Every close-up set begins one of two ways -- either you know nobody, or someone already wants to see you. The approach is completely different, and I learned the hard way which one I was not prepared for.
Read MoreThe hardest part of close-up magic is not the magic. It is the three seconds between deciding to approach a group and opening your mouth. I have ruined more first impressions than I care to count.
Read MoreBy the eighth table of the evening, I was bored of my own material. If I was bored, the audience could tell. That is when I learned that variety in a walk-around set is not a luxury -- it is how you survive.
Read MoreI used to think the strongest opener should be used at every table. Then I realized the opener is not for the audience -- it is for me. Rotating it every three tables keeps me sharp when the evening gets long.
Read MoreThe moment I stopped pulling props from my pockets and started borrowing objects from the audience, everything changed. Their investment went from polite to visceral. Because when the impossible happens to something that belongs to you, it is no longer a trick -- it is personal.
Read MoreThe moment I stopped relying on table surfaces and started putting impossible things directly into people's hands, the reactions changed completely.
Read MoreA stage performer gets one shot at an audience. A close-up performer gets a dozen shots a night. The math changes everything.
Read MoreThe cups and balls might be the oldest trick in magic. For me, it became the bridge between performing for six people and performing for six hundred.
Read MoreThe worst close-up performers announce themselves. The best ones materialize inside a conversation that is already happening.
Read MoreThere is a line between approaching strangers with something magical and harassing them with your hobby. I spent a long time on the wrong side of it.
Read MoreMagicians despised David Blaine's early TV specials. I think they missed the point entirely -- and understanding why changed how I approach close-up performance.
Read MoreEvery close-up performer has had that sinking moment when something goes wrong and the spectator's eyes tell you everything their mouth won't. Here's what I've learned from my worst close-up failures.
Read MoreSomeone asks you to repeat the trick. It's a compliment disguised as a trap. Here's how I learned to navigate the most dangerous moment in close-up magic.
Read MoreI started in magic with cards. They were my first love, my constant companion, my identity. And they nearly killed my walk-around career before it started.
Read MoreA mysterious book from 1902, written by a pseudonymous author, reshaped my entire understanding of what sleight of hand is supposed to accomplish. Not the moves -- the philosophy.
Read MoreI spent years learning card magic from random tutorials before discovering the systematic education that Roberto Giobbi built. It reorganized everything I thought I knew.
Read MoreClose-up magic is built for an audience of one or two people standing a meter away. So what do you do when you are alone in a hotel room with nobody to perform for?
Read MoreI walked into a magic shop expecting to buy a deck of cards. I walked out having learned things about close-up magic that no video tutorial could ever teach.
Read MoreI showed my mother footage of Al Flosso performing the Miser's Dream and watched her eyes fill with tears. That was the moment I understood what close-up magic could really be.
Read MoreEvery piece of stand-up magic I perform started as something I worked out on a close-up pad. The transition from table to stage changed everything about how I think about scale.
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