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.Here we may revert to the question of dual presentation, previously discussed.Although the antagonistic elements of surprise and repetition can scarcely becombined to produce a single effect, we may readily combine them in a presentationwhich comprises a dual effect.And beyond doubt that may be done, not only withoutconfusion, but also with a marked amplification of the impression created.From these considerations, the following rule may be deduced:(13) The simultaneous presentation of two independent feats is permissible when oneof them is associated with cumulative effect and the other results in a final surprise.When we think about the matter, it certainly seems rather strange that, although onemay have heard a full description of some magical or dramatic surprise, suchforeknowledge does not detract appreciably from the impression one receives onwitnessing the performance.Even though one may have witnessed a play or a magicalproduction many times, one does not altogether lose the impression intended.Commentators have frequently noted this, in relation to dramatic performances; and,no doubt, the true explanation is that originally given by Marmontel in 1787.He says,in his quaint, old-world French--"La marche de l'action en ecarte la reminiscence:l'impression de ce que l'on voit empêche de reflechir a ce que l'on fait." We are toomuch absorbed in the action to think of previous information.What we see prevents usfrom reflecting upon what we know.A guiding principle adopted by Buatier de Kolta may here be mentioned, withadvantage.On many occasions, de Kolta and one of the present writers had animateddiscussions upon this and similar points.One of his most definite and unalterableopinions was that, if an audience had any idea of what was about to happen, therecould be no surprise and consequently no effect could be made upon the minds ofspectators."An illusionist," he would often remark, "should never tell the public whathttp://thelearnedpig.com.pa/magos/books/ourmagic/009.htm (3 of 6) [4/23/2002 3:25:21 PM] Surprise and Repetitionhe is going to do.If people know what is coming, they will not be surprised.If theyare not surprised, there is no effect.The illusion is worth nothing--it is nothing."In one sense, de Kolta was probably right; but, regarded as a general principle, hisview of the question is open to serious doubt.His argument was based upon premisesfar too narrow.Given ideal conditions, of course, the position he took would beunassailable; but, in everyday life, an abstract proposition of that kind has very littlerelation to the exigencies of practice.With all due deference to the opinion of amagician so eminent as Buatier de Kolta, we contend that in practice one's proceduremust be governed to a great extent by expediency.We have already shown that hardand fast rules cannot be prescribed in any branch of art.Contingent circumstancesmust always to taken into account.Theory, reduced to practice, is a useful guide butnothing more.Divorced from practice, theory becomes a mere will-o'-the-wisp, thepursuit of which is but waste of time for the average man.The essential fallacy of the principle just now discussed may be readily shown by deKolta's own procedure.When, for instance, an illusion is described as "The VanishingLady," or "L'Escamotage d'une Personne Vivante," how can one hope to conceal thefact that the lady will vanish, or that the living person will be subject to jugglery? Thetitle itself prevents any such possibility.Yet, at the same time, the title provides morethan half the attraction exercised upon the public.It would be absurd not to make therevelation, which unavoidably has to be made before complete success can beachieved.There is, however, one direction in which, as we previously indicated, this principlemay be usefully applied.Marmontel gives us the key to this, in the quotation we havemade from his writings.The action in progress before the spectators is that whichmainly determines the impression produced.Previous knowledge or information canhave but little influence on the final result.A really artistic presentation will so largelyabsorb one's attention that the existence or absence of foreknowledge becomes,comparatively speaking, a negligible factor.Thus, there is obviously much reason foravoiding, so far as circumstances permit, the immediate revelation of what is coming.In fact, from the various points recently considered, we may evolve a rule of someoccasional importance:(14) Unless good reason can be shown, never explain, UPON THE STAGE, preciselywhat you are about to accomplish.In effect, this rule represents the true application of de Kolta's advice."Unless goodreason can be shown"--therein lies the whole crux of the matter.But very often goodreason can be shown.At times, indeed, it would be the height of folly for a performernot to explain most fully the precise details of the effect he is about to produce.A caseof this kind, for instance, would arise when the effect is small in actual dimensions butvery startling if completely understood.Every one of us can call to mind effectswhich, unless explicitly described beforehand, would never be thoroughly appreciated.An illustration of this fact is the decanter and handkerchief trick, wherein handkerchiefsuddenly disappears from one glass vessel and reappears in another.The commonhttp://thelearnedpig.com.pa/magos/books/ourmagic/009.htm (4 of 6) [4/23/2002 3:25:21 PM] Surprise and Repetitionexperience of every magician will prove that such a presentation loses nothing bydescribing the effect beforehand.On the contrary, the small dimensions of the articlesemployed may be said to necessitate a complete disclosure of the coming events, inorder to secure their immediate appreciation.Again, in the case of a highly important and sensational illusion, demanding closeattention on the part of the audience, one may often be well advised in making atheoretically premature revelation of one's intentions.When everybody in the civilizedworld has heard all about the thing, there may not be much disadvantage in taking thepresent spectators into one's confidence.They know what is coming, and the effectmay perhaps be greatly enhanced if they are told exactly what to expect.In certaincases of this kind, it is true, the performer might produce unqualified surprise in thefirst few audiences to whom he presents the effect.But, after that, such surprisebecomes impossible
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