Magicians cherish the old routines

Press, 20 October 1976, Page 21

Magicians cherish the old routines

A thousand practitioners of the ancient art of magic have been reviving their spirits in the pleasant seaside resort of Brighton: the occasion —

know they can’t believe what they are seeing, the more intrigued they are when they see it.” Ali Bongo, who has worked on television, and has advised theatres on such details as the ghost in “Blithe Spirit” and the tricks of Shakespearean clowns, points to what is happening in America. “In the middle of all that space technology you will find magic shows performing in every town. There is a fantastic magic boom.”

a convention of the International Brotherhood of Magicians. Professionals, semi-professionals, and amateurs in need of practice — the common denominator appears to be the possession of a goatee beard. There are Chinese Costume Acts, Close-up Acts (once called pocket work), Illusionists (defined as someone working with humans or large animals), Livestock Vanishers, Comic Men (including an Irish wizard whose incantation was “Abrah Begorrah”), and the sinister tribe of Mental Workers doing the Book Test, the Slates, and other demonstrations of the mind’s mastery over matter. There are fraternal delegates from far-flung climes. A chief’s son from Nigeria, calling himself Professor Peller, has spent about $BOO in the trade stalls on card tricks, coin drops, and other mysteries of white man’s magic with which to baffle audiences in West Africa. In British magic there is hope of a revival. The trade slumped with the post-war decline of music nail, hotel, and cabaret work. But television made it popular again, maintains Bernhard Juby, a Birmingham doctor who combines general practice with a s e m i-professional act which includes cutting his wife in half. “The fact that audiences are becoming more cynical, educated, and sophisticated is no reason why they are any less attracted by magic shows,” says Dr Juby. “The more they

Magicians in Brighton have been inspired by the fact that a German act named Siegfried and Roy (who turn a man into a cheetah and back again) is playing Las Vegas at a reported $85,000 a week. To judge from Brighton, British magic is still firmly in the grip of nostalgia. The organisers of the British Ring Shield Competition (an open contest for magicians judged on style, content, and presentation) lamented the lack of young entrants. Those there were seemed addicted to routines familiar in the days of Maskelyne, the great illusionist.

the artist of his It is also likely to endanger the fruitful corner enjoyed by a few equipment makers. Current list price for a “sawing in half cabinet — only one woman used”—is $560. The subject of Uri Geller was also sorrowfully discussed. He is considered to have let down the honest magicians by claiming powers which he does not possess. “I admire his techniques,” says Ali Bongo, “but his pretensions about his powers is anti-social.” The last thing magicians want to do is fool anyone.

Magicians have been upset by some recent mortifying breaches of security, with details of secret machinery appearing on television and in newspapers. This not only robs

Magic offers some sidelines, which provide the professionals with a subsidiary living until the promised revival comes. David Berglas, who is well known for his mental magic on television, has a company called ESP, which in this case stands for “Entertaining Sales Representations.” With the help of associates, he advises company sales forces on the best way to sell their products. Glaxo, Thom, Electric, and IBM are among the companies which have profited from his techniques. “Being a salesman is much the same as being a magician,” he explains. “We have to put something across to the public.”

(O.F.N.S. Copyright.)