<-|Top|Showmanship For Magicians|Trick Brain|Magic By Misdirection|Mail|->
<-|!*!|C|I|1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|18|19|20|21|22|23|->
MAGIC
By
MISDIRECTION

CHAPTER TWENTY

On page 37 of THE TRICK BRAIN was explained a scissors production based upon a Lloyd Enochs variation of a wine glass production invented by Jardine Ellis. The original trick appears in A FEW JARDINE ELLIS' SECRETS, by George Johnson, under the title of Thimble and Wine Glass. I have long considered the Enochs variation an outstanding example of effective diversion.

A small stem type wineglass is filled with water, or other suitable liquid, and covered with a rubber cover. Thus prepared, it is inverted and hung on a wire clip at the left edge of the lower vest pocket, just above the left trousers pocket.

Both sides of a borrowed handkerchief are shown, the handkerchief being held by two adjacent corners and allowed to hang flat. The performer's right hand releases its hold upon the handkerchief. It falls, hanging from one corner, held with the fingers of the left hand. This hand is held breast high. The magician looks down at his right vest pocket, as he feels around in it with the fingers of his left hand. He says, "I thought I had a half dollar here."

Smiling, he looks up quickly. He looks up quickly right into the eyes of a spectator-assistant, if he uses one. Or, if not, he looks into the eyes of a member of the audience. "I wonder if I could borrow a coin from you?" As he catches the spectator's attention—the eyes of the other spectators will be upon the performer's also—the magician reaches to the left, straight across his body. He reaches with his right hand. This hand goes straight across the body, behind the handkerchief and beneath the coat. It slips the wineglass from the clip, the stem going between the second and third fingers. What, in normal position would be the top of the glass' base, rests upon the outstretched fingers. Thus, the base of the glass rests upon the palm of the right hand.

This is done in one smooth motion. It is done while the performer is looking at the spectator. The hand sweeps over, takes the glass, goes up to the left fingers, and takes the handkerchief. The handkerchief, of course, is taken from behind. It hides the glass hanging below the fingers.

The performer looks down at his left vest pocket as the fingers of that hand feel around in it. At the same time the magician says, "Never mind. If I don't have one here, I can get along without it."

In the meantime, the right hand holds the handkerchief, palm inclined toward the audience, glass hanging inverted below the hand and behind the handkerchief.

The search in the left pocket having failed, the magician seizes the corner of the handkerchief nearest his body. He pulls the handkerchief back over his right wrist until the center of it is over the palm. The opposite corner is hanging directly in front of the hand.

With the forefinger and thumb of the left hand, the performer plucks the center of the handkerchief. He lifts the center up a few inches, then allows it to fall back onto the palm. This is repeated.

The third time he picks up the handkerchief thus, he closes his right hand, still held palm up. This is done beneath the cover of the handkerchief. The act of closing the hand brings the glass upright on the palm. The handkerchief is allowed to fall upon the glass thus materialized, as the right fingers, releasing the glass, straighten out again. The rubber cover is pinched through the handkerchief. It is removed from the glass, concealed beneath the handkerchief, as the latter is lifted off to reveal the glass.

Of course, the example of diversion occurs at the time the glass is stolen from the clip.

The problem was to gain possession of the glass in an unsuspicious manner. Securing it under the guise of moving the handkerchief from one hand to the other required a good reason for the move. A good alternative reason for making the required motion was needed. A natural and plausible excuse was the necessity of freeing the left hand so that it could search the left vest pocket. This was a good excuse because, doing this, the hands would be held rather high naturally.

But it was necessary that the performer's interpretation of the move should prevail. A different interpretation could reveal the act as one of taking something from concealment. This would have damaged the deception irreparably. So the performer had to insure that the spectators would mistake the move for one of searching for a coin. He could not say, "I am doing this so that I can search for a coin"

Direct statements run risks of being disbelieved, when the spectators know that deception is imminent. Suggestion is much more powerful, as was discussed previously. Therefore, the performer had to plant the idea. He established what he was doing by searching the right pocket first. So, when the handkerchief was exchanged to the other hand, the act was natural and reasonable for a purpose the audience knew.

Even though the act was natural, however, the act was not sufficiently strong in dissimulation, if the spectators' attention followed it closely. It became necessary, then, to divert the attention away from the act.

The performer fixed the spectators' attention upon the right vest pocket. This insured that the spectators would know what he was doing—this, and his remark relative to borrowing a coin. As he took his right hand from this pocket, it moved upward, toward his face, at a slow, easily-followed speed. When the hand stopped, the bowed head—in that position because it was looking at the pocket picked up the movement, and lifted. The head lifted to look at the spectator while the remark was addressed to him.

It was a slow, uninterrupted flow of motion, carefully timed, from the right vest pocket to the performer's eyes.

His eyes held the spectator's eyes momentarily, while he asked for the coin. This caught—and held—the spectator's attention. In that split second the glass was stolen.

In passing, it might be well to note also that the performer added to the deception by utilizing anticipation. The glass was stolen before the trick seemed to have begun.

Diversion is the subtlest of all of the stratagems at the disposal of the deceptionist. It is the introduction of a new interest for the spectator at a critical moment for the performer. Almost anything may be used. It may be a person, an object, an idea, a happening, or even a gesture. There is no limit as to what may be used, so long as it will draw the spectator's attention in a subtle manner. Naturalness, lack of suspicious motive and seeming utter absence of preplanning seem to be the essential ingredients.

One may address a remark, or a joke, to an assistant Or a spectator, to divert attention from the critical operation while making the pass. He may address a spectator so as to divert the latter's attention during the act of palming off cards in performing The Cards To The Pocket. Another instance is rubbing the hand on the elbow, apparently rubbing the coin into it, while the other hand is secretly dropping the coin into a pocket. A sudden question will catch attention.

The fundamental secret of diversion is a natural, gradual approach, quietly done, which catches the spectator off guard. In contrast, distraction is created by surprise and unexpectedness coupled with natural unsuspicious reasons for them.

Diversion has been used effectively to assist the deception in the production of a stack of bowls. The performer has produced a quantity of silks from a hat or from some other production device. He starts over toward a nearby chair to put them down. But just as be arrives at the chair, a solitary silk flutters from his left hand to the floor.

As the performer stoops to pick up the silk, the right hand, holding a number of the silks, rests upon the back of the chair, apparently supporting him. The spectators' attention will follow the movement of the silk, normally. While all eyes are on the silk, the right hand seizes the stack of bowls that has been resting concealed behind the chair.

Having retrieved the silk, the performer straightens. His right hand holds the silks lightly, just as if the added weight of the bowls was not there. This calls for dissimulation. It is necessary to prevent betrayal of the presence of the heavy stack of bowls.

The performer adds the silk to those in his right hand, stepping away from the chair as he does so. Then, the silks are lowered to the floor and the stack of bowls is revealed.

A similar type of diversion may be used for loading a hat or a cone. Here, during the production of articles from a hat—or during the production of flowers—one of the produced articles drops to the floor, seemingly by accident. The performer stoops to pick it up with the left hand. As he does so, the hat or cone scoops an added load from the back of a chair.

Robert Madison, an unusually skillful amateur, is one of the finest masters of misdirection I have ever known. He used to apply a clever application of diversion in his egg bag routine. To secure a live chicken load, he had a table that would eject the chicken from the front. All that was necessary was to hold the egg bag with its mouth against the front of the table. The hand holding the bag could do the loading.

But holding an egg bag with its opening against the front of a table would be a highly suspicious action normally. The problem was to find a reason for holding it in that position, a position that would be normal and natural for the special circumstances necessary.

Mr. Madison accomplished it by vanishing the egg and reproducing it from the sole of his shoe. The egg was apparently taken from the sole of the right shoe. To get at it, it was necessary for him to stand on one foot. Accordingly, he rested his right hand, which was also holding the egg bag, upon the front of the table. This brought the bag in the proper position. The right foot was lifted and crossed in front of the left leg. In this position, the left hand took the egg, apparently, from beneath the shoe.

But during this action, while attention was upon the egg being recovered from beneath the shoe, the live chicken was loaded into the bag. Its subsequent production was a complete surprise.

In the paper from MISDIRECTION FOR MAGICIANS, referred to before, Leslie Guest explained an excellent example of diversion in connection with a rabbit load:

Let me illustrate with a practical problem of my own. I produced silks from a crush opera hat, followed by a large rabbit. Originally, I would drop one of the silks, and in stooping to recover it would scoop the rabbit from a chair servante into the hat. Later I got away from the chair and had Mrs. Guest plop the rabbit into the hat at the psychological moment. We were not well satisfied with the subterfuge. We often felt like ostriches concealing their heads in the sand while their bodies were quite apparent.

Our solution was this: The last silk produced was actually a variegated parachute. This I tossed high in the air. As I tossed, my other hand, holding the hat, moved back and in this instant Mrs. Guest plopped the rabbit into the hat. All eyes followed the slowly descending parachute. We feel that this open movement is now well covered.

A further idea from Mr. Guest definitely contributes to our exploration of diversion. It, too, appeared in the paper in question.

I have an excellent piece of equipment listed by Thayer as "The Flight of the Rodents." It is a variation of an old Dutch vanish on a smaller scale. The vanish is effected by inserting the livestock into a beveled tabletop with rubber panels top and bottom. This is perfect for small animals, but I tried it with a large rabbit. The result was a quite-evident bulge on both sides of the tabletop. Something had to be done.

The actual procedure was this: The rabbit is placed in the box. The box is taken apart, and each piece is shown on both sides. Mrs. Guest takes each piece as I show it. Then the tabletop is lifted and shown. Mrs. Guest also takes it. Finally, there is sucker business with the skeleton table frame and legs, and they are eventually shown for what they are.

We made one small addition and our problem was solved. The lifting of the tabletop from the frame automatically releases a rabbit's foot that swings into view at the bottom of the table frame. This instantly draws attention, and usually a howl from the audience. While the howl is still going strong, that dangerously bulgy tabletop is quickly shown and passed off. And by the time the rabbit's foot is shown for what it is, and the skeleton table frame tipped forward, all damaging evidence has long since left the stage.

If one should be attending a banquet, and if, during one of the speeches—BANG!—someone fired a revolver, it would get immediate and complete attention. It is quite possible that, at that moment, the waiters could walk off with the piano without anyone noticing it.

This is distraction.

Now, suppose that, instead of attending a banquet, the performer should be about to make the pass. If the drummer, at that particular moment, should fire the revolver, the performer could make the pass—and very clumsily, too—without being seen.

Suppose, instead, a card has been selected, and that the performer is ready to make the pass. He takes the pack as usual, and steps back a pace. But as he steps back, his foot slips and he looks down quickly to see what he has stepped on. Right after the slip, just as he looks down, he makes the pass.

Instead of slipping, he could suddenly look down at the floor and brush an imaginary something aside with the toe of his shoe. As he brushes the floor, he makes the pass. The spectators' eyes cannot fail to follow the magician's.

These little actions, done naturally and not obviously, are the unexpected and distracting happenings that take the place of the revolver shot. But these expedients will not be effective if they do not really look to be accidental, if it is apparent that they are deliberately contrived.

Going back to the banquet: Perhaps, like myself, you were enjoying the food. Suppose that, after that first shot, someone should undertake to fire the gun at regular intervals, repeatedly. The noise would soon lose its attention value and become a nuisance.

Soon, the repetition would become monotonous—just as monotony was created, as previously discussed, to dull the spectators attention.

The same holds true of all of these expedients and artifices. One cannot repeatedly use the same sort of attention control stratagems. Neither may they be done in the same manner. The very basis of deception is many and varied applications of many and varied expedients.

Thus, if distraction is caused by one method, in one trick, the same thing should not be used for another trick. The same holds true in applying all of these elements of attention control. The attack must be varied.

The Reappearing Alarm Clock, ringing loudly, is excellent distraction to cover getting rid of the tray used in The Vanishing Alarm Clock.

Blackstone uses a bold application of distraction in making an exchange with an assistant. Both are in costume, disguised. During the attempted shooting of a gun, which does not explode, and while a box is being exhibited empty by his assistants, on the opposite side of the stage, Blackstone backs off behind a wing. His assistant, similarly attired, steps right out again, in his place.

In another instance, there is a low stool on one side of the stage. The girl assistant steps onto it. The performer steps upon the stool, behind her. He spreads a sheet in front of her. Just as he covers the girl, holding the sheet stretched out flat, an assistant enters from the opposite side of the stage. The assistant gets part way on. He stops. His eyes are on the floor, surprised. He stoops and picks up something.

The sheet has been spread so that one edge comes within a couple of feet of a wing. Just as the assistant, at whom the performer directs his own surprised attention, picks up what is on the floor, the girl steps off the stool and back of the wing. Then the performer picks up the action again and performs the apparent vanish.

In an illusion I used to perform, I signaled my reappearance at the rear of the audience by firing a revolver shot. The shot distracted attention from The Tip-over Trunk with which we accomplished the vanish which immediately preceded my reappearance. The double, made up to duplicate my appearance in costume, actually was vanished. With the shot, he stepped from the back of the trunk into a nearby cabinet. He did this in full view. He could do it because all attention had been distracted to the rear.

Psychologically, movement follows along a general line, either in a straight path or along a gradual curve.

Suppose a card is selected and replaced. The spectator is standing at the performer's right. The pack is in the magician's left hand. Opening the pack with his left thumb, the performer reaches across his body, to his right. and holds the opened pack for the spectator to replace the card. The card having been replaced, the pack is moved back across the body. The spectator's eyes follow the pack. But when the hand has reached the performer's left side, the performer suddenly elevates it a foot or more without stopping the movement. The spectator's eyes have a tendency, momentarily, to follow along the path of the original movement. The pass is made by the magician during the upward movement.

It is impossible for the spectator to see the move made. But it would be crude and unnatural to do it in this way. Yet, it could be made to look natural if the performer seemed to be lifting the hand to pull up his sleeve, or if he lifted the pack so that the spectators in the back might see.

This principle of movement, of sudden change in direction, actually is distraction. It may be applied in many situations. Many performers of the vanishing bird cage trick utilize it, either consciously or subconsciously. There must be, as has been emphasized repeatedly, a natural reason for it. Otherwise, it will merely confuse, not deceive.
<-|!*!|C|I|1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12|13|14|15|16|17|18|19|20|21|22|23|->
<-|Top|Showmanship For Magicians|Trick Brain|Magic By Misdirection|Mail|->