First Manifesto: Theatrical Magic as an Expression of The Absurd

All mediums have—by their nature—a message that is inherent to its form regardless of the

message expressed by the content produced by that medium.1 As an extension of this, the

message of a medium, which is discernible by the audience, should be considered a part of the

total expression of a text. This suggests that artists should design their work with consideration

to aligning or juxtaposing the content of their work and the nature of their medium—creating

works which contain a deliberate internal harmony or discordance as benefits the central ideas of

a given work. From this, as magicians, the inherent message of theatrical magic is a reasonable

place to start in developing a performance theory for theatrical magic.

A common position held among magicians is that magic inherently expresses a complete and

total power to fulfill any desire. The argument for this is as follows:

1. The product of magic is impossible things, thus magic as a medium is the production of

impossible things.

2. Because there is no distinction between impossible and “more impossible” things, the capacity

of magic is limitless.

3. The impossible things are created by the magician using magic according to their will. Even

when playing a character that interacts with the magic as a victim or passive observer, the

magician behind the scenes still chose to make this magic happen.

4. From these points, we can say that magic as a medium expresses the unrestrained ability to

achieve any desire and the content of magic is a specific use of that ability to achieve a certain

desire.
1
Understanding Media (1964)
This interpretation is a compelling, but ultimately incomplete, interpretation. Its central mistake

is that the interpretation exists almost entirely within the fictions of the content of the medium

and accepts them as true, thus misunderstanding the nature of production in this medium, the

audience’s relationship to that production, and the relationship of the artist to that which they

produce.

The structure of the medium can be made clearer using Gabi Parares’ distinction between the

“Magic I” and the “Conjuror.”2 The “Magic I” and “Conjuror” are respectively the character

onstage and the artist creating magic–which includes the character. The “Conjuror” is the

magician outside the fiction of the performance and is who creates the work by designing and

executing dramatic and deceptive techniques. To them, there is no real magic because they are

using entirely natural tools to create something that appears to be supernatural. The “Magic I” is

the character onstage–a fictional version of the magician that is presented to the audience and

exists within the simulation of impossible things. Even if in performance the “Magic I” says the

magic isn’t real or doesn’t understand/perceive the phenomena as supernatural, the “Magic I”

will always relate to the magic as though it were real because they exist within the deception that

creates the impossible thing. The “Magic I” is unable to step outside of the simulation because

their belief, to whatever degree they do believe, is a part of the deception that creates the

simulation. It should be noted that the “Magic I” is not deluded, but experiences truly

supernatural things by being just as fictitious as the magic itself; in the same way a character in a

novel could be said to really experience the events of that novel. In other words, the “Conjuror”

is the magician switching an object and the “Magic I” is the character onstage truly experiencing

that the object has changed by some supernatural process.

2
Quarterly Issue 4 (2016)
This distinction makes it much easier to see that theatrical magic as a medium is not the

production of an impossible thing, but is instead the production of a simulation which includes a

person interacting with an impossible thing. This is important because it includes multiple

elements of theatrical magic that were previously ignored: that the magic is not real, that the

magician interacting with the magic is not real, and that the magician as an artist is aware of this

relationship. In addition, the audience, who knows that theatrical magic is not truly supernatural,

has all of this information as well and it informs their viewing of the performance. This means

that what the medium communicates to the audience is not one part of this process, but it in its

entirety.

From here, we can start to untangle our previous reading. Rather than representing the unlimited

fulfillment of any desire, we can see that the desires of the magician are still bound by mortal

limitations. The desires of the “Conjuror” are unbounded, but they can only create an illusory

realization of the fulfillment of a desire within the performance and for the “Magic I”--the limit

still holds. In addition, this limitation is perceived by the audience and is central to the

experience of magic–the tension at the heart of every magic performance. Instead of unlimited

power, it seems as though limitation is a more fruitful place to look for the meaning of theatrical

magic.

In the context of theatrical magic, the impossible thing pursued is desirable. At the same time, it

is definitionally unobtainable and the act of pursuing it within the medium of theatrical magic

indicates an awareness on the part of the “conjuror” that it is unattainable. The “Conjuror” is not
deluded, they know that they could never have real magic. However, the act of pursuing the

impossible thing–regardless of the futility of the exercise–expresses and asserts that the desire

for the impossible thing is meaningful. The simulation of the impossible thing represents both

the attainment and the failure to attain the impossible thing. In this way magic expresses Camus’

idea of The Absurd and the absurd actor.3 The absurd man and the “Conjuror” both have desires

that lie outside of the confines of the human condition. Both attempt to reach beyond their

constraints to reach their desire, despite knowing that it’s fundamentally impossible. In this

struggle, the value of the desire is realized and asserted. For the absurd actor, the desire is

incompletely obtained by continual performances; reaching out and inhabiting a thousand

different lives. For the “Conjuror,” it is through the creation of the “Magic I” within increasingly

perfect simulations.

Finally, the political dimension of this interpretation must be acknowledged. Camus’ Absurdism

sees the limitations of the human condition–the meaninglessness of the universe, the limitations

of our knowledge, the inevitability of death, etc.–not as a neutral feature of the landscape, but as

an enemy hostile to human desire; it is an imposing enemy that we push back on with our pursuit

of meaning. This is both an effective metaphor for, and can be a natural component of,

revolutionary politics. As such, theatrical magic is well-suited to explore and express the

liberation of the magician not only from the general human condition, but also their specific

political condition.

3
The Myth of Sisyphus (1942)
In this sense, the closest sibling of theatrical magic might be voguing.4 Voguing is a kind of

dance from ball culture. Its underlying philosophy is that through presenting as though you had

power, status, and wealth the performer–a marginalized person–expresses that there is no

difference between them and the privileged. In this, they defy the notion of sub-humanity

projected onto them. It is a declaration from the oppressed saying “I have within me the entire

fullness of humanity.” Theatrical magic, through its similar structure, has the same capacity for

this expression; a moment that acknowledges the struggle in the mud, but looks past to envision

and bask in the glow of brighter days.

–N. Colwell

January 2023

4
Paris is Burning (1990)