Vanishes

The Vanish

Of all things magicians are expected to be able to do, making things disappear is probably ranks as the most popular. Hardly a performance goes by, be it a formal show or just a few tricks at a party, that I am not asked to make somebody’s wallet, or wife, or bills, or general problems disappear. Just mention the mention that you’re a magician draws out these silly questions from spectators.

I find vanishes to be a very unique element in the magician’s repertoire. As impressive and demanded as they are in an act, very rarely are vanishes met with the vocal reactions of astonishment which we as magicians strive to pull out of our audiences. In many ways, they are a lead in to a production or reappearance effect. The excellent movie The Prestige even mentions that simply making something disappear is never enough; you have to bring it back. In the real world, a magician will find this to be true.

Think about it. When you vanish a coin and pull it from behind a child’s ear, where do they react? Sometimes they will smile or laugh when you show the coin gone, but most often, it’s when you reproduce the coin that their face brightens and they really react to the magic.

Does this mean productions are stronger, more powerful effects than vanishes? I don’t believe so. In our coin example, I feel that the production of the coin is only as powerful as it is due to the vanish preceding it. Together, the vanish and production create a more complete effect, better than just a solo vanish and solo production.

Oftentimes, a vanish is required to provide context for a production. Consider a magician taking an initialed coin, vanishing it, then shows his hand unmistakably empty as he reaches into his pocket to reproduce the initialed coin. Now imagine that same routine without the initial vanish. Where you had two magic moments, you now have none; just a man pulling an initialed coin out of his pocket. For that reason, the vanish is considerably more important than the appearance, for without the vanish there is no magic effect at all.

Again, the audience reaction is likely to come at the reproduction of the coin from pocket, even if the coin vanish is a very splendid feat of magic. Audiences expect the coin to be reproduced, so they save their vocal appreciation for the reproduction. And here’s the cool part, they will stay with you until you reproduce the object that’s vanished. In that way, vanishes can be used to add suspense to a performance of magic. The vanish grabs attention and creates interest. The suspense comes in the time lapse between the vanish and reproduction.

When I street perform, I always find a drastic increase in the size of my crowd the moment I begin my cups and balls routine (the finale of the act). How does the effect begin? With three vanishes. Well, the first is a legitimate vanish, the second is a gag, and the third is sort of a half-gag where the ball does eventually vanish from my mouth. The balls all then reappear beneath the cups, which consistently gets applause/wows/laughs/”how-did-he-do-that’s.” The suspense the three vanishes create is evident. People pay attention and never walk away during this phase of the effect.

For this reason, I feel vanishes are very important tools for magicians. Vanishes are a magic method to begin a very primal and suspenseful narrative. The balls vanishing nab attention and immediately rev the audience up for a production effect. It’s like a juggler walking around with three burning torches. Everyone knows he’s going to juggle them, and they will stick around (physically and mentally) to watch him do it. Same goes for the vanish-reproduction combo.

I feel the need to stress here that none of this really applies to what I like to call “magic asides.” These are magic effects, often done on the offbeat, which provide minor moments of awe to a performance. I’m talking about things like producing a lit match from nowhere in order to ignite flash paper for the main effect, or vanishing a marker after a card has been signed. These effects, which could be played up into main tricks, often appear in stage performances without significant attention drawn to them. I find they add more atmosphere and credibility to the performance than provide moments of astonishment for the audience. These “magic asides” are a topic for a different day, but—like I said—a minor vanish used for this purpose will not create the suspense to hold an audience’s attention. They realize that the main trick involves the signed card, so when the marker vanishes, they simply smile and move on to watch the card trick. They won’t dwell on the marker nor expect to see its return any time soon. And much of this is affected by the performer’s attitude towards the vanishing. If you focus on it, they will focus on it. Without focus or attention from you, suspense will not be created, even if it’s not an “magic aside.”

So vanishes are good for creating suspense and adding power to productions, Ryan? They aren’t powerful on their own? Will that depends on a lot of things. The vanishing birdcage is a classic stand-alone vanish, and is quite impressive when done well. However, that routine also often follows with the reproduction of the dove. David Blaine presented a wonderful moment of magic on his first TV special Street Magic where he uses the Raven to vanish a coin from a young man’s hand. The spectator just stared at his empty hand for a good while, and then simply stated “Cool.” And that’s really the reaction I feel vanishes conjure. They are not as exciting as productions of bright or larger objects, or levitations, or transformations. People don’t scream and run down the street after a vanish. Vanishes are simply the absence of what was believed to be there a moment ago. There’s beauty in that absence though. There’s no doubt in my mind that the young man Blaine performed the coin vanish for will remember that moment for the rest of his life. And when I watch great magicians cause coins or cards or elephants to vanish, even when I know every single move they are making, there is still a great little moment there when the cage or hand opens, and what was there is now gone.

It’s a snap to attention: an immediate rewind of the mind followed by a rapid fast-forwarding to see what happens next, to see if (when) it comes back. And that is astonishment. But astonishment isn’t everything for a performance of magic, and that is where the vanish’s weaknesses come in play: strictly as a finale. Vanishes just seem to lack the punch to drive an audience to their feet in applause. Transpositions do, and transpositions are half-vanishes, but the final magic effect which an audience is left with is a production in the case of a transposition. David Copperfield’s “Thirteen” finale to his current show is such an effect. The vanishing of a dozen randomly selected spectators onstage, while suspended in the air, is an extremely well thought out and convincing mystery. As an audience member, your jaw drops and astonishment begins to set in. But you are left waiting, waiting for the conclusion, the reproduction. And when the spectators reappear in the back of the house with their flashlights the crowd jumps to their feet and the astonishment really hits home. Such vanishes fail without a re-production.

More thoughts soon.