magic is about honesty
everything here is true
except for the bits I made up
Thank you to everyone who attended our latest Magic & Martini at SpiritHouse in Downtown Toronto.
Our next performance is already sold out but we have performances scheduled through the end of November. Readers can use the code olive for a special discounted price on tickets when reserving online.
Here are some photos of the event courtesy of Tyler Sol Williams (who recently became an uncle, so may be referred to as "Uncle Tyler" here for the next little while.)
There is no cause for alarm, but as I'm sure you've all heard, the world is expected to end at some point today, Saturday, September 23, 2017. Because... you now... rogue planets and mysterious prophecies, planetary alignment and the number 33. It's a bit technical.
I don't have time to look into it in too much detail, but since as far as I know, every time someone predicts the apocalypse, it happens. So instead of rioting and looting, the most responsible course of action would be to quickly and calmly sell all of your worldly possessions and join us in celebrating life as we have known us at Magic & Martini.
Today only, to welcome the end times, we are offering a special promotion on tickets to the show. Use the code ENDOFTHEWORLD for a discount on tickets purchased online.
Tonight's show in Toronto only has a tiny handful of tickets remaining, but feel free to book for a future date. If you believe in an afterlife and have been well-behaved enough to get into it, our show will be live-streamed for you there.
(Needless to say, if the world fails to end as planned, there will be no refunds.)
One of my favourite books of all time is Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Adams created an inclusive and hilarious sci-fi universe which contained, among other things, a drink, the effects of which were:
“like having your brains smashed in by a slice of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick.”
It also provided the mixing instructions:
Which is, of course, quite impossible on earth. So someone came up with an alternative:
World's greatest detective... Practitioner of the mystic arts... Inventor of the computer... Genetically engineered super solder... Is there anything he can't do?
What is the correct way to respond when you see a piece of magic? I'm not sure I know the answer either.
Live magic performance sits among countless other forms of arts and entertainment, each one with it's own social accepted norms when it comes to showing appreciation. When watching a classical music concert, you wait until the end of the piece. At a sporting event, you react immediately, and loudly, when something exciting happens — you don't wait until the end of the period for cheering for a goal. In the middle of Macbeth, it would be rather strange to leap to your feet and applaud because Lady Macbeth did such a phenomenal job of conveying that she was going mad with grief.
Even within the same medium it's not so clear. It's ok to chat with your neighbour over the CNN anchor, but total focus is mandatory during the Game of Thrones season finale.
Rockstars generate tremendous reaction simply for showing, before they've even done anything (that night at least.) I've worked with many magicians who feel entitled to spontaneous adoring applause simply for walking out on stage before a crowd who has no idea who they are.
So what do when you see magic? I was struck by the question while watching reactions to a magic trick distilled through different cast members of The Big Bang Theory:
There's something in Sheldon's response we can all appreciate. Not knowings something is one thing. Nobody knows everything. Not knowing something that other people clearly know is frustrating. It makes you feel like an outsider.
But there is something else which comes up often. Apparently, it's rude to ask a magician how a trick is performed. And no one is quite sure why. I was performing a piece of magic impromptu last week for a small group. Someone asked how I did that, and another in the group chastised them quickly: "You're not supposed to ask that." And followed up with, "He won't tell you anyway."
If you asked your mechanic what he planned to do with your car and he said "you don't really need to know" or "not knowing is part of the fun" you would quickly seek a new mechanic. So why is it rude to ask a magician? I've always had a problem with this question.
Having spent most of my life in a teaching role, once as a martial arts instructor, a math tutor and now teaching children magic in hospitals, I think it's part of everyone's responsibility to society to encourage curiosity. "You don't need to know" or "you're better off not knowing" are simply bad answers.
I think it's important to remind people from time to time that it's perfectly alright to try really, really hard to figure out how piece of magic works. Curiosity is never a bad thing. But by not immediately satiating the curiosity, we allow that feeling to linger and be savoured. You'll fuss over the mystery of a magic trick far longer than you will over how your refrigerator works.
So try and figure it out.
It was a very busy day last night capped off with a wonderful audience at Magic & Martini in Downtown Toronto. The show took an unusual turn when my production manager and self-described "Button Monkey" Tyler Sol Williams, interrupted the show to announce he had become an uncle. (We already knew it was a boy, so no great surprises there.)
This then put me in the awkward position of having to compete with the miracle of life. But the show must go on.
Here are some photos from the show courtesy of Uncle Tyler:
We have just announced the performance dates through the end of November and tickets are now available. Readers can use the discount code olive for a special price on tickets when booking online.
