Magic
by Ricky Jay
There is a critical distinction between doing tricks and creating a sense of wonder. I won’t perform for magicians at magic shows, because they’re interested in things. They don’t get it. They won’t watch me and be inspired to make magic of their own. They’ll be inspired to do that trick with that setup, those props, and that monologue.
Magic is not about someone else sharing the newest secret. Magic is about working hard to discover a secret and making something out of it. You start with some small principle and you build a theatrical presentation out of it. You do something that’s technically artistic that creates a small drama.
There are two ways you can expand your knowledge—through books and by gaining the confidence of fellow-magicians who will explain these things. People ask me why I don’t do lectures at magic conventions, and I say, "Because I’m still learning." Some magicians, once they learn how to do a trick without dropping the prop on their foot, go ahead and perform in public. I will work on a routine a couple of years before even showing anyone.
My grandfather was an amateur acquisitor of skill and knowledge. He was interested in a lot of things—pool, chess, checkers, calligraphy, cryptography, origami, magic. His philosophy was to take lessons from the best available people and then proceed on his own. He was really a terrific teacher.
Today, I think audiences are just as curious, just as willing to be amazed as I was as a child. But look at everything we’re barraged with—it just doesn’t lodge in the imagination the same way. We need to reignite our collective sense of wonder.
All I value as a performer is for people to want to see and wonder. I’d much rather perform in a small room in front of a few people around a table than in an enormous theatre or stadium.
Magic is the only thing I've ever done that I speak of myself as doing into the indefinite future. I just think it's wonderful, in the "full of wonder" sense of the word. I really do.
Magic is not about someone else sharing the newest secret. Magic is about working hard to discover a secret and making something out of it. You start with some small principle and you build a theatrical presentation out of it. You do something that’s technically artistic that creates a small drama.
There are two ways you can expand your knowledge—through books and by gaining the confidence of fellow-magicians who will explain these things. People ask me why I don’t do lectures at magic conventions, and I say, "Because I’m still learning." Some magicians, once they learn how to do a trick without dropping the prop on their foot, go ahead and perform in public. I will work on a routine a couple of years before even showing anyone.
My grandfather was an amateur acquisitor of skill and knowledge. He was interested in a lot of things—pool, chess, checkers, calligraphy, cryptography, origami, magic. His philosophy was to take lessons from the best available people and then proceed on his own. He was really a terrific teacher.
Today, I think audiences are just as curious, just as willing to be amazed as I was as a child. But look at everything we’re barraged with—it just doesn’t lodge in the imagination the same way. We need to reignite our collective sense of wonder.
All I value as a performer is for people to want to see and wonder. I’d much rather perform in a small room in front of a few people around a table than in an enormous theatre or stadium.
Magic is the only thing I've ever done that I speak of myself as doing into the indefinite future. I just think it's wonderful, in the "full of wonder" sense of the word. I really do.