Posted by Ian on 2009-06-27
in Anecdote
My friend Noel Britten recently did a lecture at The Magic Circle, the theme of which was essentially: “You’re not as good as you think you are.” His argument was that magicians assume they are better than the majority of their fellow performers. Of course if everybody thinks that than you have an illogical inconsistency.
I’m quite certain I fall into that category of thinking that I’m superior in some way to most of my colleagues. But occasionally one’s self-delusion is brought back down to earth.
It happened to me recently when doing a show at a very traditional club comprising the type of variety entertainment you don’t often get to see these days. There were only four acts on but between us we would be doing around 3 hours. With a couple of half hour intervals thrown in the show would be lasting from 8 pm to midnight.
The acts comprised a multi-instrumentalist (40 minutes), a mainstream comedian (45 minutes), a tribute singer (60 minutes) and me (35 minutes). The venue was relatively typical in that people were seated on tables and chairs at the front; but at the back was a bar – where about twenty people were standing, drinking and talking. There was food available but many would have eaten before they arrived.
When I was introduced the men and women at the bar were still yakking; and this continued throughout the majority of my act. In the last ten minutes they did stop their conversation and watched me. This is because, all modesty aside, I have a particularly strong finale to my show.
To my way of thinking the performance had gone pretty well. It was how I would have expected it to have gone in these circumstances. I don’t have the type of act that will instantly silence a room. Normally I’m introduced when everybody is quiet already and then my job is to ensure they keep silent (apart from laughing and clapping of course!).
I was the first act on and after I had come off the comedian said he had enjoyed what I did. He then said: “I would love to see you at a dinner.” He followed that with a rather derisory comment about the audience which I’m reluctant to repeat in a family newsletter (it was quite funny though!).
He was actually being complimentary – but at the same time he was implying that I was better suited to performing as an after dinner act rather than a more traditional club act. And the inference was that a ‘proper’ club act would have shut up those chatters at the bar from the outset.
Noel’s words struck home: I wasn’t as good as I thought I was.
I’m quite certain I fall into that category of thinking that I’m superior in some way to most of my colleagues. But occasionally one’s self-delusion is brought back down to earth.
It happened to me recently when doing a show at a very traditional club comprising the type of variety entertainment you don’t often get to see these days. There were only four acts on but between us we would be doing around 3 hours. With a couple of half hour intervals thrown in the show would be lasting from 8 pm to midnight.
The acts comprised a multi-instrumentalist (40 minutes), a mainstream comedian (45 minutes), a tribute singer (60 minutes) and me (35 minutes). The venue was relatively typical in that people were seated on tables and chairs at the front; but at the back was a bar – where about twenty people were standing, drinking and talking. There was food available but many would have eaten before they arrived.
When I was introduced the men and women at the bar were still yakking; and this continued throughout the majority of my act. In the last ten minutes they did stop their conversation and watched me. This is because, all modesty aside, I have a particularly strong finale to my show.
To my way of thinking the performance had gone pretty well. It was how I would have expected it to have gone in these circumstances. I don’t have the type of act that will instantly silence a room. Normally I’m introduced when everybody is quiet already and then my job is to ensure they keep silent (apart from laughing and clapping of course!).
I was the first act on and after I had come off the comedian said he had enjoyed what I did. He then said: “I would love to see you at a dinner.” He followed that with a rather derisory comment about the audience which I’m reluctant to repeat in a family newsletter (it was quite funny though!).
He was actually being complimentary – but at the same time he was implying that I was better suited to performing as an after dinner act rather than a more traditional club act. And the inference was that a ‘proper’ club act would have shut up those chatters at the bar from the outset.
Noel’s words struck home: I wasn’t as good as I thought I was.
