It was a Wednesday evening at a corporate networking event in Vienna. I was performing close-up mentalism during the cocktail hour — the kind of event where you work table to table, spending ten or fifteen minutes with each group before moving on. I was scheduled to work four tables over two hours.
At the first table, I performed a specific effect in a particular way. I presented myself straightforwardly as someone who practices magic and mentalism — no mystical claims, no supernatural framing, just a performer doing something impossible. “Let me show you something interesting,” I said. The effect went well. Genuine surprise, good reactions, warm applause.
At the second table, I changed nothing about the method or the effect itself. But I changed the frame. Instead of presenting as a magician, I leaned into the psychological angle. “I have been studying the psychology of decision-making,” I said. “Let me show you how predictable our choices really are.” Same effect. Different frame. The reactions were noticeably different — more thoughtful, more engaged, more lingering. People wanted to discuss what had just happened. They asked questions. They were not just surprised; they were intellectually stimulated.
At the third table, I changed the frame again. This time I presented the effect in a more mysterious context — not claiming psychic powers, but creating an atmosphere of genuine uncertainty. “There are things about how minds connect that science does not fully explain yet,” I said. Same effect. Same method. Third frame. And the reactions were different yet again — more emotional, more hushed, more personal. One woman told me that she felt something she could not describe. Another said it gave her chills.
I had performed the same effect three times. The only variable was the frame. And the three experiences were radically different.
That evening, back in my hotel room, I spent hours thinking about what I had just observed. Months later, when I encountered the framing research documented by Gustav Kuhn and Alice Pailhes, I found the scientific confirmation of what I had experienced firsthand.
The Three Frames
Todd Landman, a political scientist and amateur magician, developed a useful typology of performance frames that maps closely to what I observed that evening in Vienna. He identifies several distinct frames through which magic can be presented, but three are particularly relevant:
The natural frame: the performer is a skilled person using techniques and methods. The audience understands that what they are seeing is accomplished through practice, skill, and ingenuity. This is the “magician” frame. The experience is one of admiration for skill and puzzlement about method.
The psychological frame: the performer claims to use psychological techniques — reading body language, understanding decision patterns, exploiting cognitive biases. The audience believes they are witnessing an application of psychology and behavioral science. This is the “mentalist” frame. The experience is one of intellectual fascination and self-reflection.
The supernatural frame: the performer implies (or claims) genuine psychic or mystical abilities. The audience is invited to consider that what they are witnessing may be genuinely inexplicable. This is the “psychic” or “mystic” frame. The experience is one of awe, unease, and emotional depth.
Each frame creates a different relationship between the performer and the audience, a different set of expectations, and a different emotional landscape.
The Research on Framing
The research confirms that framing effects in magic are not subtle. They are large, measurable, and consistent.
Studies on audience preferences consistently show that framing changes how people evaluate the same performance. The same effect — identical in every measurable dimension — receives different ratings for entertainment value, impressiveness, and memorability depending on how it is framed.
The research also reveals something that might surprise performers who worry endlessly about their choice of words: the word “trick” is fine. Studies found no difference in audience impressions, enjoyment, or surprise between performances introduced as a “trick” versus a “performance.” Magicians like Juan Tamariz, Penn Jillette, and David Blaine all use the word freely, and the data supports their instinct. Audiences do not have a negative reaction to the word “trick” in the context of a magic performance.
However, the broader framing — the genre, the claimed basis for the performer’s abilities, the emotional tone of the introduction — matters enormously. Claiming to use psychology produces different reactions than claiming to use skill. Claiming to use something mysterious produces different reactions than claiming to use psychology.
Why Frame Matters More Than Method
This is the part that took me the longest to accept, because it challenged my instinct as a method-focused practitioner.
When I first started learning magic, I was obsessed with methods. I spent hours in hotel rooms perfecting techniques, learning new approaches, studying the mechanical side of the craft. I believed that a better method would produce a stronger effect. And to some extent, that is true — cleaner methods do create cleaner effects, which do feel more impossible.
But the framing research reveals that the frame contributes at least as much to the audience’s experience as the method does. A mediocre method presented in a compelling frame can produce deeper reactions than an excellent method presented in a bland frame.
Darwin Ortiz argues in his theoretical work that the audience’s experience is shaped more by what they think happened than by what actually happened. The frame determines what they think happened. If the frame says “this is a demonstration of psychological influence,” the audience experiences the effect as evidence of psychological mastery. If the frame says “this is a magic trick,” the audience experiences it as a puzzle to be solved. Same event. Different interpretation. Different experience.
The implication is uncomfortable for method-obsessed performers (and I include my former self in that category): the hours you spend perfecting your technique may matter less than the minutes you spend choosing and crafting your frame.
Mentalism as the Preferred Genre
The research contains a finding that validated a direction I had already taken in my own performing career, and it is worth sharing.
When surveyed about their preferences, fifty percent of audience members preferred mentalism over card magic, coin magic, or large-scale illusions. Mentalism was the single most popular genre among general audiences.
Moreover, seventy-three percent of participants preferred to watch card tricks rather than participate in them. But the opposite was true for mentalism — the majority of people enjoyed participating in mind-reading effects. Mentalism is the genre where audience participation is most welcome and most satisfying.
This data confirmed something I had intuited during my own evolution as a performer. I started with card magic — sitting in hotel rooms with ellusionist.com tutorials and a deck of Bicycle cards — and gradually migrated toward mentalism as I became more interested in the psychology of magic. The migration was driven by my own fascination, but it turns out it was also commercially and experientially optimal. Audiences prefer mentalism, and they prefer to participate in it.
For my current work — integrating magic and mentalism into keynote presentations — this is particularly relevant. Keynote audiences are there for ideas, not for entertainment. The psychological frame of mentalism (“let me show you how your mind works”) fits naturally into an intellectual context in a way that the entertainment frame of magic (“let me show you a trick”) does not. The frame does the integration work. It makes the magic feel like a demonstration rather than a digression.
The Danger of the Supernatural Frame
I want to be explicit about something: I do not use the supernatural frame, and I have strong reservations about performers who do.
The research shows that the supernatural frame produces the most intense emotional reactions. It creates awe, uncertainty, and emotional depth that the other frames do not match. From a pure impact standpoint, claiming psychic powers is the most effective frame.
But it is also the most ethically problematic. Claiming genuine supernatural abilities is a lie that can cause real harm. People who believe a performer has psychic powers may seek them out for genuine life guidance — decisions about health, relationships, finances, grief. The performer who creates that belief bears responsibility for its consequences.
I am comfortable presenting mentalism in the psychological frame because it is honest. I am genuinely interested in psychology. I do study decision-making and cognitive biases. When I say “let me show you how predictable our choices are,” I am describing something I actually believe and can substantiate. The frame is truthful even if the effect is not literally accomplished through the means the frame implies.
The supernatural frame has no such grounding. I do not have psychic abilities. Nobody does. And creating the impression that I do — even temporarily, even for entertainment — crosses an ethical line that I am not willing to cross.
This is a personal decision, and I know that reasonable people disagree. Some performers argue that the supernatural frame is understood as theater, just as audiences understand that an actor playing a murderer is not actually a murderer. But I think the analogy fails. The actor playing a murderer does not have people showing up at their house asking them to murder someone. The performer who claims psychic abilities may very well have people showing up asking for readings.
The Accolades Effect
Related to framing is what the research calls the accolades effect. Simply claiming that an effect is “one of the most difficult” has no impact on audience enjoyment or impressiveness ratings. But backing up the claim with specific, credible accolades — “one of only four magicians in the world with the skill to perform this” — significantly increases enjoyment, perceived complexity, and the audience’s desire to see more.
The most powerful accolade, according to the research, is television. Audiences were most impressed by performers who had appeared on television. More impressed than by performers with competition awards, famous clients, or expensive props.
I find this both informative and slightly depressing. It suggests that the most powerful framing device a performer can deploy is not the quality of their work but the prestige of their platform. A mediocre performer who has appeared on television will be rated more impressive than an excellent performer who has not.
But rather than lamenting this, I try to use it productively. In my keynote work, my bio mentions the companies I have worked with, the events I have spoken at, and the work Adam and I do through Vulpine Creations. These are genuine accolades — things I have actually done — and the research suggests they meaningfully enhance how audiences experience the performance that follows.
The lesson is that framing does not end when the performance begins. It starts with the introduction, the bio, the context in which the audience encounters you. By the time you open your mouth, the audience has already formed a frame based on everything they have heard and seen. That pre-performance frame shapes every subsequent experience.
Choosing Your Frame
If I could give one piece of advice to someone developing their performing identity, it would be this: choose your frame as deliberately as you choose your effects.
The frame is not an afterthought. It is not the packaging around the real product. It is inseparable from the product. The same method, the same technique, the same procedure can produce wonder, intellectual fascination, or spiritual awe depending entirely on the frame you place around it.
My frame — Austrian strategy consultant who fell down the rabbit hole of magic and mentalism, now integrating psychological principles into keynote presentations — is unusual. It is not the traditional magician’s frame. But it is authentic. It accurately describes who I am and why I do what I do. And that authenticity, I believe, is the most powerful framing device of all.
The research tells us that audiences value entertainment and emotional impact above all. That the frame shapes the emotional impact. And that the most powerful frames are ones the performer genuinely inhabits.
Three tables. Three frames. The same effect. And three completely different experiences.
The frame is not decoration. The frame is the effect.