Magic, the art of dreaming par excellence. I'm sure we've all taken up magic to try and get as close as possible to that mystery which at first seemed impenetrable. The emotion aroused was such that it led us to take an interest in it, to practice it ourselves, so that we in turn could pass on this emotion to our spectators.
Yet the story is more subtle, and more deceitful, than that. As we delve deeper into this art form, and begin to discover its secrets, we become more and more disillusioned, and as we sink deeper into its abysses, we lose our initial sense of wonder, the very wonder that got us started in the first place.
In this sense, the figure of the magician is that of a cursed man. Cursed because, as he seeks to learn more and more about the art he so cherishes, he loses that spark, that ability to feel the magic emotion. We can, of course, try to stand back and ignore the many methods and tricks we know, but the fact remains that the deeper we delve into the intricacies of magic, the more we lose our ability to marvel at it.
And yet it's a serious enough matter to be emphasized. If we, in turn, wish to convey this magical emotion to the spectator, we must be able to immerse ourselves in it, and thus feel it, in order to best transmit it.
Spectators don't realize how lucky they are to be mystified. But man is constantly searching for what he doesn't have, and it seems almost human to try to understand what eludes us. The few dreamers who let themselves be carried away by the act are undoubtedly in the minority compared to the others who come for the challenge of understanding the "trick". It's up to the magician to put together an act that's sufficiently polished for this "suspension of disbelief" to work, just as it does in theater or film.
However, unlike the seventh art, where you don't have to wonder how special effects were achieved, magic has this element of "challenge" about it, which is also reflected in the term "prestidigitation", where the agility of the fingers seems to sum up the trick. So, in the end, it's not a question of knowing whether what we see is real or not, but of knowing how it works. The term "illusion" also sets the tone: the aim is to deceive and "delude" the spectator.
How can we continue to practice our art without losing its flavor? How can we best convey these emotions without being able to feel them fully again? We can come close, of course, but perhaps the solution lies elsewhere.
Perhaps optical illusions are an interesting way of solving these problems: we know we're going to be fooled, we may even know exactly how the optical illusion works, but it will always work on us. In this way, it seems possible to approach a form of magic here and there whose effect remains insensitive depending on whether or not we know the method.
Could this be the first step on a larger path that would allow the magician to stop suffering his own curse? The next time a spectator asks you to explain an effect, think again, and consider how lucky he is not to know any of your secrets.
Photo credit: Photo bank by Vecteezy