Rule 24: Directions to Carnegie Hall.
In 1911 Nevil Maskelyne and David Devant, two of the premier magicians of the day, published Our Magic. In the first section, The Art in Magic, Maskelyne outlines 24 rules for magic performance. After well over 100 years, are these rules still relevant, and do they apply to more than magic?
24: Never present in public any performance which has not been most perfectly rehearsed, first in detail and, finally, as a whole.
I’m going to use this space to talk about two particular aspects of rehearsal. One of them Our Magic goes into in great detail and the other is not mentioned once. However, before I do, I’m going to recommend having a look at what I wrote in LinkedIn on this as well, as it looks at the specifics of rehearsal.
Firstly, something Our Magic talks about a lot: Nerves.
Rehearsal is not going to get rid of nerves. Before you rehearse enough, you’re going to be nervous because you don’t know what you’re doing. After you rehearse a lot, you’re going to be nervous because you care about what you’re doing. That’s not to say you don’t care before you’ve rehearsed, but your fear of messing up is greater. In short, nerves are natural.
In Our Magic there’s a story about two army officers, one who no knows fear, the other who does. It finishes with this:
“The man who knows no fear requires no courage. His education is defective. He is confident because he lacks knowledge. The man who understands danger, and faces it all the same, has true courage. He has been properly educated. He knows the extent of his responsibilities and has learned how to do his duty as it should be done. That is the kind of man to whom the title of artist may be justly assigned, not to the man rendered confident by ignorance and mental obtuseness.”
The greatest performer will always have that frisson of fear, that nervous energy. You learn to live with it, but it’s that voice inside you, reminding you of all the mistakes you’ve made in the past and of all the problems which could happen that you have no control over. But that’s okay. We deal with it, and we move on. You’ve just got to trust in your material and remember: you care about your performance more than anyone in the audience. Even if it’s awful beyond imagination, reflect, rework, and redo. You’ll get there.
Now for the thing that Our Magic doesn’t address; New Material Gigs. This is something many professional comedians do. You’ll see tours either billed as such, or go to comedy nights where you never know who will be on but do know it gets big names trying new stuff out. That’s because they don’t know exactly how their material is going to work. They need an audience to fine tune it. But if the biggest names in comedy don’t know how an audience will react to their material, how are we supposed to know? The truth is, we don’t. But depending on your target audience you might be able to make an educated guess. A polite church breakfast club are likely to respond differently to a comedy club at midnight. An audience at a pharmaceutical conference are a lot less likely to heckle and fidget than a 7 year old’s birthday party.
The more formal the situation, the easier it is to rely purely on rehearsal. So, in Our Magic, they are writing about performing in Victorian style theatres and to crowds that were much more accustomed to going out to see a live performance. Audiences knew their roles and acted accordingly, and so performers were able to take many things into account. If you’re preparing to deliver the keynote speech at a conference, you are in a similar situation. You can gauge in your mind roughly the kind of reaction you’ll receive. On the other hand, you wouldn't expect the same kind of restraint if you’re about to step out in front of a stand-up crowd. Whatever your intended audience, rehearsal matters.
TFT
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