will spend millions of dollars to create a believable special effect. Why? Why did Jurassic Park do all those CGI dinosaurs? Why not just use a puppet or a cut-out of a dinosaur from construction paper? They could have told the same story. People would have just had to use their imaginations more. And the producers would have saved a bunch of money.

Well, because they want it to feel as real as possible while you watch it.

If I pull out a deck and say it belonged to my grandfather and it looks really old and then you touch it and it’s as smooth and slippery as Joshua Jay’s bare white ass, then you’re being reminded of the fact this is just a prop, this is a fake story, this is a trick. But if I hand you the deck and it looks and feels and smells old, then you can still get lost in the story.

For a quick trick, I don’t get too worked up about things. But for a big, immersive effect—the Romantic Adventure style I’ve written about here—I have one overriding goal:

Don’t break the spell.

That’s the only way to get people truly caught up in an unbelievable premise.

Now, you might say, “Okay, I get that. While the trick is going on you should put all your effort into making it as pristine and fooling as possible. But who cares if afterwards they google something and realize that it’s just a trick you can buy? They’ve already experienced the trick and had fun and all of that.”

It’s a fair point. Watching a documentary on the making of Jurassic Park, doesn’t ruin the experience you had watching Jurassic Park. So why should a spectator googling a URL and having it lead them back to a magic website ruin the magic trick?

Well, because a movie begins and ends.

But a successful magic trick is a story with no end.

A magic trick is ongoing until the point where the spectator has an explanation that satisfies them. I’ve had people come up to me, 10 or 20 years after the fact, still amazed by something I showed them. For them, that trick is still going on. I mean that in the sense that they’re still living in the world where this thing happened and they have no clue how it happened. If, all those years later I say, “Oh yeah. I just switched the corner piece. So that restored card was a different card altogether.” That’s when the trick would be over for them because that’s the point where there’s no more mystery.

A movie exists on film. A novel is printed on the pages of a book. If everyone on earth died tomorrow, that movie or novel would still be there for an alien race to discover. A magic effect exists in someone’s mind. So the effect doesn’t end when the card is turned over. It goes on so long as their mind sees it as a magical experience. Once they have a satisfying explanation it’s over. And there’s no recapturing it. That’s why I strive to not let an effect be undermined even long after the machinations of the performance are over. The climax of a trick should be just the start of the magic.

The Jerx Cold Approach

Building off of an email in last Friday’s mailbag, I want to talk about cold approaching. While I would never walk up to a stranger on the street and offer to show them a trick, I would turn to a stranger in a cafe and show them something. Which is obviously similar in a way.

I wouldn’t say this is something I do a ton. That is, I don’t often do a completely cold approach. Usually I’ll engage in a conversation and do some “baiting” (as described in The JAMM #1). Or I’ll use a “hook” as I originally described in this post (and as will be expanded on in the next book). Those are both techniques to get them to initiate the effect.

But occasionally I will make a trick itself my initial interaction with someone.

Here is my big tip for that situation. Do not say, “Hey, do you want to see a magic trick?” or “Want to see something cool?” Instead say something like, “Could I get your help with something?”

I’ve mentioned this in the past to other magicians and sometimes their attitude suggested they didn’t like the idea. “Asking for their help rather than giving them the gift of a magical performance?" was kind of the gist of their response. Or, "I don’t want to ask for their help. That makes it sound like this is going to be burdensome. I want them to know it’s going to be fun.” I promise you, if you think this way, you lack an understanding of people. People are usually more than happy to help someone, even a stranger. On the other hand, being unexpectedly thrust into the role of “audience member” is not something people are generally super comfortable with.

Asking for “a little help with something” is a very non-threatening and disarming way to engage another person. Ask Ted Bundy. That’s how he would get hot co-eds to go off with him where he could murder and rape them. In that order.

It’s one thing if you’re going to go up to them with a camera to film something for youtube, then you can say, “Want to see a magic trick?” But that’s not the right approach for a more low-key initiation.

So I always frame it as them offering me help. And I keep up that attitude through the whole thing. I thank them at the end for their help. Ideally they’re thinking, “Why is he thanking me? That was awesome.”

Here are the ingredients to The Jerx Cold Approach, for use in cafes, lounges, bars, parks, libraries, trains, buses, planes, and other places you might be passing time around strangers.

  1. Ask if you can get their help with something.

    “Excuse me. Could I get your help with something?”

  2. Acknowledge any awkwardness and give a sentence of background.

    “I know this is a little unusual, but…

    …I have this magic trick I’m working on and I just need someone else’s eyes to tell me if this looks right.”

    or

    … I need an unbiased opinion on something I’m working on?”

    Or words to that effect.

  3. Mention some short timeframe.

    “It will just take a minute.”

  4. Show them something quick.

    Stick to your word and make it not take much more than a minute.

  5. Thank them for their help and pull back.

    Get your “help” and stop bothering them. This wasn’t an excuse to chat them up. If they want to continue the interaction they will come to you with a question or response to what happened. This happens almost always. Probably 95 times out of 100. (Assuming the trick was good and you’re not creepy.)

That’s it. Very simple. The idea is to ease people into the trick, but do it quickly.


And here are my “Dont’s” for cold approaching.

Don’t disturb people if they’re busy.

This should go without saying. If they’re studying or reading or have headphones on, let them be.

Don’t hesitate.

You are sitting there reading, writing, playing with cards, or whatever. You turn to the person and engage with them. Don’t sit there staring at them, thinking whether you’re really going to interact with them. Just get to it and ask. If they sense you’re stalking them, it’s going to creep them out.

Don’t say “mind reading” or “psychological experiment” or anything that might sound potentially invasive.

It’s just a “trick” or a “thing I’m working on.” Something like that. If, after the effect, there is a connection and you keep talking, you can feel free to paint a weirder picture for them. But initially you just want it to feel like it’s going to be quick and uncomplicated..


Compare these two situations.

  1. Someone turns to you and says, “Do you want to hear a monologue from a play?”

  2. Someone turns to you and says. “Can I get your help with something? I know this is a little odd, but I need to memorize this monologue for a play I’m trying out for. I think I’ve got it, but would you mind looking it over while I recite it to see if there’s anything I’m missing? It will just take a minute.”

If you don’t see that the second way—while still an unusual request—is a much more natural and gentle way to get into the interaction, then you may be beyond hope. Of course, if you want to be that blatant for whatever reason, go ahead. I’m not writing this post to change anyone’s mind if they think that’s a good way of doing it. I’m writing it for the people who see the flaw with the first approach but don’t know a better option. The people who write me and say, “How do you initiate a trick with someone when you don’t know them. Just say, ‘Hey, want to see a magic trick?’” No. I don’t do that. This post is what I do.

Sunday Horror

Here are a couple picks from the horror streaming service, Shudder that you might like. You can sign up for Shudder and get 7 days free, so you can check these out and bail if you want.

Movie: One Cut of the Dead

I’m not going to tell you anything about this. And to truly enjoy it, you shouldn’t read anything about it. Nor should you watch a trailer. Just fire it up and watch it. It’s not particularly scary, so if you’re a big puss, don’t worry about that. A couple things I’ll say about it, which don’t spoil anything are:

  1. The sort of person who is into magic is also likely to be the sort of person who will appreciate the layers to this movie and the way things are set up early and pay off later.

  2. Keep in mind when you watch it that the movie is 90 minutes long.

Show: Cursed Films

This is a five-part series looking at “cursed” horror films—films that have a number of unfortunate or tragic incidents connected with them. The series asks the question: Are these films cursed? The answer is no, they’re not, of course. They just had a lot of incompetent people who made bad choices involved in the production. So, okay, maybe you could say they were cursed. But not by Satan or something, just by morons.

The Juxe: Music for Writing

To be the most prolific writer on the subject of magic in the history of the art (check me on that), one must—unsurprisingly—spend a lot of time writing.

I like to write to music, but anything with lyrics distracts me. So here is what I listen to when writing. It varies depending on my mood and whether I’m writing for the site, the newsletter, the next book, emails, etc. But generally it’s going to fall into one of these categories.

Ratatat

This is my go-to. Sometimes chill, sometimes high-energy electronic rock. For deeper concentration I will usually put one song on repeat and just let it play for hours as I write.

ChilledCow stream

When I can handle the distraction of unfamiliar music, this is my favorite option. It’s a 24/7 stream of “lofi hip hop radio - beats to relax/study to.” It’s something that seems to work for a lot of people. As I write this now, there are 44,000 other people listening live at the same time.

Classical Piano

When it comes time to write a book, I usually lean towards classical piano music. It’s likely the most calming music for me, and working on a book is the most overwhelming thing I have to do, so that’s probably why. This video is one I’ve played a lot. Classical Piano Music for Brain Power. BRAIN POWER!!!!

giphy (2).gif

Monster Rally

When I’m in the mood for something different, I go with Monster Rally. This is “sample-based tropical pop.” Sort of a modern take on mid-century lounge music.