Jason Norman writes in the Suffolk (VA) News Herald of his first experience at a David Copperfield show. Like most of us, he found a decided difference in the Mr. Copperfield from television and the one appearing at Norfolk’s Chrysler Hall.
Over the past decade, I’ve watched David Copperfield walk through the Great Wall of China, make the Statue of Liberty vanish, and fly onstage. But on Sunday evening at Norfolk’s Chrysler Hall, I finally got to see him from a few feet away – and it was an experience that amazing, incredible, astonishing and shocking put together wouldn’t describe.
Despite Mr. Norman’s choice seats — a benefit of being a reporter — he found himself unable to discern the great magician’s methods.
Mr. Norman, we fear, has succumbed to Mr. Copperfield’s charismatic in-person powers. We never really cared for Mr. Copperfield when we’d see him on television. In the early days, back before flat-screens and HDTV or even cable, we viewed Mr. Copperfield as a precocious kid magician. To paraphrase Lloyd Benson, we knew television magicians, Doug Henning was a television magician, and Mr. Copperfield was no Doug Henning.
Sure, we liked the innovation and expense of the shows. But man-oh-man did we hate the smarmy close-up shots. It was too much. Just too much. Where Mr. Henning could charm through the lens of the camera, Mr. Copperfield tried too hard to charm. We really cared when Mr. Henning performed the Chinese Water Torture Cell. We knew how it worked and we even knew he likely practiced the effect once or twice before the live television show. Still, anything could happen and we didn’t want it to be bad. We liked Mr. Henning. When we saw him in person at The Magic Show in New York, we liked him even more. There was no incongruity between his on-stage and on-air persona.
So the tally: Mr. Henning – Good. Mr. Copperfield – Bad.
Then we saw Mr. Copperfield in person. We were in the top balcony of the Chicago Civic Opera House conveniently located in Chicago, Illinois. It had been raining all day, we don’t believe in umbrellas, we were soaked and miserable. Our seat was terrible. Someone in our immediate area smelled as if he or she smoked a very bad cigar through a wet tube sock. The culprit was likely not a “she” given the cigar and tube sock essences.
Mr. Copperfield’s show opened and we forgot all of the negative feelings towards him, the rain, lousy seats, and even the horrible smell. By this time, others had noticed the smell as well and were moving to seats on the other side of the balcony. Eventually I was alone with… Continue reading Copperfield’s Cult Captures Another
Tom Hardy the IV, known to his audiences world-wide as “Li’l Tom Hardy – America’s Foremost Psychic Entertainer,” began his climb up the show business ladder at the next to top rung.
He had the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth (which he would later bend in his evening show) and really wanted for nothing.
In fact, in his youth he would “borrow” other students’ wants – mostly from poor kids – just to have wants to offer should he be asked. While attending one of the premiers boarding schools in the Tri-State Area (Illinois, Indiana, Wisconsin (and Upper Peninsula of Michigan)), Catheter Academy, in Lake Forest, Illinois, he learned to manipulate his fellow students, chaperones and professors into doing what he wanted.
Some suggest this was the beginning of his mentalism studies and the development of his powers of suggestion. Others suggest this was the beginning of the end. (See, Around His Finger, The Middle One: A Study of ‘Li’l Tom Hardy’s Manipulative Manners and Methods, Dan Arpen (New York: Simon & Schuster 1975); But See, Anything You Say, Tommy: Li’l Tom Hardy’s Mesmeric Powers in an Era of Disobedience, Lynne “Squeaky” Sondheim (San Francisco: Red Man Books 1972)).
Regardless of the epoch, his powers of manipulation allowed him to steal not only his classmates’ meal and laundry funds, but also their psyche. He could take upon himself the needs they had. As he often noted, “they still had all of the wants and needs they had before I borrowed them. They were just annoyed because I was as apparently needy as they were — and I was getting what I wanted.”
Fortunately, said Hardy family biographer Ernst “Dee” Dell, “Li’l Tom Hardy was introduced to the world of alcohol at the conclusion of his high school studies. This robbed him of the ability to feign needs or the desire to steal the wants of others. He now had real needs and wants.”
Initially, Tom handled the hooch about as well as any of the Hardy women and a few of the men. Comparing it to the disputed “choice” over one’s lifestyle, Peter Williams wrote in his 1978 Esquire piece, “his parents were anxious that he show the same tolerance for the demon brew as the children of generations past. Thomas Hardy III and his wife were greatly upset to find, then, their son could not stomach even half a baby bottle of good Kentucky Bourbon.” (“Hardly a Hardy: Life and Bed-Sweating Nights of Li’l Tom Hardy,” Peter Williams, Esquire, November 1978 – Reprinted in Reader’s Digest as “Not Hardy: I Am Tom’s Liver,” Reader’s Digest, February 1979).
“There is no irony,” Tom wrote in his journal two days after graduation from Catheter. “Irony presumes there is something interesting enough to compare against one’s unreasonable expectations.”
Tom Hardy fought to remain independent of his famous, performing family. He eschewed all things of the stage, magic, or even entertainment. To avoid joining his father, Tom III, and his third stepmother, Betina, he tried to join the Army and hoped to be shipped to fight in… Continue reading The Making of a Modern Magician: L’il Tom Hardy in Text
Magician Noel Qualter was the first person that finalists from the hit UK show The Apprentice turned to provide entertainment as part of their final task. The UK version of The Apprentice is based on the successful US series by the same name, The Apprentice. We guess that goes without saying. Of course it has the same name if it is named after the US version.
Sir Alan Sugar is the Donald Trump of the British version of the show but unlike the name of the show, he has a different name than Donald Trump. Again, we demonstrate our ability to firmly grasp the obvious.
Sir Sugar is number 25 on the richest people in the UK. He also possesses the gruff kind of demeanor to make the show a number one hit in the UK. Finally, he is the only television star named after 1978 Funk Star, Sir Sugar Pops and the Cracker Jackers. (For trivia lovers, remember their only number one hit from June of 1978? The answer is at the end of this article.)
During the preceding 12 weeks candidates for the ?100,000 a year job have been eliminated with Sir Alan Sugar’s stinging words “You?re fired!” This week the final 2 have to organize a corporate event aboard a replica Mississippi paddle steamer.
The brown-nosing suck-ups knew how to keep their chances at keeping a job. They hired London magician Noel Qualter. The press describes him as a specialist in “close-up magic at high society banquets, corporate events and weddings.” He describes his approach as “cool magic just inches from your face. Kind of a cross between lap dancing and Paul Daniels — although best not to visualize that.”
It should be noted, by coincidence, the U.S. Senate has passed a bill making it illegal for any type of lap dancing involving people with the last name Daniels. This would thankfully include both Paul Daniels and Jeff Daniels. Some courts have already interpreted this to apply to sound alike names including Cute Weasels, Computer Manuals, and Springer Spaniels. A spokesperson the People for Ethical Treatment of Animals (“PETA”) praised the Senate for “finally realizing weasels, whether cute or not, do not belong on laps for any reason.”
Mr. Qualter is a mere 28 but has already gained the praise of his peers (he is a member of The Magic Circle) and party planners. He has been whisked to parties in New York, Monaco, Paris and Dubai. Basically, he’s a stud. His web page is one of the most efficient and effective sites we’ve seen for a working magician. It is also the first website we’ve seen credit a professional Search Engine Optimizer for assistance in design.
The answer to the trivia question: Penicillin (“I Just Wanna Be Your . . .”)
The Pittsburgh Live website carries a pithy but nice feature on magician Gregor Strucaly and his introduction to our art. But it also teaches us all a valuable lesson about being available for our brother or sister magician with a word of support.
The article begins with the blow-by-blow depiction of his transformation from serious to comedic magic.
In 1991, Mr. Strucaly contested for the top prize at the prestigious Magi-Fest in Columbus, Ohio. He planned to perform his version — a serious version — of the Rabbit from the Hat. The trick was to be done just like he had rehearsed it with the rabbit a week before.
The reporter picks up the action :< /p>
He displayed the empty top hat to the audience. He reached in for the fur ball and — presto!
But it didn’t come out. It was stuck.
“One leg falls out and starts kicking,” Strucaly said. “The audience roars with laughter. I turned the hat upside down and tried to shake him out. I was nervous as all heck, not knowing what the heck I’m going to do.”
With nothing else to do and a lump forming in his throat, he turned it into a comedy act — he rolled his eyes a few times.
He eventually got the rabbit out — after threatening to cook him.
Strucaly got enthusiastic cheers for the recovery.
“Other magicians came up and said, ‘How did you train your rabbit so well?’ I said, ‘We’ve been working on that for months.’”
Mr. Strucaly did not win that night. But he did learn to experiment with humor, and he did receive a meaningful word of support from one of his fellow magicians. “Ray Wozniak, a mentor from the International Brotherhood of Magicians chapter in Greensburg, saw in Strucaly a natural gift. Wozniak urged Strucaly to stick with the comedy.”
How important was Mr. Wozniak’s vote of confidence?
How often have we watched a fellow performer stretch a bit, and perhaps not fail but not succeed? We are all sufficiently well-trained in our art to criticize or admonish a brother or sister. Are we also competent in the very important human skills sufficient to build-up and support?
1913, a young man was trying his hand at picking locks as entertainment. By all accounts, he worked just as hard studying the locks and handcuffs each evening as he did at his day job in the garment factory. After studying, practicing, and developing his techniques, he decided it was time to try his act out on the road. He had some experience performing magic in front of audiences — in that way he was like Mr. Strucaly. He previously tried the professional ranks with his card manipulation act but found little reward. The handcuffs and lock picking would be a stretch for the young man — a move into a new arena of magic.
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