It would seem that at any given hour, there is a television channel broadcasting some sort of reality show. Whether it involves a tribe voting, an awarded rose, or a race that’s amazing, producers have learnt the cost of a reality programme is far outweighed by its value (to advertisers).

The formula – put several people who wouldn’t normally be together under the unlikeliest of circumstances together under unlikely circumstances – is rich ground for conflict. Since conflict is fairly easy to sell to the public, there’s no need to spend money on scripts or actors. Edit out the boring bits, and congratulations, you’ve got ratings.

While I do admit a weakness for cooking-based reality shows (something about the combination of food and humiliation really speaks to me) I find this formula tiresome. But that doesn’t stop people from trying.

Take, for instance, something that’s recently been making the rounds on the social media services. There are plans afoot for a magic-based reality show. Since it’s coming from a “Major Network”, I’d suspect that this will at least get a pilot made. What makes this interesting is the opportunity for the punters to vote on who they want to see in the show, but according to the site, voting “DOESN’T GUARANTEE a spot on the show” (Emphasis theirs).

So what’s the problem? Shouldn’t more magic on television – especially from a “Major Network” – be seen as a good thing? Normally, I’d think so. But aside from my general hesitation around reality television, I have problems with what’s proposed here.

Another quote, this time from Béla Bartók, best sums it up, I think:

Competitions are for horses, not artists.

Even considering what I’ve said before, I think forcing a competition on to an artistic pursuit becomes a very slippery slope for the art. It becomes less about what participants experience, becoming more work-centric, and how a small group of judges think. What’s popular? What’s least challenging? What has more pyrotechnics?

Ultimately, I question if this is best for the art, for any art.

This does have the opportunity to bring some gifted magicians to a wider audience. And, for the record, I do know some of those who are vying for a spot on the show. I don’t know if they could otherwise get the chance to showcase their work on such a grand scale, but I also don’t know if they will be allowed a chance to shine. Unfortunately, art in reality television seems to be the exception that proves the rule.

What really stuck with me was his candour about why he did this. Not out of some sense of the greater good for the magic community, but, instead:

…so I can better understand the world I live in. If I can understand it, perhaps, I can improve my chances of making it a better place.

For what it’s worth, I think there’s a lesson there that’s wider than this discussion.

Today I received another email from Derek, one that may well validate the idea of community policing espoused in my original post. It turns out the owners of the original piracy site stepped up and wanted to make amends. They agreed to work with Derek, transforming the site into one with an anti-piracy theme, in exchange for relative anonymity – no release of surnames. With the help of Jonathan Bayme (CEO of theory11), this new venture looks to make the world – at least the magic world – a better place:

So, with thanks to my new friends Brian, Jason and Mr. Jonathan Bayme, the project is underway and we are proud to announce the new Magicsnoop.com, a site that will actively pursue and protect the intellectual property of magicians.

http://www.magicsnoop.com/

Good work, Derek. I look forward to seeing how this new chapter unfolds, and if the world is ready to be made a better place.

These days the concept of sharing information on the Web ranges from innocent to nefarious, and every stop in between. One of these ways is piracy, which lives more towards the nefarious end of the scale. Unauthorised reproduction or use of copyrighted material has always been a sticking point for content producers and consumers alike, with legislators sprinting to catch up with technology. In some cases, you get what happened in New Zealand this year with The Copyright (Infringing File Sharing) Amendment Bill, which puts the onus of proving innocence onto the accused. Controversial, to say the least, as it would seem to contradict the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act. But I digress.

On 8 December 2011, Derek DelGaudio posted this on Twitter:

@Magic_Snoop I'd appreciate it if you didn't offer my copyrighted material. It's a dick move, not to mention illegal.

08 December 2011 15:20 via webReplyRetweetFavorite

@derek_del

Derek DelGaudio

Then, about five hours later,

CONTEST! First to publicly name who owns http://t.co/f5HcAkJn wins a very cool box of goodies!RT @garciamagic & @calenmorelli365, want in?

08 December 2011 20:33 via webReplyRetweetFavorite

@derek_del

Derek DelGaudio

After this campaign gained groundswell on Twitter, the offending site was gone by 9 December 2011, replaced with a domain parking page:

The site is down, but contest stands! Win a prize loaded with magic from me, @mwisme @garciamagic @calenmorelli365! (see last tweets) RT

09 December 2011 08:45 via EchofonReplyRetweetFavorite

@derek_del

Derek DelGaudio

It’s difficult to prove a causative link between DelGaudio’s crusade and the site forced offline. Still, support grew. Within a day or two, many names in magic – famous and non –  had contributed prizes to the ‘contest’. People like Jamy Ian Swiss, David Blaine, William Kalush, Helder Guimares, R Paul Wilson, Michael Weber, The Buck Twins, Andi Gladwin, and Daniel Garcia all chipped in. This unity of purpose astounded me. (As of this writing, it doesn’t look like anyone has collected the bounty on the disestablished site’s owner.)

I know magic, like other creative endeavours, has been affected by digital copyright infringement. Why buy when you can download? To be honest, I always thought the arguments put forward by motion picture studios and record companies were hollow, just a remnant of centralised control of product and profit in an increasingly decentralised world. I sided with those claiming piracy and theft are not the same thing. In the conjuring world, though, I don’t know about this position. A relatively small community with a limited economic influx sees the downstream impact of copyright infringement quite quickly. It was this small community that gathered, and essentially caused the site to vanish, without the weight of entertainment cartels or legislatures.

Ultimately, I don’t know if this is a win for DelGaudio. Anyone with a Google and a bit of intuition can find what are presumably the files formerly hosted on the shuttered site. Because of peer-to-peer file sharing, no longer is there one place where the files are kept, so removing them from the Internet becomes nigh impossible. Of course, that won’t stop governments from crafting laws with unanticipated side effects. After all, long-term thinking isn’t something in which governments excel.

So what, then? Has what has happened with Derek DelGaudio’s magic change the face of piracy? Doubtful. For some, information is meant to be free, and to that end it will be made so. Technology will outpace law, and people will have their intellectual property taken beyond their control. But the idea of a community policing itself  seems far less problematic than sweeping legislation that risks the democratisation of information.

The title has always intrigued me, illuminating the gap between people that has always existed. I believe Rich meant it to uncover differences in gender and culture, but the same goes for all words that define us and separate us at the same time. It’s these implied and imposed divisions that cause medical terms to be in Latin and technical explanations to be unerringly complex.

In a way, we all need a level of opacity in language to form our boundaries and shape us. If we can’t communicate with those like us, what hope can there be for any understanding? The only issue comes when we want to connect with others outside our group.

In magic, this division is prevalent. It’s to be expected really, in a situation where the very nature of what occurs is based in secrecy and deception. But then there comes a time where the deception needs to be brought into the light, to have people – real, live, non-magician people – observe and interact. That’s when what we learn in books and from others falls sadly short in making the connection. For example:

• Square: If you work with cards, you know what ‘square the deck’ means. But give a deck of cards to a participant and tell them to square it, and you may be met with a blank stare. This is one of those times when a simple ‘make sure they’re all straight’ may suffice.
• Shuffle: I feel the days of using cards for recreation are on the wane, and the concept of ‘shuffling’ will soon be like calling recorded music ‘albums’ – a nostalgic nod to a fond past. Instead, a word like ‘mix’ conveys the idea and the action in one. Granted, this may be a stretch, but think of how prevalent the mimed shuffling action is performed as an instruction.
• Patter: This is one for the insiders, but I think still proves the point. ‘Patter’ is an essentially derogatory term, denoting rote speech. Actors don’t refer to their scripted lines as ‘patter’, even though actors and magicians share the end goal of entertainment. ‘Dialogue’ or ‘presentation’ seems a better choice.

These are only a few top-of-mind examples, and I’m sure there are far better ways in getting these ideas across. It’s a conscious effort to make the connection with people, to not drive a wedge between what we know and what others experience. A conscious, sometimes difficult, but worthwhile effort.

I’ve recently realised – probably far later than I should have – that this understanding is based in a simple concept that’s overlooked. To paraphrase Otis and Aretha, this is about respect.

This somewhat obvious revelation came about whilst I attended the Sydney International Magic Summit, put on by Sean and Diana Taylor of Taylor’s Magic Shop. I had been mulling ideas around presentation and involving others for some time, and looked forward to learning more on this from the lineup of speakers: Michael Ammar, Oscar Muñoz, and Peter Wardell. It was also an opportunity to talk with other Antipodean magicians about, well, anything and everything.

The edifying moment happened for me during Peter Wardell’s lecture. Peter produces The Magic State of Mind podcast and the 52 Ideas blog, both abundant with content for those willing to absorb it. He was significantly jet lagged, but he said something during the lecture that really rang true to me. Again I paraphrase, but his intent remains:

Tricks are for yourself. Effects involve other people.

Fundamental to that remark is the appreciation of the ‘other’ involved. After all, they are the ones participating, giving their time to someone whose idea of creative expression usually involves transposition of an item to an impossible location. We should work to reward participants for the respect they’ve shown to us. Performing an effect does this, taking into account their observations, beliefs, thoughts, and feelings – the things that make them human and worthy of respect. Whereas performing a trick merely shows that you’re clever.

Though this is a message echoed throughout magic’s corpus, seeing hobbyists or casual performers disrespect participants didn’t really surprise me. (Here’s a tip: if you’re performing a three-card monte routine for Michael Ammar, you might want to avoid the insulting remarks as part of your delivery. Ammar will crush you.)

It was during the International Stars of Magic show when I was astounded to see several performers fly in the face of this oft-repeated consideration of respect. For instance, if you call someone on stage, it’s probably best not to make fun of them and their parents. Continually. Sure, it may get some cheap laughs, but you can almost guarantee that you’ve lost their respect. And then there’s the chain reaction: the next time the person you’ve disrespected encounters a magician, you’ve all but ensured the level of respect and participation they’ll receive.

The initial respect is hard earned. Once won, it’s too easily lost. Even if it takes an extra moment of thought, isn’t respect worth retaining?

Don’t do tricks “to” your audience; do tricks “for” them.

This, to me, points out an important distinction between spectator and participant in magic.

Spectators are passive in the act, and they have the work done to them. This usually manifests when you see someone performing magic as close to the script as possible. When performing for spectators, if one thing goes wrong – the chosen card wasn’t the Eight of Diamonds; the thumb tip is seen; the shell coin flips over – the illusion is over, usually accompanied with visible  frustration and resentment. How dare this spectator ruin my beautiful trick?

Performances for participants, though, are far more engaging. The audience is active and  involved. If things go wrong, there is an acceptance of humanity, and a laugh is had, and we move on. Oh well, just trying to have some fun. How about this…

The literature is rife with this terminology of ‘spectator’. A quick look through the shelves has Simon, Fitzkee, Tamariz and Hugard using the term. I can understand how there are really a limited amount of words one could use to describe the person or persons who are involved on the non-performing end of a routine, but the next time you see the word, try translating it to ‘participant’.

The important thing to remember is that lacking the engagement of a participant, you may as well be locked in your room practising for your mirror. You need a participant to come along with you on the journey, to feel something magical happen. Otherwise, what’s the point?