This essay is reprinted with permission from Mr. Haydn’s “Chicago Surprise” manuscript.
It was first published in the newsletter of the Blackstone Ring of the IBM.

n magic convention contests and in the meetings at local rings, much is made of  the importance of originality.  It seems to me that this concern is sometimes misdirected, and most certainly so when it comes to young or beginning magicians.

It is essential that those who want to learn magic start by copying or imitating others.  There is nothing wrong with this—provided of course, that the effects and routines being copied have been published by the originators.  In fact, I don’t believe one can learn to be a good magician except by imitation.

A beginning guitar player isn’t told to make up original songs.  He first learns to play other people’s work.  Neither should a beginning magician be asked to do original tricks.

The way that patter goes with the presentation of the trick, the feel for routining, the subtleties of misdirection—these are all learned best by the student taking a great routine and learning to do it the way it was created by a competent working performer.  I have too often seen magic students learn a classic routine and then immediately begin to muck around with it for the sake of “originality.”

Often, one doesn’t understand the subtleties of a routine until he or she has performed it many times in front of people.  It is only from faithfully reproducing the routine in front of an audience that one begins to see why certain moves or patter lines are structured or placed the way the originator had them.  Without spending time performing the routine the way it was created, the student abandons all the experience, knowledge, and thought that went into its creation.

Routines should not be changed for the sake of being “original.”  Originality should come in when there is some need—when the routine as written doesn’t suit the personality of the performer, his performing situations, or has some inconsistency or fault that the performer finds and corrects.  This should come after the routine has been explored in front of an audience many times.

All the great magicians had to learn their craft somewhere.  They all began by copying the work of those that they admired.

In Zen brush painting [as well as with most classic Western masters —TW], the student would apprentice with a master for eight years.  Each morning the master would let the students watch him create a few paintings, and for the rest of the day, the students would try to exactly copy those paintings with as much speed and accuracy as possible.  In the evening, the teacher would look over their work and give them suggestions for improvement in their technique.

Students were not encouraged or allowed to be “original.”  At the end of the eight years, the students were sent out into the world.  At this point they would have absorbed the point of view, values, and tastes of the instructor.  They would have an appreciation and understanding of their art.

The idea was that if they could capture whatever image the master showed them perfectly, then they could capture any original image that came into their heads.  If they were not original thinkers, then they would always be good copyists and could make a living at that.  If they had original ideas, then they would have the skill to realize them.

In magic, I have often seen very clever and original material that suffered from a lack of knowledge of the basics of the craft.  I prefer to see classic or familiar magic done well, than original magic that fails to fool or to entertain.  Much can be gained from reading the philosophy of magic in books such as Maskelyne and Devant’s Our Magic (my favorite magic book), but it is only in the experience of performing that these lessons really begin to make sense and can be applied.

There is nothing wrong with a magic act that lacks originality but is professionally and competently done.  In music, this would be the equivalent of the cover bands that play for weddings and similar events.  These groups are respectable and serve a need.  The lack of originality will keep them from going beyond these sorts of venues, but within this area, they are perfectly fine.

Many magicians would fall under a similar category.  Not everyone has the skill, originality, and dedication of a Lance Burton, but magic that is well executed, and performed entertainingly is always going to be well received.  As the magician grows in his understanding of the art, his need for originality will grow as well.

I would like to see magic organizations encourage young magicians to learn the classics.  Too often, the need for the hobbyist to see something new and different regardless of its quality overtakes the need for entertaining, well-executed magic.  The great street magician Jim Cellini hosted a famous get-together of close-up performers in Greensboro, NC a few years back.  Slydini, Frank Garcia, Bob Sheets, Karl Norman and many other top performers attended.

The performers concentrated on their most commercial magic, without regard to repetition.  We saw many different variations of the card on ceiling, the cups and balls, and other classic effects.  It was an incredible experience.  Watching fine performers do their own versions of the same routines provided a hugely rewarding lesson in the art of magic, and a resource for future ideas.

The contests for young magicians might best be structured around classics like the linking rings, cups and balls, etc.  Within the context of a cups and balls contest, for example, a premium should be placed on skill, technique, and entertainment value.  Originality should be relegated to its rightful place-as an important but not necessarily the most important criteria.

—Whit Haydn, 9/8/99