Hospitality and Magic
I enjoy curating things to make people happy. Sometimes that’s a show. Sometimes it’s a party. And sometimes it’s just a popsicle.
More than 30 years ago, when we lived in Los Angeles, my wife Jennifer and I decided to have a few friends over to celebrate Thanksgiving. I think there were eight or ten of us around that first table. Jen and I did all the cooking. They were magician and comedian pals who didn’t have family in town and who might otherwise have had pressed turkey and powdered mashed potatoes at Denny’s that day. We didn’t have family there either, but these people were our chosen family. Our friends were thankful to be there. And we were thankful that they wanted to be with us.
It made Jen and I happy to provide a spot where we could all eat, laugh, and be together. A couple of years later we had enough people to fill two tables at our Thanksgiving repast. Jennifer started lovingly (I believe) referring to the guests as “The Shut-ins.” We kept up this tradition for the 10 years we lived in Los Angeles and when we moved to Las Vegas we did the same thing. We started with one table the first year in Vegas—12 people gathering together to be grateful for each other. The next year a few of our LA friends drove across the desert to be with us. Our little shindig grew each year—20 people, then 30 people the next year. 30 became 50. Friends started flying in from across the country to be with us. 50 people became 75.
At our 2010 Thanksgiving Gene Anderson asked me if I thought it would be okay if after dinner he performed a trick he was working on for everyone. It was a big hit. The next year we had a more formal show with four acts. The next year a couple of singer friends who had been coming since the initial Vegas celebration asked if the show was limited to magicians, and so the show became a true variety show.
Other Vegas friends who celebrated Thanksgiving with their families started asking if they could stop by after their family dinner just to be there for the show and slice of Jen’s pie. Friends started flying in from overseas; they had no concept of what an American Thanksgiving was, they just wanted to be part of what we were building.
Even though last year we had 96 people for dinner and 120 for the after-dinner show and dessert we still managed to have everyone seated at tables and eating at the same time. It has evolved into a big production. And we love doing it. I mean, really, really love doing it. It is something we start planning for months in advance.
What the hell does this (vaguely self-serving) Thanksgiving history have to do with magic in general and the ComClave in particular you may legitimately be asking yourself? As our Thanksgiving has grown I have begun to regard it as a “show.” Not just the actual show part, but also the part where we make an advance plan for how we’re gonna accommodate all our guests, the part where people arrive, the part where they get their first drink, the part where they say to themselves, “Hey, I didn’t know THAT person was going to be here,” the part where they help set up tables and chairs, the part where they help rearrange the chairs into theater seating and set up a stage for the show, the part where we all sit around in various groupings well into the night swapping stories and laughing.
We’re opening not just our home to these people, we’re opening our hearts. And I believe/hope the guests sense that and open their hearts as well. The hosts and the guests create an experience together. Just like the best magic shows. I feel a tad sheepish saying this because I’m afraid it will come off as corny, but when I perform I strive to open my heart to my guests. I strive to let them know that I’m glad they’re there and that what I have created is not just designed to boost my ego, but is designed as something we all experience together. Yes, there’s a plan beforehand, but that doesn’t mean everything goes according to that plan.
A good party is an experience. A good magic show is an experience. It is possible to attend a show and just sit passively in the dark. It’s possible to attend a party and just sit by yourself in a corner. But whether it’s my party or my show I feel it’s my job to entice you to participate. I want you to feel like you’re welcome and that I’m super glad you’re there. It’s okay if there are moments of uncomfortableness or unease, but by the time you leave I want you to stop by, shake my hand (or give me a hug) and express to me that you’re glad you came.
Another thing about our Thanksgiving celebration that seems to correlate with doing a magic show: Behind the scenes there is tons of planning and hard work to make this experience come off—days and weeks and months. But I think it’s not fun for the guests if you say to them, “You can’t believe all the work that goes in to making this party happen.” If you want your guests to truly enjoy themselves then the whole operation should seem effortless. And I believe a similar dynamic is taking place during a good magic show. The audience shouldn’t have any real idea how much preparation, practice, and rehearsal has gone into what seems to them an effortless performance.
When people come to my show I want them to feel involved even if they’re not one of the handful of folks I choose to come on stage to participate. When people come to my house for an event I want them to feel included, and to feel like I threw this party with them in mind.
I can’t wait to welcome you all into my home. See you soon.