More Random Pictures

Gah.

I didn't get anyone to take pictures for Casino. Ah well. The blog's filling up with a lot of words again... so I pulled up my pictures from that one performance that I had before. This picture is from the same time and place as the other one.

I am obviously... reading her mind. Yep.

And... this one makes me scared, nervous, and exhilarated all over again.

Casino!

Casino is an annual charity fund raising event at Amherst College. Volunteers and organizers transform our dining hall into a casino. With professional black jack and poker tables, steadily spinning roulette wheels, and a semi-formal dress code, Valentine Hall is transformed into a believable corridor straight out of an Atlantic City casino.

Yeah - it doesn't quite live up to the Vegas standards, but... for a college campus dining hall, I'd say they did a pretty good job.

Anyway, for the even took place from 10:00pm to 1:00am Saturday night. It was Casino's 40th Anniversary, so they had maxed out on their resources; organizers had fenced off a 21 and over champagne section upstairs, set up a dance with the school's most popular jazz band, and added a high-stakes raffle. There was a car (I'm hopeless with cars... all I can say is that it was blue and chubby), a plasma tv, iPods, and several other possibilities for raffle winners.

And... they, of course, hired a magician.
Ok. Maybe not. It was a charity event... so, more like, the magician volunteered.

I was going to perform, take random breaks, look around, and join in the underaged gambling fun. However, as I performed by the entrance to the event, a river of people flowed by me. Faces came, stayed for a length of time, and left... only to be replaced by new faces. Because I could watch these faces change, I knew when I could repeat effects. The night was similar to a table hopping gig. The difference? I stayed still, and the guests hopped from table to table.

I talked nonstop for nearly three hours, performing old effects, trying out a few new ones, and swallowing a stutter when the college's President stopped by to see something.

By the time 12:30am came around, my throat screamed out form water. I finally looked at the clock and found that two and a half hours of passed, and I hadn't noticed. I decided to give myself a water, cheese, and cookie break... look around... then performed for the last fifteen minutes.

Those last fifteen minutes, I believe, started out as the worse few minutes of that night. I could perform my effects fine, but I was beginning to stutter. Words that my tongue had previously naturally formed - words that rote memory had instilled into my routine - tripped and fell over themselves. My throat bothered me... and I took constant gulps of water. I didn't want to end my performance on a bad note, though, so I turned to silence.

I've performed in silence before. Silence fits my style, and silence fits the atmosphere that I want to create. Key moments of silence - change in tones - and other things... those seem to be the best choices. But, what if I channel Amherst's magician graduate... what if I channel Teller and perform entirely in silence?

That night, I ended with effects that were visual enough to ignore verbal cues. I remembered that I had fellow magician Eric Sias' favorite toy. I've used them in practice before, occasionally in private friendly performances, but never for the public (other than that one time as Joan of Arc). But they were the perfect silent tools... and, so, the deck became haunted, the glasses flipped up, and the bottles tipped over.

It was... fun.

And that's all I have to say. Thought I'd share. Once Spring Break starts, I'll post some more... philosophical stuff. Right now, though, I just wanted to share my fun. Maybe, in the midst of this sharing, someone would be able to find my lost voice for me.

Magic as Theater

I am standing in the middle of a red room, surrounded on three sides by chairs and college-aged students. I can see them if I look, but I don't. There's no reason to; I'm not talking to them.

I am, instead, talking to Reigner. He's the intruder, trying to fool me into thinking that he's the King. I laugh at him and raise my torch up into the air.

"Reigner, is it thou that thinkest to beguile me?"

Before he can say my name, I look around and I find him. My torch transforms into a rose the moment the light reaches the King's face. King Charles. The Dauphin. I bow my head. He calls me Joan. I smile, but he doesn't trust me. He won't trust me unless I prove myself in combat.

I pull out my weapon - a red silk, stained with the blood of the English. I wave it and a long black cane appears. I point it at the Dauphin's neck.

"I am prepared; here is my keen-edged sword."

He believes me now. As I go on with a metaphor to describe glory and the wheel of fortune for the bloody Brits, I spread my hand around a bottle. It vibrates... shakes in place until, finally, it falls over. Water spills out onto the table. I look up, completely still, as I say my final lines.

It was 10:00am on a Tuesday morning. For fifteen minutes, I played the French Joan of Arc.

--

For my Shakespeare class, my professor assigned me the task of acting out a scene from a play. Directed by a TA familiar with the theater arts, I was assigned the role of Joan of Arc in the play Henry VI, Part I.

As illustrated in the scene above, I inserted various magical moments into the scene. But the most educational part of this experience came in the acting instruction. I noticed that, when I perform, I have the tendency to step back or move my feet immediately after the climax of an act. The importance of silence in that "moment of astonishment" has long been hammered into my head.

We've all heard that magical mantra - Silence is Power.
This experience taught me something else: Stillness is Power.

It's the hardest thing in the world, to stand completely still when the adrenaline and rush of a successful effect runs through your veins. When your spectator jumps around, it's impossible not to want to jump as well. When you're nervous, it's impossible not to want to riffle the deck, spin a card, or shift your weight from side to side.

But... it's powerful if you can pull it off. I've learned to channel all my nervousness into my toes. I curl them and wiggle them under cover of my shoes... while I keep my legs still and my fingers calm. It takes a great deal of self control to conquer old habits. It takes a great deal of self control to keep that card still after a successful Ambitious Card Routine, when all you really want to do is spin that thing between your fingers.

Stillness aside, I've also heard an interesting statement: "When you're on stage, you want to speak very slowly. If it feels to you as though you're speaking at a normal pace, you're talking too fast."

Is this true in magic? I feel as though my normal talking pace is fine in close-up/walkaround situations. I also know that I talk too fast (according to my parents, at least). So I do slow down when I perform. But should I slow down that much more on stage? I wonder if anyone with any experience on stage knows how to answer that?

Then there's blocking. In theater, every line and every beat is matched with an action. Every character on stage, whether or not he or she is in the spotlight, knows exactly what to do and when to do it. They move across the stage, fall down on one knee, tighten jaw, close eyes, hug XX... etc, etc. You know what I mean. Every movement is planned out.

In stage magic, would this be the same? From a magic seminar that I was involved in this past summer, I remember Tyas Frantz saying that each stage show should have certain photogenic moments, that magicians should plan out certain visuals for the spectators.

Magicians often bloc for better angles. They bloc to make certain effects work.
But how often do they bloc... just to make something look pretty?

Aesthetics aren't worthless.
As technical magicians, we don't need aesthetics. But as magicians, performers, and artists, aesthetics are everything.

They help make magic beautiful.

And, if we can learn all this from the theater, what else does acting have to offer magic?

It's been a while...

It's been a while.

Two months, actually. Two months since I've last posted here. But no, it hasn't been two months of inactivity. It's been two months of busy schoolwork, followed by a period where I was slightly discouraged by the lack of traffic and the lack of response on this blog.

I don't really know what I was expecting back then. The idea of blogging was exciting, at first. The idea that someone out there could - and, perhaps, would - constantly read what I was writing... that was exhilarating. I remember reading through books on magic theory and jotting down thoughts, treating magic theory as an academic treats any other kind of theory. There was this excitement that came with doing something new.

But now, I realize that it was just December.

December's an interesting month. December's the end of a year... the start of a new one. It's when people make resolutions they know they're going to break. It's when people gather with friends and family, some of whom they really don't want to see.

And, for me at least, it's winter break.

New things always happen at that time of year. I tend to pick up new hobbies or embellish on older ones. I tend to learn magic. I tend to start stories. I tend to start blogs.

And then, as time passes by, I tend to... stop. It's never been hard for me to start stuff. It's always been hard to follow through. But now, sitting in bed with my laptop in front of me... I think I've finally learned something. It doesn't matter whether or not anyone's reading this.

All that matters is that I'm writing here.

The ideas here are enough. I can read this, and I can talk to myself. My fingers, tapping away at the keyboard, can tell me more about what's in my head than what a silent room can do. And, so, I write.

Yeah, maybe I'm writing for you. Maybe I'm writing for someone else in another part of the country. Maybe I'm writing for other magicians. Maybe I'm writing in the name of magic and in the name of theory. Maybe I could gather all my posts together sometime far in the future and make myself a book. I could hope that I do that, and I would be happy if I did.

But really, it doesn't matter. In the end, I'm just writing for me.

So here I am. Writing. Again.

A Picture! Cuz Pictures are Fun!

You know what bothers me?

All these words. Everytime I check this place, it's covered with words. So... I added that picture of cards on the top right. I don't really know what it means or symbolizes, but it's pretty.

So there.

But, still, it's on the dull side. So I thought I'd look through some not-so-old-yet-not-so-recent pictures I have. Keeping in mind that I perform primarily walkaround and close-up, I have performed in a couple of stage/parlour venues. But stage stuff tends to require either effects that require no props at all - or effects that require huge props.

With cost in mind, I've turned to mentalism. And, through it, I've learned a lot about presentation. Anyway, I was performing on campus for fellow students, their parents, and their siblings (it was Family Weekend). It was a charity thing... where all proceeds go to the local high school library.

Yeah. I still can't seem to gather the guts to ask people to pay me for shows. And... well... this was for charity.

Anyway - mentalism. Looking back, I performed decently... throwing in a few new effects. I didn't really like my routine, though, and I think I scripted too heavily for me to perform as naturally and comfortably as I should. I think... being on stage pulls me a bit out of my comfort level.

I'm not going to post all my pictures, but I wanted to post one. Because the photographer caught me totally off guard here - at a time when I was having the most fun.


This is me performing Luke Jermay's Dangerous Opener. I found a cardboard box, covered it with an old black t-shirt to make it pretty, and pushed a knife through it. The knife is stabilized with a big textbook beneath the box and covered with the red cup. A spectator named a cup for me to destroy... and I smashed it.

I admit I was nervous performing it for the first time...
But, man, it was fun.

So... yeah, I thought I'd show you that. A picture of me, caught in a moment of... personal astonishment and joy.

What can I say? I like smashing things.

Magic Pockets

Back when DOS was still popular, I played this two-dimensional game that involved a kid with an entire world inside his pockets. He lost his skates (or something)... so he dove into his pockets, and thereby forever wandered around in this new world... without his pants.

Ok. An interesting image... but not funny. Still, he did wander around this new world, defending himself from little slimey monsters with the inexhaustible supply of fruit that he had. Essentially, he had every magicians' dreams - bottomless pockets.

I remember envying guys for the HUGE pockets that they have in their cargo pants. Even their jeans pockets seemed bigger than mine. And, in professional wear, guys' suits have all these hidden pockets everywhere. On the other hand, you'd rarely find a pocket in a dress or even in "woman's suits." Sure, we have purses... but purses are a hassle to carry around. And, if you watch fashion trends, you'll notice that purses are getting smaller and smaller.

Regardless of the fashion faux pas, I used to walk around with lumpy pockets - filled with cards and everything else. I used to wear jackets and sweaters just for the extra pockets, somewhat glad that it's always cold where I live. But, lately, my pockets are emptying. Instead of carrying six decks of cards with me everywhere, I'm only carrying one.

Sometimes, I don't even have a deck of cards on me.

Does this mean I'm getting lazy? I don't know because I'm still definitely prepared to perform. I always have coins on me, there's always a spare pen lying around, there's always paper... and, in the end, I always have my hands. I always have my words.

Is my focus shifting from close-up card magic to mentalism? I don't think so. Card magic is still my forte, and I always bring them when I plan to perform. When I plan actively to go out and perform, I have at least a deck of cards with me - if not more. But when I don't plan to perform - when someone wants to see something and I don't have cards on me - I still do something (if the magic bug calls). I would twist my arm, go through a pen and pen cap routine, play with a coin, or... if the mood strikes... get a piece of paper for some mentalism.

And yet.. if I had the choice and the deck in my pockets, I would still use them.

I'd like to think that this means I'm transforming from someone who's always prepared to perform - someone who strives to appear like a magician - to someone who can just perform spontaneously. Maybe it's a step forward. Maybe it's a phase.

And I wonder... am I the only one who's experiencing this? Is this a sign of a plateau - a pause - in my magic education? Or have others gone through this as well? Are others going through it?
Any thoughts?

This is My Letter to the World

This is my first post - my first attempt at a blog - and, thus, I will begin with a little bit about myself. First, as the title tells you...

I am an amateur magician.

I have been learning and performing since 2002. I have considered myself a magician for six years now. And, still, I consider myself to be an amateur magician. This label that I've put on myself doesn't mean that I haven't learnt anything in six years. It doesn't mean that I don't consider my art seriously.

It simply means that I recognize how short six years really is. It means that, when I look around at the world of magicians hidden in the depths of the internet - when I look at all these people and all the things that I have yet to learn - I know that I still have a long way to go.

Why, then, is a nineteen-year-old amateur magician starting her own blog? What sage advice can she give? Is she going to come up with new effects? New routines? Is she going to offer product reviews when there are already plenty of those around - when there are probably hundreds of others out there from magicians with more experience?

It's a possibility. But probably not. Probably not for a long time.

Then maybe reading all that was just a waste of your time.

Then again, maybe it's time we look at magic from a different perspective. I'm not sure what exactly I have to offer here, but I figured my thoughts are a good place to start. I figured my experiences as a magician and a person, riddled with the mistakes and luck of a beginner and a young adult (wow, I'm almost 20)... I figured that all this might help some people look at magic in a different way.

And, along the way, I know that I'll learn something. More than a simple "me writing down my thoughts," I know that you and others like you will show me their way of walking and dancing. I know that you'll dig a path for me to follow, as will others. I know that I'll look at them - probably admire them with an open mouth and a certain kind of awe - and then come up with my own way to walk and dance. I'll explore your roads and find another road for myself.

It's my fault that I've stayed away from the online magical community for so long. The intricacies of the internet and forums and cafes... they've always eluded me. They still do. I don't know much about the politics of magicians, and I don't care much about them.

But I do want to step out from the bubble where I live. I want to poke my head out of this fog, so that I can see, at last, this wide world that lies before me. I want to speak with other magicians. I want to meet other magicians.

So, with that, I would like to take this time to say hello.

Hi.
My name is Felice.
I'm glad we're meeting at last.