These are quixotic times for people who do magic. Thanks to a series of popular television shows, the secrets to many of the most popular classic tricks have been revealed to neophytes for the first time, to the horror of many of those who make their living from baffling an audience. Yet there’s no questioning the ongoing demand for this form of theatrical entertainment.
In Las Vegas, most of the large casino shows are now anchored by magicians, not singers. David Copperfield tours his arena-sized illusions and glamorously elongated assistants all over the country (he recently attracted huge audiences to the Rosemont Theatre). New York audiences have special affection for the likes of Rickey Jay, the only magician who can claim David Mamet as his director. And Chicago has at least three more major upcoming magic shows at theaters this spring.
Opening at the Mercury Theatre on Sunday is “Jensen Magic,” a show that stars a 27-year-old, Dallas-based illusionist named Steve Jensen, who says that he hopes to run this piece here for several months before transferring his endeavor to Broadway. Unusually for an off-Loop Chicago theater, Jensen’s show will be performed eight times each week. And because this young and ambitious performer — who hitherto has made his living mainly through one-night corporate events — is essentially serving as his own producer, he clearly has a lot riding on how Chicago audiences take to “Jensen Magic.”
Also, beginning Saturday at the Ivanhoe Theatre is the rather smaller “Sleight of Heart,” a show in which the Chicago-raised Will Tremonte tells stories about his youth growing up in Little Italy, even as he spices his reminiscences with sleight-of-hand tricks. Tremonte’s grandfather was kidnapped by gypsies in southern Italy in 1873, thus beginning the family’s connection with the magic business. And in June, the television-friendly illusionists Penn and Teller will be bringing their subversive pranks to the Shubert Theatre.
A City Lit production, “Sleight of Heart” was previously seen by small audiences at the Chicago Cultural Center, but Ivanhoe owner, Doug Bragan, is convinced that Tremonte’s mix of storytelling and illusion can fill the large Ivanhoe mainstage on the weekends. “We think that if this show is marketed correctly, it’ll run for at least the whole month of May,” Bragan says. “We think magic has legs.”
So have the small-screen revelations (which have provoked howls of protest from many members of the magic fraternity) spoiled everyone’s fun? Jensen (who holds a degree in philosophy) has mixed feelings.
“It’s not fair,” said the thoughtful young fellow over lunch last week. “Secrecy is how I make my living. It’s sacrilegious. When the secret’s out about the classic illusions, the audience loses.”
On the other hand, there’s all kinds of new interest in the genre. Trying to figure out how a trick is done is, for most people, a large amount of the appeal of any magic show. But an excellent performer can disguise the illusion so cleverly behind an intriguing persona (and within a narrative) that the audience has no idea that they are watching the very illusion to which supposedly they have been given the secret.
“We can all buy the same tricks,” Jensen said. “We can all put a girl in a short skirt and saw her in half. Acquiring magic is not the challenge. But the great magicians emphasize character and storyline and take the notion of an illusion in an entirely different direction.”
You need a gimmick in this business, of course. And while Jensen hates to criticize his colleagues, he wants people to know that his show does not compete with David Copperfield, magic’s all-powerful brand name. For one thing, Jensen has picked the 300-seat Mercury Theatre.
“An audience shouldn’t be 200 yards away when it’s watching magic,” Jensen says. “And a magician should not need video cameras and projection screens. I like to have my audience close enough so that they can see me sweat.”
Still, Jensen has his big sets and six assistants, and he markets sensuality with the same passion as Copperfield — “Jensen Magic” features a hip and jazzy soundtrack, and he is trying to create a neoclassical, cigar-smokin’ swank persona that will appeal to the wealthy yuppies who traverse Southport Avenue in search of an evening’s entertainment. In short, This is supposed to be a sassy date show.
“I promise no kids, ruffs or rabbits,” he says. “My audience is looking more for theater than tricks.”
