The way we were

I think this may sound as though I’m being circled by the black dog again but I’m not.  I remain hopeful.  But my sanguine cynic is saying how different things are and are going to be for a long time. The way we were may never come back.  As I tell this story that you may have heard before, you may have watched before, try, as I have, to replay it under the new post-Covid rules of social engagement.

My favourite closeup magic involves a child, a silver dollar, a small pink silk and a crystal. I love/loved (how the addition of that final 'd' feels so portentous) performing the routine, often to a wonderful and evocative piece of music by Nick Webb of Acoustic Alchemy, called 'Positive Thinking.' A song for our times indeed.  A lot happens in the routine in less than four minutes.  There was a hidden story and the props themselves spoke as they changed, appeared and disappeared, from empty hands back to empty hands.  It was a story without words and the child was made central to its plot, witnessed by the audience.  I was proud of the routine which developed and grew over many years.  I performed it with a child stepping up into the arena with me and a very close, unspoken relationship grew between us which was key to its success.  We breathed the same air and occasionally touched as I guided her hands to join me in the magic. Choosing the right child was central and was usually a girl, though not always. Shy children were always preferred as there was an opportunity for them to grow within the experience.  Someone wrote to me about watching the routine and although I have quoted it in a previous blog chapter, here is that review again:

‘We witnessed and felt a moment of pure magic during the Malpas Yesteryear Rally this year and I am writing to you because it occurred during your final show of the weekend. At the start of this performance of your close up magic with coin, crystal ball and handkerchief you chose a little girl to assist you. It was a silent performance so I don't think we ever knew her name.

The moment that little ball vanished and the sadness on your face at its loss we were both drawn to this little girl. The sadness she shared and worry for you was palpable and in all honesty from that moment I'm not entirely sure what magic you were performing as I was, without exception, captured by the absolute focus on her face. This changed from worry to concentration and hope then wonder when she was guided to waggle her fingers in the direction of your closed hand and then she realised she was going to be part of the actual real life magic and make something appear from nothing. No words will ever be able to express that expression we saw but it is something that I believe will always stay with us and I'm not ashamed to say that along with goosebumps we both welled up a little at how adorable this moment was. We are convinced that she will go on to have a fondness in her heart for magic for the rest of her days and quite possibly will have started learning magic for herself already.

We have been captured by the warm embrace of your shows for many years now from the very first time at Hollowell Steam and Heavy Horse Show seven-ish years ago to Malpas this year. I hope that everyone who experiences your show has at least just a moment, even a flicker of the magic that little girl expressed so openly on her face. If they do, there is hope for wonder in the world once again.’

How would all that happen post Covid-19?  It just couldn't.  The child's parents would have to give permission for it to happen.  We would both have to wear masks, stay 6ft 2 ins apart (as would all strangers in the audience) and we would all have to sanitise our hands after the experience. Of course I'm joking.  But am I?

So I have been trying to capture some of the magic on video but have failed terribly.  Not only because of my inexperience with the technology although certainly there is a great deal to learn. I curse as I fail often to get anywhere near a performance I can feel proud of in any way and then the technology fails leaving me angry, frustrated and desperate in a way I never am with the child in live performance, no matter what goes wrong with the presentation, as it has from time to time.  So here’s the rub.  It’s not about what I do.  What I do is why we are there at that moment, the child and I, but the success of what happens is who we are in the human dynamic of that live relationship, captured forever in that moment.  It can never be achieved via a camera and screen.  Not ever. As King Lear says, ‘Never, never, never, never, never’.

So what I need to know is whether there is any point in even trying.  If you have some suggestions and ideas do please write to me.  I will reply.  All my instinct says the way we were has gone, maybe forever, and even trying to recreate it on video is not right for Mr A.

Many people (myself included) may hope for a return to that different kind of normal I wrote about a couple of weeks ago, where live performance in the close proximity to others can begin again but, if I am being totally honest, that hope is shaky at best. I feel I would be better employed once again, as I have done a few times through this extraordinary life of mine, to think again, start again and decide where I am travelling to next.

All the best from a road, on the other side of the screen, near you,

Mr Alexander