So why is it so important?

Photo by MichaelERay

There are two distinct ways to approach performing on the street, there’s the way of the Street Performer and the way of the Busker.  (These definitions are mine by the way. Many people use the term busking and street performing to describe the same thing and they are as right as I am.)  The Way of Street Performer is to define your pitch and draw a crowd, body by body if need be.  The way of the busker on the other hand is to sit to the side of a flow of pedestrians and work to a constant stream of changing faces.  A street performer will deliver a show that has a set structure, an act that will allow the performer to move away from their set routines,  play with the audience and improvise when things happen outside of their control.  The busker will play a continuous, repeating set without ever interacting with the passers-by.   A performer is always looking at how they can give more to the audience,  constantly assessing feedback, the busker is happy to do what they have always done.  Finally at the end of their act a street performer will deliver a bottling speech, a call to action that asks for a specific contribution from everyone involved.  A busker simply accepts what ever donation is dropped into the hat.

Performers draw in – Buskers push out.
Performers are accountable – Buskers are invisible.
Performers engage – Buskers are isolated.
Performers are pro-active – Buskers stagnate.
Performers are artists – Buskers are doing a job.

This isn’t a post about street performing, it’s about whatever you’re doing.

So what are you doing?   Are you busking or performing?

So here’s the challenge, the next time you perform switch on all of your senses and place yourself firmly in the moment.  Listen and watch your audience,  look them in the eyes.  Observe your handling of props and people and become acutely aware of everything that makes up your entire performance. If you can do this then there’s a chance that you will reconnect some of those internal switches that you have had ignored for so long and the joy of what you do will be apparent again, to you and to your audience.

I first heard of Jim through Jerry Sadowitz’s “Crimp” magazine, and then after talking to a number of long standing Covent Garden performers I realised that I had to meet this guy.  Jim had a huge influence on my life even though I only met him a few times, and for a number of years before we met I tried to track him down as he traveled through Europe.  On more than one occasion I would arrive at a pitch to be told he had been there the week before but had moved on.  Eventually I met Jim at FISM in Dresden.  I had heard he was lecturing so took a detour from Prague and worked the street outside the convention as I couldn’t afford the fee to get in.  It was a great experience, a number of top names stopped to watch the show, Jay Marshall stayed on and was gracious enough to thank me for doing a good job and one kind soul dropped a FISM pass into the hat.

Even now the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I think about the excitement I felt as I walked into the bar of the convention looking for the man I had wanted to meet for so long.  He was surrounded by “real” magicians and to be honest looked a bit bewildered by the fuss they were making about him.  I managed to press myself to the front of the small crowd and extended my hand to him, “Hi Jim, I just wanted to say hello..”, before I had finished my sentence he said ” Are you the guy who’s been working the street?  Sit down.”  He shifted along to make room for me to sit and I sat there, a fellow street performer, kindred spirits, acknowledged by the best in the world! It doesn’t get any better than that.

It wasn’t until I went to the large festival held by the lake in Zurich that I really got to know Cellini.  Almost every night for two weeks I would sit with him and talk magic, street performing and life.  He gave me some great advice and was always happy to share memories and stories.  I learnt the Slydini silks from Jim, I already knew how to do the trick, but like I say I LEARNT the effect from him. It was during those 2 weeks that I changed my whole outlook on magic and street performing and that was due to Cellini.  He wasn’t performing at the festival himself but instead he sat and held court in one of the most beautiful settings I have worked in, absorbing the energy of the festival and reflecting it back in his own way.  One particular evening as we sat drinking a beer Jim was approached by some locals who clearly knew him by reputation and they asked if he would show them a trick – Jim obliged by performing the Slydini one coin routine and to this day it remains in my memory as  the most magical presentation of any trick that I have seen.  His whole physicality changed and he exuded the strength and confidence that only comes from years of performing, the moves were fluid and the effect crystal clear.  Set against the backdrop of the lake on a beautiful summers evening it was pure magic. I stand corrected – it doesn’t get any better than that.

The following year I repeated my visit to Zurich with my old street performing friend Gary Animal and this time Gazzo was there.  I hadn’t met Gazzo before but he knew that I had been doing the Cups based heavily on his routine so what could have been an awkward moment was eased by the fact that Jim had told Gazzo that I was one of the good guys and not just a copycat. I still kick myself that I have no photo’s from my time in Zurich and that year what a photo it would have been, however I wasn’t there to make memories I was a street performer, with other street performers and we were just living the life.  It doesn’t get any better than that.

I also have Jim to thank for introducing me to some of the best magicians in the UK.  He was at the International convention  and again I came into the bar, as an outsider,  to see Jim sitting with some of the best magicians in Britain.  These were guys that I had always wanted to be “in with”, and it I can’t help smiling when I think of how Jim called me over to sit with them while they looked on thinking “who the f**k is this guy.” Thanks Jim, they don’t come any better than you.

So, Jim Cellini,  I tip my hat to you and wish you well on your new journey.  Although we never worked on the same sidewalk together your influence is in every performance I give.  Thank you for everything and you will be missed.

There is something very special about the use of energy by really talented performers.. One of my favorite comedian is (was) Bill Hicks, he would walk on stage and say nothing for a very time, the energy in the audience would move form up beat to slightly uncomfortable and yet the focus always remained on Mr Hicks.  It’s a tactic that magicians have used, (Max Maven is an obvious example),  and it is something that I try to do myself in my own cabaret.  It takes nerve and charisma to carry it off, you must be in control at all time because if you can’t pull the audience back from the brink then you will have lost them forever.  Also don’t confuse energetic with energy and intensity.  A highly energetic performance can have absolutely no intensity,  but an intense performance will have different degrees of energy released or more importantly held back.  High energy does not mean high energy output, it means a reservoir of energy being controlled and channelled.  Shake a bottle of pop and leave the lid on – the bottle contains a huge amount of energy waiting to be released and if you take the lid off quickly then the result is a mess – that’s the basis of most comedy magic acts.

The other aspect of this slow burn is that you have the opportunity to take the audience on an emotional journey – when you come bouncing out with that “I’m a magician grin” plastered all over your face, the only way the energy can go is down, unless of course you can maintain that level of “open” energy in which case both you and your audience will be knackered by the end.  Now you may argue that in the world of cinema many great action films start with an extended high energy sequence, (the Bond movies etc.), but their goal is different to a 30 minute live performance.  In a movie you can have multiple story lines and weave different threads of energy throughout a much longer time-scale.  It’s not the same, the magician can’t clutter up the performance with too many multiple layers it must be a relatively simple progression working towards a climax.  Importantly the climax needn’t be energetic but it must be full of latent energy.  Some of the most powerful endings to shows have been picked out by a single spot light, condensing the energy of the room into one small spot, sucked in and focused……..the energy is still there but it’s being contained and if you’re successful it will be released in the form of audience reaction.

Closing a show with an intense piece after you have won over the audience however is relatively simple compared to opening a show in the same way in front of an unknown crowd.  It takes great showmanship and huge amounts of self belief – Gazzo has both.

I spent a week with legends who are responsible for 80% of my professional repertoire.

I worked on new material.

These things are connected.

My failure to deliver the goods at my old stomping ground was partly due to the fact I followed shows that seemed strangely familiar and left me feeling a touch empty inside.  Not everything but everyone was new to me.  There was a highlight however,  the softly spoken Kenny Lightfoot who set the bar almost as high as he could scale cards.  I can’t blame the string of cups and balls shows for my demise,  they just made me feel like I was “doing a job” and that is always dangerous for a performer. Ego and expectation were the real problem.  I left no richer in any respect.

I knew that when I performed in Lisbon this year I would be alongside Gazzo, David Williamson and Richard McDougal.  My street show has it’s origins with Gazzo,  my close-up with Williamson and Richards’ opinion is important to me.  I approached the event with that important mix of fear and excitement.  During the week I saw Gazzo, who isn’t use to working for non-english speaking crowds, perform a gentle set for a crowd who couldn’t understand his normally sharp wit.  I saw Williamson perform in the streets feeling his way in this alien environment and I saw Richard entertain with an entirely new act, the only thing he was certain of was the costume.  It was fantastic.  Great performers stepping into the unknown and succeeding because they had the talent and humility to let the environment direct them.  No ego, no expectation.

My experience in Covent Garden meant I didn’t want to do the usual street show, my companions in Lisbon meant I couldn’t do it.  So I performed new routines, rehearsing on the streets just like I did nearly 20 years ago, feeding off the reactions from the crowds and absorbing the input of all of my fellow performers. Some of the routines worked and will grow, others will never see the light of day again.  This is why I became a performer, this is the reason I love what I do.   I also made suggestions to the less experienced street performers and they listened.  I watched their shows develop over the week, it was genuinely exciting.

I distilled an opinion from all of this and that is if you have the opportunity try something that has a chance of failing.