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The Actor Magician Essays Louis C. Haley
The Actor Magician Essays Louis C. Haley
The Actor Magician Essays Louis C. Haley
By Louis C. Haley
Extracted from his book "The Dramatic Art of Magic"
Note by Marko: We have all heard and read the famous phrase that
says that "the magician is an actor playing the part of a magician."
Most of the time the people that repeat this quote don't make any effort
to explain just what they mean by it, as if their intentional meaning is
something that we all must tacitly understand. One of the few guys that
has tried to shed light (and a lot of it!) over what he meant when he
wrote "magician" and "actor" in the same phrase was Louis C. Haley,
an--let's say--obscure magician who wrote the essays you are about to
read in an equally obscure magical periodical and later, in 1910,
included them in a book he wrote and published.
Even though these essays were written so long ago, I think that, if read
with an open mind, they are as pertinent today as the day they
originally came from their author's pen. I hope you enjoy them and
also that they might make you think a little bit about our art: Magic.
Introduction
The following essays upon the Actor Magician originally appeared, in
serial form, in Edwards Monthly, a magician's magazine of tricks,
magic and illusions, published at Buffalo, N. Y., in the interest of
American Magicians. These articles received flattering comment from
professional magicians, who have styled the author, "the preacher in
the pulpit on the subject of the art of magic." They proved such a
stimulus to good magic that a movement has been started among
magicians in this country looking to a betterment of the art as practised
by the profession and a betterment of the magician's profession itself.
First
As Aristos says: "Magic is an art that sometimes instructs, often
amuses, and always entertains." But magic, like every art, should have
its ideal, and to uphold and develop that ideal will call for sacrifices on
the part of its disciples. By that, I mean that if the ideal demands that
he refuse to instruct, to amuse or even to entertain his audience, the
magician should be true to his art. How many times have I seen the
"modern magician" filling up his time with bald tricks and "gag-patter"
sacrificing his art for the purpose of creating a laugh and getting his
share of "hand" to be a top-liner, as the box office wants him to be. No
doubt the manager is a hard proposition, for the wonder-worker must
eat, and he gets his hand-out at the managerial lunch counter.
Robert Mantell says there is no place for the old, fine actor of drama in
the drama today, May we not have the magician-actor? I plead with my
brothers for his appearance, development, and perpetuation.
Second
In consonance with, and in continuation of this line of thought I want
to urge a reformation in the character of the lines used in the
experiments of the magician of today. I would like to see the word
tricks cut out of our magic nomenclature; for, one who does tricks is a
trickster, and that term is as belittling to a magician as to call him a
fakir. He is neither trickster nor fakir; rather an educated gentleman--an
artist, presenting as a magician some of the occult wonders of
Psychology and the natural sciences. The word "patter" too, always
strikes me as if it might be associated with "parrot." Patter has no
purpose but to interest the novice, who likes to read and dream of what
others have done, and what he might do.
What odds does it make if the world is more or less acquainted with
our methods? We are playing a part, anyway. The world knows that any
actor's part is an assumed character. The Magician's part is assumed,
and if you are not willing to play the part as seriously as the tragedian
plays his, our magic art is suffering a terrible injustice at your hands.
As an actor playing the part of the Magician, you have no more right to
pull up your sleeves than you have to pull up your trousers or to turn
your pockets inside out, than the actor playing his part (unless perhaps,
he is a married man), nor to show your palm front and back than to
show the front and back of your head. Never again will I do those
things.
If the audience suspects certain things, well and good, let the suspicion
rest as such; what of it? If I turned my head inside out it would make
the audience suspect me more, for my unnecessary, uncalled for
movements are the basis of the suspicion. They shall see my Magic
Drama and draw their own conclusions, none of which I shall
knowingly suggest. I think we might well learn something from the
Oriental Fakir's dumb-foolery, in burning incense and beating drums.
He is dramatic in his own poor way and he does it. His audience is
afraid of him; therefore he gets the respect due him. Indeed, in a show
of my own, I should adopt the incense and all the dramatic expressions
and accessories of the stage; my assistants would be there to respect
and fear me in my play (outside, of course, it would be different).
Third
The trouble with most of us is that we have no ideal; or, if we do have
one, we fail to cherish it. Perhaps it may be that we do faithfully strive
after it; and then think in our progress that we have attained our
ambition--and our ideal is a reality. Carlyle says: "The greatest of faults
is to be conscious of none." Let no one, be he a magician or otherwise,
no matter how high up on the ladder of fame or how great a degree of
perfection may be his, think he has attained the zenith; for as soon as
he begins to think thus, as soon as his ideal begins to assume a reality,
just so soon it ceases to be an ideal. No matter who you are, your plane
of existence; your business; your profession; how proficient you are
therein: if you would not retrograde, you must have always before you,
the one thing--your ideal.
We are all bread winners and the same experience falls to the lot of all.
But let us, in spite of the world's plans for us, stick to our invisible and
congenial companion--our ideal. My present ideal is to mystify
magicians. If I can get them guessing I am happy. A few years ago we
had a society called, humorously but not complimentary, The
Legedermaniacs. I always enjoyed the meetings, because the incentive
to fool the boys kept me there.
Whether or not we ever reach the Parnassus of our ambition is not the
point. Let it rather be this: Always strive to be greater than we are.
Struggle is the law of existence. The infant kicks; if not, there is no life.
It cannot exist without movement; for all life and growth is manifest
through motion. Houdini, shackled, dives into the Seine and amazes
the multitude as he courts death and eludes his grasp. His ideal leads
him to do it. Have a high ideal that will lift you up and make the world
better for your having lived in it.
Fourth
What should be the magician's ideal? This is a question, not only for
those of whom the public expects great things, but for all of us--every
one, be he great or small. First of all: His equipment should be of the
best. No workman can do a perfect piece of work with poor tools--
neither can the magician, magician though he be. Every bit of invisible
apparatus should be so perfectly constructed as to be absolutely
reliable, and it should be up to date, with all the improvements that the
mind of man has been able to store up in it. Every bit of visible
apparatus, stage setting and accoutrement, should be the best that can
be had. For the magician impresses his audience, in a large degree,
through the sense of sight, and if his dress, apparatus and stage
furniture is beautiful, it proves to them silently that the magician is
unlimited in his power and resources--the very thing a magician should
be.
By moves I do not mean the front and back palm, or the pass, that can
be made so many times a minute. The magician makes a serious error
when he exhibits speed, for the reason that he has power to do these
things slowly and deliberately because he is a magician. When you flip
a card or coin from front to back of palm continuously (invisible
though it be), you have ceased to be a magician and become a juggler.
We have gone too far in the palm and pass business. You should
practice the "moves" of your experiments every day of your life (and
many times each day), till you can do them as the artist pianist plays--
his fingers and hands seem to think for him.
If you do not use your mind as an actor to portray the character of the
magician to your auditor, you have failed to come up to the
requirements of your art. The magician should be as accomplished an
actor as it is possible for him to be. Even the talent of a Richard
Mansfield or an E. H. Sothern can be used in the magician. If you are a
"poor talker," better go to the Orient to exhibit your dumb show. If you
can't handle yourself properly, attend some School of Acting.
One may have the best of apparatus, stage settings, high acquirements
of prestidigation, and then fail because of the lack of the actor's art and
the psychological understanding necessary to portray the magician.
Remember your purpose is to portray, portray, portray a character.
Your apparatus, stage setting, digital training, is only a vehicle that
you, as an actor, use in portraying the character of the magician. The
end of your work is to create before your audience the magician. Only
then can the time, labor and money put into your show bring you
nearer the pedestal--the great magician. Finally, in order to preserve
your ideal you must never think that your apparatus, technique and
acting is perfect; for in this growing world of ideals nothing is static.
When progress ceases, then comes retrogression, decay, and death.
Fifth
There are but two sense avenues, generally speaking, by which the
actor impresses his audience--namely: seeing and hearing. The
magician sometimes uses the other three: feeling, tasting and smelling,
but only to a slight degree. Kellar, in the wine and water change, causes
a pungent odor to penetrate the auditorium as a dramatic aid in the
transformation.
So, in the main, the magician's plan of work is identical with that of the
actor in any role. However much he may claim to have the power over
matter, his real field of operation is the power of mind over mind--the
psychological. If the actor does not put his whole mind with an
intensity of purpose into his role, the mind of the audience, as they see
him move and hear him speak, cannot conceive of the part.
There is no magic about this business. The conception that the mind of
the audience will get of your character will be absolutely and only
commensurate with the mind that you put in your part. Any actor's role
is as big a fake as that of the magician, and yet how profoundly does he
move his audience! Why is it? Because of his intensity of purpose as he
thinks his part. His movements, facial expression, dress and all other
dramatic aids are material things and mean little or nothing without his
spirit to use them.
When a tragedian commits murder, he does not pass the knife out for
examination as a preliminary test of his genuineness, but goes at his
job as if there was no question about it; nor is there, if he wants to
portray a real murder. If there is no intensity of purpose, there can be
no intensity of result. The actor stirs the hearts and passions of men
from the center to the circumference. The magician who deals with the
marvelous should stir their intellects in all depths and experiences.
The tragedian deals with the whole range of life and death. The
magician, who causes human beings to appear, change and vanish, also
deals with life and death. If the tragedians' art calls for an intensity of
purpose in stirring the hearts and passions that are common to us all in
our experiences; how much more must the magician strive in things
that are uncommon to our hearts and minds! In presenting to men's
minds, those things that transcend human experience, how dramatic
indeed he must be!
In the study of psychology we are just beginning to find out that the
mind is the greatest force in the world; for it is that, which rules. The
magician must be dramatic above his brother actors; and the marvelous
must be intensely dramatic, or it will cease to be the marvelous. The
work of the magician is more exacting than that of the tragedian and
therefore his purpose should be the more intense. In all that I have said,
I want to emphasize this one thing: the intensity of mental effort the
magician must put forth in his work. If you do not perfectly convey a
mental conviction, in every effect that you show, then you have failed,
utterly. You may have fooled the audience, but they do not believe you
to be a magician.
To annihilate or vanish a human being by a pistol-shot is a stupendous
conception, and an illusion of such character demands the greatest
dramatic intensity. The pistol-shot is not enough to amount for such a
transcendent effect. I would have the stage flooded with a weird,
greenish light, electric in character, after the manner of the Aurora
tube, with a special stage setting for the illusion. I would have the
audience remain perfectly quiet as I should speak the word. At the shot,
I should have the vanishing lady give a terrific scream, and, at the same
time a roll of thunder would reverberate through the house while the air
would be heavy with a strange odor.
Add to all this the dramatic technique, an intense mental attitude on the
part of the magician, and your audience will be hypnotized, by the
cumulative suggestions, into the belief that what they saw was real. As
their minds sit in judgment on the senses, so the mind that presents the
illusion must convince the mind of the auditor. It is not so much what
you do, and how you do it; but rather what you think in the doing. The
mental status is the cap sheaf in the actor's part.
Sixth
(Note:--The terms Law of Suggestion, Auto-Suggestion,
Subjective Mind, and Objective Mind are used without an
academical explanation of their meaning, for the reason
that they need to he fully and explicitly explained, but this
is not the place nor the time for such explanation.
Hudson's Law of Psychic Phenomena is an admirable
exposition in this fascinating field of recent discovery and
exploitation, to which the reader is urgently referred. The
book, with Hudson's other works upon the same line, is
procurable of the general book trade and is also found at
any public library.)
How does the trainer subjugate the tiger? First, by letting the animal
see that his trainer has confidence. The dumb brute can tell by a look or
the slightest move whether the trainer believes in himself. If the dumb
brute can read the trainer's mind, how much more ought the actor fear
the judgment of the audience as he looks into the sea of faces. The
trainer's part is assumed, as is that of the actor. If you do not think you
are a lion tamer; you will be a meal for the animal, and if you do not
think you are the character you are assuming, the audience will see
through your bluff quicker than the animal does through the weakness
of the would-be tamer. Do not forget that.
How is the one to acquire the ability to think himself another person?
In the language of the hypnotist, the answer is: By Auto-suggestion.
The actor must by all the strength of his mind suggest to himself,
constantly and persistently, that he is the character he is portraying. He
must strive for the hypnotic state, where the unreal is the real and the
real is the unreal.
The psychologists tell us that our Subjective Mind, that mind which
takes care of our living organism and preserves it, is the eternal entity
within us, and our Subjective Mind, or the mind of the senses, is the
means whereby we come into conscious contact with the physical
universe. Our subjective mind feeds on the world and appropriates
what we need therefrom; our subjective mind is the motive power of
our being. Our brain is the wax cylinder that records all that we acquire
while the subjective mind is the operating power in our machine--the
body.
The subjective mind is the seat of our imagination and all the ethereal
elements of our being. The pianist, sinker, painter, sculptor, poet,
worshipper of God, and the actor--all these especially are awake to the
inner subjective realities. In the hypnotized subject we see the objective
mind completely suppressed, and the subjective mind rise above the
threshold of consciousness and hold absolute sway. And see how
perfectly it does its work! How perfectly the subject conceives his part,
and with what astonishing, consummate skill does he act that part! The
actor must be in this subjective mood if he ever expects to play his part,
for stageland is the unreal, hypnotic land of the actor. Our subjective
mind is the power within us and is able to do all things perfectly.
Why does the actor not use it? Because the actor in these days does not
take his art seriously as in the old days of high dramatic art. Even if he
did, there would be little opportunity to display a perfect piece of
acting, for the reason that the country has gone mad over musical
comedy, vaudeville and moving pictures. The magician, too, has been
carried off his feet in the surge of popular desire, and now thinks he
must be cheap and funny. Well, he is--but his art weeps.
The organ of belief is the Subjective Mind, not the Objective Mind.
The Objective Mind of the five senses, seated in the brain, is simply the
organ to deliver the goods to the depths of our being, therefore our
belief is deeply seated. Nay, it must be so, otherwise, on the surface of
our consciousness, it will be only a sense-perception. The audience
gets your act through sense-perceptions apprehended by the brain; but
it believes you are a magician unconsciously, so to speak, by its
Subjective Mind, which is the personality's real self.
Seventh
The art of magic in its long history has never been associated with
comedy. The soothsayers, priests, astrologers, medicine men, and all
who used mystery in their business, never mixed it with comedy,
although when off by themselves, they may have laughed in their
sleeve. It is of very ancient origin and hoary with a venerable age that
ought to entitle it to respect. It has been practiced in all seriousness by
all peoples, and, although not always with honest purposes by those
who dealt in its secrets, yet it has served in its ancient forms in many
ways to control, guide and help the ignorant and barbarous peoples of
the earth.
Now if our art is to be respected and ennobled these "doins" have got
to be cut out and these incompetent performers educated or suppressed.
(In parenthesis let me say that there is but one art--the art of magic.
Sleight-of-hand is not an art in itself; it is but one of the means used in
magic. It should never be used in the too common juggling-sense
exhibitions of dexterity. The fact that you use sleight-of-hand in magic
should be carefully concealed--not exposed.)
To elevate the standard of our art we must all lift together. I believe
that comedy does more than all other things combined to drag our art in
the dust. If a professional comedian should attempt magic, he would
use it only as a foil or butt for his wit--and you can imagine what a low
quality of magic it would be. Conversely: If a professional magician--I
mean a real one--should attempt comedy, you can imagine what
estimate the professional comedian would put upon it. Comedy is a fine
art, as is magic. What a fine successor Francis Wilson would be to
Kellar; and how easy it would be for Kellar to play the Lion Tamer of
Wilson! If you cannot substitute these things, neither can you mix them
without damaging both.
Some time ago a book was published wherein the "patter" was given to
go with some of the experiments. I assume the performer had better
sense than to use for himself such alleged wit, that ridiculed himself
and his work. The saddest thing about it is, that, if he did say the
things, he was ignorant of the fact that he was insulting himself and his
art before his audience. Let me herewith submit some of the senseless
lines excerpted from the mass of them.
"Then you just put them together and just hank a bit and
there you are. You see that is why the people call it
hankey-pankey. I will show you another way. I shall first
light this match, then I light these papers and--burn my
fingers--that's not sleight-of-hand, really; no skill required;
only just a match and a good deal of clumsiness."
Look at the names he has called himself, his work, his calling, and the
offensive remarks directed at the audience in this beautiful, high-class-
comedy wit. The author and performer does great credit to himself in
this book, except for this insane comedy rot. Strange, isn't it, that he
put it in the book? He ought to have had enough horse-sense not to
inoculate all the amateurs that should read his book with such insane
virus to degrade the profession and the art. It proves just what I want to
say to all magicians: If you haven't real wit in you cut out your feeble
attempts at it.
To be witty you must have a talent for it as for any other predominating
faculty. If you haven't, making idiotic remarks like the above will only
show your feeble-mindedness and destroy your work as a magician.
The man that wrote that in his book had no sense of real wit nor its
place in a magic performance.
A little wit may be used; but let it be consonant, not discordant and
insane, with the occasion and pertinent to the thing you are performing.
Let your wit be an aid to other means to mystify the audience, not a
distracting element that throws their mind off its balance and their
attention off your immediate work and the effect you are attempting to
accomplish.
Blot the idea of "patter" out of your brain. The "word" and the "stuff"
that has been put into books has done great damage. A magician must
have legitimate "lines"--that's the term to use, not "patter"--and these
lines should be studied and delivered with such care and precision by
him as by any actor.
Eighth
Our body magic is infected with a disease germ, which, if not
eradicated, will, as in all cases of disease, destroy the life. The germ
that threatens the life is the vaudeville-comedy microbe.
Now what is to be done? The same as in any disease. Purify the room
and give the patient a tonic till he shall be able to throw off the disease
germs. There are two things that have polluted the atmosphere: First,
the manager who insists on saying how an act shall be put on; and,
second, the idea maintained by the manager that the public expects
some comedy from the magician--which is not true. Our brother who
has been trying to live and eat in this stifling atmosphere has tried and
failed in his strong, healthy purpose to win, for the reason that it is
impossible under the conditions he is in.
Some time ago the managers, I understand, made a compact that they
would play no magic act where there was not at least two big illusions
and three in the company. Good for the managers. Stand by them. They
want you to be headliners and they are telling you how to do it. Carry a
full complement of velvet or plush curtains (drops are no good),
illusions, smaller effects and your people and there is no reason why
you will not be the feature act of the show. No magician should play a
house that would ask him to accept an inferior position. Aim to be
headliners and the managers will soon see magic in a different light.
Recently we had one in our city, and the manager said the magician
had made good--the best week we had had. Cheer up and get wise.
Other acts have stage: The acrobat act; the musical act; the dogs,
ponies, monkeys, and trained animals; the trick bicyclist; the juggler,
and others. Why should not the magic act have its freedom?
In the second place the comedy must be cut out. There is no two ways
about that. It must be done. If you have good jokes, bill double and
come on later in disguise and tell them to everybody that is willing to
stay.
I asked a large number of people who witnessed a fine magic act if they
liked it better where the magician was serious and not funny, and
almost to a man they preferred him without his comedy. Now, there is a
psychological, philosophical reason for their answer. It is this: When
one beholds a mystery, his attitude of mind at once becomes serious
and studious, endeavoring to reason out and fathom what has just been
perceived. To have one's head split open with a joke, is to destroy
absolutely the condition of mind that the mystery induced. Especially
so, if your remark is derogatory to yourself, your audience, or the effect
just done.
Ninth
He who writes upon any art in fidelity must do so from a high plane.
How many of the world's great artist musicians, painters, sculptors,
poets and authors have not only, in their fidelity to their fine art, not
only gone hungry for the sympathy and appreciation of the public but
even hungry for bread and butter. Not a single friend stood by Mozart's
grave. One was present with Beethoven in his last illness, I believe.
The sad representatives of the other arts could be named.
Any art is not safe in the hands of one who is merely looking for his
bread and butter in the practice of it. If the ideal in your art is not your
aim, you are not an artist. You may think you are; or may ask to have
your name go on the bill as one, but you are not what you profess to be.
The art of magic as practiced on the vaudeville stage needs cleaning
up. Any one that says no, is not faithful to their trust. It is there that the
damage has been done to our art and it is there that it must be set right.
Truth is like a sword: It cuts. The surgeon's knife is to remove the bad
flesh. The critic's knife, if he is honest in his purpose, will remove the
bad spot, and there will be some pain. Some readers may put an
interpretation upon my words that were not intended by me. For
instance: "The carpet baggers in the business must be cut out." I was
plainly speaking of the vaudeville stage; not club workers. Read it over
again--not one of my articles but all of them.
Be witty without comedy. Comedy will kill the magician; wit will give
him a high place in the mind of the audience, who will then discover
that the magician's wit, as well as his mysterious knowledge and
power, is of a superior character. Indeed, it must be. Mysterious power
and low wit do not go together. Let your wit be scintillating,
unexpected, rare and scattered throughout your performance. If you put
in too much of it, they will see you are aiming to be funny--and there
you are, a dead one.
The audience laughs at other things than your wit. Use your wit as
spice--sparingly. They laugh at the denouement of the tricks
themselves. I think the psychological reason is, that the surprise in the
result of the experiment breaks the continuity of their feeling, like a
disrupted electric current and the result is, the intermittent thing within
us called laughter. So, you must expect the audience to laugh at every
surprising effect--and they are all surprising. They may not holler and
hang onto their seats--but they are smiling and laughing, just the same.
When I do the handkerchief under the plate from the nickled cassette
and then immediately repeat, vanishing from the hand, I get a big
laugh. The audience are delighted that I so easily and completely beat
them to a frazzle in their attempts to use their five senses upon me.
They honor me by laughter and a good hand. I want to say that every
time I do even this little effect I get a big laugh and a good big hand. I
only mention this, to show that straight, serious work will bring
laughter and appreciation--for I make no effort to be funny. Try it. Put
your wit in your work, not in funny sayings.