Other Visions

A Journey Back Into Darkness, Part II
by Steve Osborne

Since my last article, I have read, and thus have grown, quite a bit, especially in knowledge pertaining to the form of magic in which I would like to perform. The material I have since collected has been interesting, informative, esoteric and difficult to find, which, I have since learned, translates into “extremely expensive.” Yet, I continue to devour the works at an alarming rate, at least it is alarming as far as my bank account and wife are concerned.

I was planning on writing about theatrical character development, or, at least, my perspective on that subject; however, there are many works by individuals much better qualified than myself that deal with this theme. After a little reflection, I thought I would write further on matters in which I feel comfortable and which may apply to those of whom may be seeking a similar path: psychological impact and cultural response and how it effects character development and magical performances. I would like to share my observations on how a performance's psychological impact has influenced both my character's progression and how it has ultimately affected me, as a person.

When a performer deviates from an audience's expected magical experience they create a whole new realm of trust between themselves and the spectators. For instance, if I worked on a stage in Las Vegas as a magician, the audience's expectation would control the performance's overall psychological impact. In fact, their belief is suspended to the exact point of their expectations; in other words, the spectators anticipate that the magician will work exclusively in illusion and trickery, which creates a barrier through which it is difficult to initiate an intimate connection. In corporate terms, this is known as buy-in. And, an audience's buy-in is, for all intents and purposes, limited in such a situation.

This lesson was recently illustrated to me during several of my smaller performances. I noticed that when I pull out a deck of cards and say, “Pick any card,” the audience knows what is going to generally happen. Regardless of what is done with their chosen card, or any of the cards for that matter, their reaction is: “How did you do that?” Implicit in this question, and rightly so, is the understanding that the trick could be learned by the spectator if only s/he knew the method. Thus, the psychological impact is limited by their preconceived ideas. It was only when I operated outside their comfort level did I notice an exponentially stronger response. These stronger reactions were indications of a level of connection that transcended anything to which I had previously been exposed. My performances became a personal, intimate story between me and the audience through which I could not feel or notice any boundaries; much like the hypnotist, I had removed the obstacles that a person normally maintains that are there to create an objective distance.

For example, when I had used a standard psycho-kinetic (PK) device to manipulate a metal object, the spectator's suspicion was naturally aroused and their astonishment was contained to a detached level, after all, it is in the realm of possibility that metal can move with the help of certain devices; however, when I used the same PK device to manipulate objects that could not, in their experience, move without some sort of outside, and unexplainable, phenomenon, I achieved a completely different outcome. Reactions to the latter performance ranged from stunned disbelief to outright fear. Some individuals went so far as to avoid speaking with me for awhile.

Going one step further into the realm of psychological impact, I performed a stigmata effect for somebody I knew which caused them to cry. Once again, I had removed the psychological barriers of expectation, which allowed me to connect with them on an extremely personal level; in fact, had I not noticed the emotional impact the magic was having on the person and continued with what I had planned, it might have gone a lot differently, (and need I say, more poorly?); however, as it was, I remained open to the spectator's signals and was able to adjust my performance accordingly. Even so, when it was all said and done, the person was still emotionally affected.

After a few more instances in which I noticed the same, or similar, reactions, I started thinking about this newfound responsibility I now possessed. And make no mistake, it is a responsibility. This insight had, and continues to have, a profound impact on not only my character's development, but, has, obviously, had an impact on my personal growth, as well.

This approach to magical psychology has had a direct bearing on my character creation and development. I am not going to be so pedantic as to define “good” or “evil;” however, there are definite cultural norms by which the magician, as a person, whether s/he is in persona or not, will be judged. By approaching magical performances in a manner which is beyond normal expectations, we are setting ourselves up to be judged according to the nearest cultural experience with which they have knowledge. Because of this insight, I had to do a lot of introspection and make a decision as to just what type of person I would like to portray. My experience has taught me that this different approach to magic becomes indelibly tied to the “actual” me, regardless of whether or not I had planned it. This journey seems to be one epiphany after another!

In my studies as an Inupiaq descendant, I have learned about how the Inupiaq shaman, or medicine person (both men and women could be shaman), interacted with their society and what their level of influence meant to the culture. Just by changing my own paradigm and approach, I have placed myself in such a position that I could, if I so desired, move into the same societal function, with all its attendant responsibilities, advantages and privileges, as the shaman before me. To be honest, before I understood what this journey truly meant, that is exactly what I desired. The lesson I learned was, once again, illustrated by a conversation with a person; this person had a great-grandfather who was one of the last, true Inupiaq shaman in recorded history. Interestingly enough, he died while performing a magical effect for the ancestors of our village. The effect was one which he had done countless times before, a “simple” knife-through-the-throat routine. For whatever reason, it did not go as he anticipated, with the consequence being that he bled to death. The look on this person's face was indescribable when I mentioned that I knew the “secret” of that effect and that I have, in my arsenal (so to speak), something very similar. That reaction is the basis for this article, it was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Needless to say, I immediately re-evaluated my desire to emulate the shaman of old. The consequences of my actions were having a noticeable effect on my status in the community; while this is generally true of anybody in any given community, most “sane” individuals do not claim to be able to talk to spirits, read the spectator's thoughts about loved ones or the deceased, divine the future or any other such things. Thus, I found myself in a reactive position, responding to their reactions. Personally, I do not like to be reactive in such a position, I find that I lose what little control I have, even if that control is illusory.

You, the reader, may be wondering how I changed their perceptions in order to keep a good standing in the community. It was through some quick thinking, I can tell you! Everybody in the area either knows me or knows of me because I live in a small village; as a result of this, most everyone knows that I have eclectic tastes. And because I was aware of this general knowledge, I quickly chose to portray my magic as something I picked up as a result of my travels. I emphasized that I learned the magic peripherally, as Iglaaq (a traveler), rather than as an initiate. Most everybody knows that I practice what I call “stage” magic, i.e. coin vanishes, card tricks, etc., so there is a level of expectation when I pull out the typical tools of the trade. However, through some hard work, I have convinced people that, although I am privy to esoteric knowledge in the arcane and that I know certain rituals and incantations, it is not out of a desire to delve into the occult's murky depths to seek personal power, it is, rather through an interest in the esoteric that I find this knowledge; this interest is something to which they can relate, it is something through which we share a connection. I have thus positioned myself in such a manner that I am able to pro-actively manage their expectations, at least, to the extent possible.

In the end, that is the key to understanding the psychological impact of our work: managing audience expectations. This is done, in large part, through deliberate, or maybe not so deliberate, character development; it is a result of how we envision our performance, which establishes their anticipation of the outcomes. Because those of whom practice magic in this manner approach their performances differently, by reaching outside normal cultural expectations, the psychological barriers that are usually in place, which are there to keep a certain distance between performer and audience, are lowered, allowing for an intimate, personal experience. This experience is a result of many factors, among which is the magician's performing character's personality, which sets the tone of interaction. I have learned that, regardless of how the character is developed, because psychological barriers are crossed, it is imperative that the magician truly understands the impact their character will have on the audience.

In this journey to become a storyteller who uses magic to illustrate lessons in the story, I have entered a shadowy realm that is constantly in flux depending on the mercurial composition of my audience. I have found that I must quickly and decisively adjust my delivery based upon spectator reactions. It has been a sharp learning curve; however, it is a lesson well learned, and appreciated. As I finish this article, I am getting excited to read another OOP (out of print) book, recently arrived, that I hope will help me continue on my selected path of discovery and application. It is my hope that you, the reader, can benefit from my trials and observations as I have benefited from those who have gone on before me. This is my way of paying it forward and honoring my ancestors who truly believed in the effects of magic in everyday Life.

Steve Osborne