Posted by Ian on 2009-04-10
in Magician
David Babani from The Menier Chocolate Factory was interviewed on Thursday on Radio 4’s Loose Ends by Mark Lawson. The theatre only opened in 2004 and has been an outstanding success, transferring a large number of productions to Broadway and the West End. These included a Little Shop of Horrors and La Cage aux Folles, so we are not talking lightweight productions here.
And yet, for three nights, last week the theatre played host to, god forbid, a magic show: The Expert at the Card Table, written and performed by Guy Hollingworth. Guy took as his subject a book published in 1905 called The Expert at the Card Table.
It’s an extraordinary tome, perhaps the most erudite book ever written on sleight of hand card magic and certainly the most influential on cheating at cards. It’s a book of two halves. The first on numerous methods of subterfuge enabling somebody to earn money unlawfully; the second on straightforward entertainment for the conjurer specialising in the pasteboards.
Part of its fascination is that no-one knows anything about the author. It’s written by SW Erdnase and the common belief is that this was a pseudonym for somebody called Sam Andrews (try spelling SW Erdnase backwards). One of the theories is that the writer was a man called Milton Andrews, a notorious gambler, womaniser and ultimately a murderer.
The main argument against this is that the book is beautifully written – so could such an unpleasant character really have penned such a great work? The jury is out on it.
Guy, though, for obvious dramatic reasons has gone with this story. He acted out the drama as if Andrews and Erdnase were two different people. The latter the elegant drawing room entertainer, the former the cheating gambler. It’s only at the denouement that the two are revealed to be one and the same person.
For most of the audience, the story almost certainly takes second place to the superb card work. Tall, well-spoken, courteous, good-looking - occasionally referred to as the Hugh Grant of magic – Guy is recognised throughout the magic world as one of the top card performers. In the United Kingdom perhaps only Jerry Sadowitz can match him. Particularly impressive is his false dealing and shuffling – even when you know what he’s doing it’s a joy to behold.
I would be giving a false impression if I was to say this was a masterpiece of theatre. The story has dramatic flaws which probably don’t bear intense scrutiny. Guy is no Ricky Jay. You get the impression with Ricky, in his show called Ricky Jay and his 52 assistants, when he’s talking about gambling and cheating that he’s actually done it.
Guy looks like who he is – a distinguished barrister straight forwardly telling a tale.
There was one sequence, though, that Guy got close to that very rare thing: a perfect blend of magic and drama. He was relating how Milton Andrews spent most of his waking days practising his card techniques – and in particular his dealing.
Guy described an exercise that he supposedly used to do which comprised looking through a shuffled pack of cards and then being able to deal from memory blocks of one, two or three red or black cards – as called out by members of the audience.
As Guy was demonstrating this, he simultaneously told how Andrews’ own personal life was descending into hell. He was drinking and getting violent, which eventually, as mentioned earlier, turned to murder. Yet all through this his practising continued unabated, reaching heights of unimagined excellence: and Guy’s own card technique kept pace with his own description.
For a moment as those cards were dealt, and the story was delivered, one felt close to A Picture of Dorian Gray in terms of the contrast between the inner tormented soul and the outward calmly controlled exterior.
And yet, for three nights, last week the theatre played host to, god forbid, a magic show: The Expert at the Card Table, written and performed by Guy Hollingworth. Guy took as his subject a book published in 1905 called The Expert at the Card Table.
It’s an extraordinary tome, perhaps the most erudite book ever written on sleight of hand card magic and certainly the most influential on cheating at cards. It’s a book of two halves. The first on numerous methods of subterfuge enabling somebody to earn money unlawfully; the second on straightforward entertainment for the conjurer specialising in the pasteboards.
Part of its fascination is that no-one knows anything about the author. It’s written by SW Erdnase and the common belief is that this was a pseudonym for somebody called Sam Andrews (try spelling SW Erdnase backwards). One of the theories is that the writer was a man called Milton Andrews, a notorious gambler, womaniser and ultimately a murderer.
The main argument against this is that the book is beautifully written – so could such an unpleasant character really have penned such a great work? The jury is out on it.
Guy, though, for obvious dramatic reasons has gone with this story. He acted out the drama as if Andrews and Erdnase were two different people. The latter the elegant drawing room entertainer, the former the cheating gambler. It’s only at the denouement that the two are revealed to be one and the same person.
For most of the audience, the story almost certainly takes second place to the superb card work. Tall, well-spoken, courteous, good-looking - occasionally referred to as the Hugh Grant of magic – Guy is recognised throughout the magic world as one of the top card performers. In the United Kingdom perhaps only Jerry Sadowitz can match him. Particularly impressive is his false dealing and shuffling – even when you know what he’s doing it’s a joy to behold.
I would be giving a false impression if I was to say this was a masterpiece of theatre. The story has dramatic flaws which probably don’t bear intense scrutiny. Guy is no Ricky Jay. You get the impression with Ricky, in his show called Ricky Jay and his 52 assistants, when he’s talking about gambling and cheating that he’s actually done it.
Guy looks like who he is – a distinguished barrister straight forwardly telling a tale.
There was one sequence, though, that Guy got close to that very rare thing: a perfect blend of magic and drama. He was relating how Milton Andrews spent most of his waking days practising his card techniques – and in particular his dealing.
Guy described an exercise that he supposedly used to do which comprised looking through a shuffled pack of cards and then being able to deal from memory blocks of one, two or three red or black cards – as called out by members of the audience.
As Guy was demonstrating this, he simultaneously told how Andrews’ own personal life was descending into hell. He was drinking and getting violent, which eventually, as mentioned earlier, turned to murder. Yet all through this his practising continued unabated, reaching heights of unimagined excellence: and Guy’s own card technique kept pace with his own description.
For a moment as those cards were dealt, and the story was delivered, one felt close to A Picture of Dorian Gray in terms of the contrast between the inner tormented soul and the outward calmly controlled exterior.
