CHAPTER II

THE THREE DEGREES IN ART

HERE we come into contact with a difficulty which has taxed the powers of many great minds to the utmost. Before we can talk sensibly about "Art" of any kind, we must first define the true meaning of that term. We must decide what, in our opinion, art really is. Fortunately in this instance, we are not in danger of encountering the obstacle that so many able intellects have failed to overcome. We are not called upon to define the meaning of art in the abstract. We have only to define what is meant by "Art in Magic." To that end, we may evoke the aid of both authority and common sense.

It was, we believe, Robert-Houdin who said that a conjurer is in reality "an actor playing the part of a magician." There is only one fault in that statement. He should have said "a great conjurer." Because, as we all know, there are many conjurers who only play the part of some other conjurer. That, however, is a matter with which we shall deal forcibly later on. For the present, we shall accept the broad principle expressed in Robert-Houdin's definition of a conjurer. That definition may not be--and is not--accurate in relation to what a conjurer always is; but, beyond doubt, it is accurate in the sense of defining what a conjurer always should be. A real modern magician, then, is essentially an actor. He must be so, or as the sole alternative he must be a duffer. Both authority and common sense unite in compelling us to that conclusion. To all intents and purposes, the real art of the magician is identical with that of the actor. The magician's methods, of course, are widely different from those of the actor; but, whatever difference there may be in method, the principles involved are identical in both cases.

From the time of Aristotle to the present date, the consensus of authorities has decided that all art is based upon imitation. Most of the authorities have "flown off the handle," in trying to decide what constitutes art in the abstract; but all agree that the basis of art is imitation-either the imitation of something that actually exists, or of something that might exist in circumstances imagined by the artist. With this knowledge in our possession and fortified by the exercise of our own judgment, we realize the fact that a display of skill given by a magical performer should imitate, and thus convey to the spectators, the impression of effects produced by supernormal powers. Herein, we may justly say that we stand upon sure ground and here we may rest, so far as primary considerations are concerned. We have no need to be led out of our depth by trying to define that will-o'-the wisp, "abstract art."

Now, artistic judgment may, to a great extent, be gained by study and experience. Similarly, physical adaptation may be developed by early and systematic training. And the acquisition of either of those essentials may be considerably facilitated by means of accurate knowledge. Such knowledge may be either theoretical or practical; but of the, two the theoretical must, in the long run, prove to be the more valuable. It necessarily conducts the student to the bedrock of his subject; whereas the study of practical details only leads to a knowledge of isolated facts. By means of the latter form of study, the student may learn what to do in order to produce certain effects. But, however much attention he may devote to the acquisition of that detailed knowledge, he will never ascertain therefrom the reasons which underlie the processes he employs. He will only learn the "how" of his work; the "why" will remain obscure. In short, he will never really understand his business. Everything he does will be done blindly. Every new departure he endeavors to make must be subject to conclusions arrived at by means of "trial and error." Any little variation upon his usual practice will represent a subject of extreme doubt. He can only think that what he proposes to do will produce the result he desires. He can never know what he is doing, because he does not understand why the things he does are successful.

On the other hand, the man who has gained a knowledge of the broad principles which constitute the foundation of the art side of magic must necessarily possess a great advantage, in such circumstances. He knows the reason why each effect he has already produced has been successful. He can follow the manner in which each of his previous devices has operated, in influencing the minds of spectators. Similarly, from his knowledge of basic principles, he will be able to deduce the proper manner of presentation and the probable effect of any new conception. The same principles which govern what he has already done also govern what he is about to do. Therefore, being acquainted with the "why" of the matter, he is not afflicted by doubts concerning the "how." Putting the whole thing in a nutshell, it simply comes to this-the man not only knows his business; he also understands it. He knows the technique, and understands the art. As to the great value--and the commercial value--of the understanding, we think, there can exist no possible doubt.

As already stated, there is a kind of art which imitates things imagined by the artist. There is another kind of art which imitates things that actually exist. There is also a third kind-that which imitates neither things imagined by the imitator, nor things that exist; but merely imitates the imitations of others. These three varieties may, respectively, be described as High Art, Normal Art, and False Art.

We now turn our attention to the systematic discussion of the three phases of art thus defined, and endeavor to arrive at sound conclusions thereon in relation to the Art in Magic.

The subject of false art in magic, when rationally investigated, presents no difficulties, in the way of either doubt or obscurity. In magic, as elsewhere, false art is the art which imitates art. It is an imitation of an imitation. An illustration of this may be given by means of a familiar analogy in connection with painting. Pictures painted by the great masters are frequently reproduced by students and by professional copyists. Many of the copies thus executed are,. in all practical respects, facsimiles of the original pictures from which they were copied. Yet nobody, in his sober senses, could possibly regard those copies, however faithful they may be, as works of true art. We have all seen copies of invaluable masterpieces offered for sale. We have all noted the insignificant price at which such copies are sold. We have all been struck by the small value of the copies as compared with their originals, the latter being very often so precious that money could not buy them. The reason for this discrepancy is obvious. The originals are works of high art. The copies are works of false art; except, of course, that they have the merit of honesty. They are admittedly nothing more than copies.

As in painting, so also in magic. To produce a magical effect of original conception is a work of high art. It imitates the exercise of magical powers, by means and in a manner conceived by the artist who produced it. To reproduce a magical effect, exactly as already conceived and executed by an artist in magic, is false art. It merely imitates the original imitation; and, in actual value, is just as worthless as a painting copied from another painting. Any weakling may be taught how to do that kind of thing; and, having learned his lesson, may earn an income equivalent to the value of a weakling's work.

Yet, in spite of the truth of the foregoing statements, many of those who practise magic, either as a means of livelihood or as an intellectual recreation, appear to be entirely ignorant of the very existence of facts such as those we have reviewed. In all probability, those men would feel highly offended were any doubt cast upon their claim to be regarded as artists. Yet, in all they do, they prove themselves to be mere mechanics. They can do just what somebody else has already done-and they can do nothing more. Such men are not artists. They cannot be; since, in all their works, the only kind of art displayed is the false art, which is an imitation of real art.

The class of man above indicated represents a type that must be very familiar to all. The methods adopted by such men are of common knowledge. Suppose, for instance, Mr. Artist produces a novel and successful effect. No sooner has he done so than Mr. Copyist becomes on the alert, and forthwith proceeds to haunt the place wherein Mr. Artist's performances are given. By means of persistent observation, aided perhaps by accident, by means of purchase from some other imitator, or, it may be, by means of bribery and corruption, Mr. Copyist eventually acquires the knowledge and equipment requisite for the reproduction of the novel effect. That end having been attained, one might think that Mr. Copyist would need to gain nothing, more at Mr. Artist's expense. Generally, however, that is far from being the case. Although he has become possessed of the technical requirements connected with the effect he seeks to reproduce, Mr. Copyist even, then is not content to take off his coat and do a little meritorious work. Having got what he wanted in order A to reproduce the effect, he might surely be expected to, infuse some spice of originality into his reproduction. But, no! He will not trouble himself even to that slight extent. He does not mind expending his time in gathering the crumbs that fall from another's table; but he has a rooted objection to ex ending energy in making his own bread. So he continues to attend Mr. Artist's performances until, in the course of time, he has learned by heart every word Mr. Artist says, every inflection of Mr. Artist's voice, and every movement and gesture Mr. Artist makes. Then, and then only, is Mr. Copyist pre pared to set to work on his own account. And when his reproduction is exhibited, what is it? Generally speaking, it is but a pale reflection of the original work of art. At the best, it is merely slavish imitation; and, as such, has no artistic value.

On several occasions, we have made an experiment which is always interesting. That experiment has been tried upon copyists, clinging to the skirts of various arts, including magic. It consists in saying to Mr. Copyist, at the conclusion of his performance, "I had only to close my eyes, and I could almost have believed it was Mr. Artist who was performing." Thereupon, Mr. Copyist has, invariably, assumed an expression of smug satisfaction, and has given thanks for the great compliment (?) paid him! If he could only have realized what was passing in the mind of the person to whom his thanks were addressed -but, there! his mental caliber, of course, forbids any such exercise of intelligence. Yet, one cannot help coveting the blissful ignorance and the sublime impudence which enable such a man to pose as an artist. The possession of an intellect so obtuse, and a hide so pachydermatous, must confer upon the possessor a degree of self-satisfaction unknown to men of real ability.

Some may possibly think we have been too severe upon Mr. Copyist. It must be remembered, however, that no useful purpose can be served by mincing matters, when endeavoring to uphold any just cause. If magic is to be raised to its proper level among the fine arts, one must not withhold the statement of any truth, however disagreeable it may be, that may help to drive home the essential points which distinguish real Art in Magic from the false art so often met with in the practice of magic.

Leaving for the present the subject of False Art, we shall proceed to the more agreeable considerations connected with True Art in Magic. Of this, as we have already seen, there are two kinds-Normal Art and High Art. Those definitions, of course, do not represent qualities that are capable of hard-and-fast classification. In the nature of things, that is impossible. The range of art, from its highest grade to its lowest, includes every possible degree of merit. Except in general terms, one cannot say that, within such and such limits, Normal Art is contained and, beyond those limits, we have on the one hand High Art, and on the other False Art. There is an almost imperceptible gradation throughout the entire scale, between each particular degree and those adjoining it. One can only generalize, when dealing with the principles of any form of art; and, speaking broadly, say that High Art is situated near to the top of the scale, Normal Art near the middle, and False Art near the lower end. It is the normal or average degree-approximating to the central position of the scale-that next claims our attention.

When discussing False Art in Magic, we had no difficulty in providing a definition of its nature. When we say that False Art is the art which imitates art, we are merely stating a truism, and one that is applicable to all arts alike. But when we proceed to define Normal Art in Magic, we find the task somewhat more difficult. In painting, for example, it is easy enough and accurate enough to say that Normal Art is the art which imitates nature. We can all understand that the normal artist, in painting, is he who transfers to his canvas a transcript of what he himself has seen in nature. In nature, however, there is no magic, because the very essence of magic is that it apparently sets the laws of nature at defiance. "Natural Magic" is really a contradiction in terms. It may mean almost anything, according to the sense in which it is used. Therefore, apart from art of some kind, magic has no existence. Hence, the point is, how can the normal artist in magic reproduce the normal effects associated with magic, without at once a becoming a false artist-one who imitates art? It is a very pretty question, involving an interesting problem. The answer to that question, and the solution of that problem, cannot fail to provide a valuable mental exercise for all magicians who respect their profession and value their art.

At first glance, it may appear that, at this stage of our investigation, we have encountered a difficulty of considerable magnitude; or possibly an insurmountable obstacle. A very little reflection, how ever, will show that such is by no means the case. The difficulty is more apparent than real. The principles which govern the normal practice of other arts will be found, absolutely, of equal validity in the Art in Magic. This may readily be demonstrated by amplifying the analogy, already employed, between magic and painting.

In painting, the normal artist makes a picture, representing some thing or a combination of many things, that will reproduce the effect of actually looking upon the work of nature. He does not create anything; he merely imitates things, which already exist, on canvas. The things he paints resemble, more or less, things which others have painted. As a rule, such resemblances, in normal art, are inevitable. The important point, however, is that the things he paints do not imitate paintings made by others. The various things which enter into the composition of his picture are the common property of every artist. Everyone is at liberty to combine those details, in any manner he may think fit, to produce whatever effect he chooses. But, so soon as any painter copies a particular combination, or a particular treatment of such details, as represented in the work of another, so soon will his work be reduced to the level of false art. Now, in view of these self-evident facts, the difficulty of defining the nature of Normal Art in Magic becomes reduced to very small dimensions. In fact, one can scarcely say that any difficulty exists.

Just as the average painter has at hand innumerable details of subject and technique, all of which are common property, so has the average magician a wide selection of materials which, in common with all his fellow-artists, he is at liberty to use. just as the painter uses familiar methods and stock subjects for the production of his pictures, so does the magician use methods and subjects which have a similar relation to his own special art. In either case, the chief characteristic which distinguishes Normal Art from False Art consists in the fact that the former relies upon personal ability, while the latter sponges upon the ability of others. That is perfectly clear.

There need be no hesitation in giving a definition of what constitutes Normal Art in Magic. Obviously, it is the art which employs familiar means to produce its own especial results. Normal Art of every kind, when reduced to its true basis, consists in that and nothing more. Certain subjects and certain methods are common property. The normal artist utilizes those subjects and methods, without copying anyone else. That is to say, the difference between the essentially false and the essentially true, in any art, lies in the respective absence or presence of original effort. One may be a true artist without possessing creative genius. Individual skill in adaptation will suffice. But no true artist can ever be made from material contained in a mere copyist. On the other hand, however, a normal artist may only too readily degenerate into a copyist, unless he is careful to keep in view the duty he owes both to his art and to himself.

Upon such points, the man who, even in a very minor degree, possesses the true artistic temperament, cannot help feeling and speaking strongly. He who seeks to acquire or to retain the social position assigned to an artist, can never lose sight of the maxim "Noblesse oblige."' He is perforce compelled to avoid many practices which, if employed in commerce, would be perfectly justifiable. He who employs the tradesman's methods must be content to remain a tradesman. His ultimate aim consists in the making of money; a thing with which art has no concern. It is true that, in art, even more profit may often be made than in trade; but whatever profit may incidentally accrue to the artist, his ultimate aim is far higher than matters relating to finance. He has, of course, every reason for studying his own interests. Nobody can blame him for that; nor, indeed, can do otherwise than approve his prudence. But, at all times, the interests of his art are paramount. Should there arise an occasion when an artist finds self-interest opposed to the interests of art, he must be prepared to sacrifice profit upon the altar of duty. If he cannot do that, he is no true artist. Let him, then, come down from his pedestal, and take his place among workaday humanity. In doing so, he will suffer no disgrace; but, on the contrary, he will deserve honor. By ridding himself of an unwarrantable assumption of artistic merit, he will be absolved from the guilt of false-pretense.

In magic, then, the normal artist is he who takes materials which are the common property of all who practise his art, and utilizes those materials for his own particular ends. His general purpose, of course, like that of all magicians, is the simulation of supernatural effects. And, in the achievement of that purpose, the work done by the normal artist in magic will fall within one of three categories, which may be outlined as follows:

1. The use of familiar methods, in a familiar combination, to produce a familiar effect, but with some originality in presentation.

2. The use of familiar methods, in a novel form of combination, to produce a familiar effect, the manner of presentation displaying some originality.

3. The use of familiar methods, in any form of combination, to produce a novel effect, the presentation of which must necessarily possess more or less originality.

In our Normal Art, as already defined, it will be noted that every department possesses one characteristic that is common to all, viz., originality of presentation. And, having carried our investigation thus far, we are able to see that, without the saving grace of original presentation, a magician's work must necessarily degenerate into False Art. The extent of such degeneration will be exactly commensurate with the degree to which that work imitates the work of other magicians. In other words, the degeneration is proportionate to the imitation of art. The very moment we detect the existence of art which imitates art, we know we are face to face with falsity, more or less pronounced. On that point we need have no fear of being mistaken. Knowing what we know, our estimate of a magician's merit will be governed mainly by this particular consideration. When we recognize the presence of False Art, we prepare ourselves to estimate the depth to which the magician will sink. When we note the absence of False Art, we prepare to observe the height to which the magician will rise. Therein we instinctively act upon the dictates of common sense and common justice.

Turning to the other extreme, however, we find that our Normal Art presents a very wide field for expansion, and is capable of attaining a very high level of merit. Indeed, it may be raised to a level which approximates very closely to High Art; so closely, in fact, that it encroaches upon the hinterland dividing the two higher sections of art. In this respect, everything depends upon the amount of original accomplishment displayed. The essential truth of this latter statement will become more apparent when we proceed to discuss the actual characteristics of High Art in Magic.

We must never lose sight of the fact that in magic, as in all intellectual occupations, Normal Art is by far the most important department. High Art is a sporadic and accidental development that may be productive of beneficial influences, if only it can secure due appreciation. In any event, however, its influence can never be otherwise than for the good. False Art is a parasitic growth that can only be productive of evil, and should never be permitted to live. Between the two there lies Normal Art, which includes the vast bulk of magical representations, and upon the elevation of which all true progress depends. It is useless to point out the merits exhibited by the work of this or that exponent, and say--"See how high a level magic has attained!" It is unjust to quote the doings of certain so-called "artists," and say-"See the depths to which magic has become degraded!" The true status of magic, as an art, can only be ascertained by means of evidence derived from the work of accredited Normal Artists. The more nearly our Normal Art, as a whole, can be made to approach the status of High Art, the greater will be the elevation attained by magic. The more nearly our Normal Art approximates to False Art, the lower must the whole art of magic sink. These statements admit of no dispute, as any man of ordinary intelligence can perceive. By our Normal Art, we must either stand or fall. There is no help for it. If Normal Art becomes debased, no individual genius can save it. If Normal Art is represented by men who respect their art, no charlatan, however notorious, can ever degrade it.

The future of our art, then, rests with the Normal Artist. Upon him depends the ultimate development of magic. If he is not true to his art, the false artist will in the end reign supreme. In such circumstances, magic must relinquish all hope of attaining a position among the Fine Arts. It must be relegated to the position of a mechanical art--an inferior mechanical art--lower even than that of a circus juggler.

This is obvious, because, from the standpoint of mechanical art, the juggler's attainments are far higher than those of a magician. The .latter can only take a higher place by realizing that he has to depend for success upon his brains, rather than upon his hands. In manipulative skill, he is hopelessly outclassed by the juggler. The amount of practice and physical training he requires cannot in any, way be compared with that which is needed by the juggler. If, therefore, the Normal Artist in magic insists upon regarding his art as a mere congeries of mechanical accomplishments, he must be content to occupy a position inferior to that of a skilled mechanic.

The question of manipulative skill, as considered in relation to the respective accomplishments of the conjurer, the juggler and the artificer, may be put in a nutshell. Where the conjurer requires weeks of practice, the juggler requires months. And where the juggler requires months of practice, the skilled mechanic requires years. This is written, remember , by men who know what they are talking about-who are familiar with the three kinds of training in question. Mere opinion does not enter into the matter at all. As a mechanical art (i.e., as a form of manipulative skill), magic occupies a very low position indeed. Only as an intellectual pursuit can it claim to be regarded as an art.

At times we have conversed with conjurers, professional and amateur, who have become momentarily enamored of some original or newly-introduced manipulation. In such cases, it is singularly interesting to note the attitude of mind displayed by the enthusiast. He is proud of his attainment as though it were an infant prodigy of whom he was the parent. He speaks of it in rapturous terms, as though it represented the highest achievement of which the magic art is capable. And no doubt if he were questioned on the point he would say that, in his opinion, the production of such ingenious devices must be regarded as the high-water mark of Art in Magic.
When, however, we apply to such matters the touchstone of actual knowledge, we have no difficulty in seeing that the judgment proceed by our enthusiast is wildly wide of the mark. Greater folly, noun indeed, could hardly be put into words. To say that any mere manipulation can possibly be regarded as a work of High Art, is to sound the depths of absurdity. Manipulative processes are only one small

very portion of the means whereby the purposes of art are served. They are useful-indeed they are indispensable. But so are the brushes of the painter, and the chisels of the sculptor. In the work of an artist, mere handicraft has a value very little higher than that of the utensils employed therein. The only adjunct to which pride of place may be assigned is the artistic brain which conceives and directs the purposes of handicraft and utensils alike.

To complete the preliminary stage of our investigation, we shall now discuss the essential features of High Art in Magic. As in previous instances, we must first define precisely what we mean by the term "High Art" and ascertain what it is that, provably, constitutes the quality in question.

Herein we are confronted by no shadow of difficulty, either in connection with general principles or with specific details. High Art in Magic is, in every essential, the counterpart of High Art in other callings. It is that which originates and executes truly artistic conceptions. It represents the most complete triumph of mind over matter. It exists only in its power to create, but its creations are, humanly speaking, imperishable. As Shakespeare says:

"Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme."

--Sonnet LV.

When, from the vantage point of knowledge and experience, we review the history of magic, we instinctively realize that the achievements which live are those which truly possess the character of High Art. They are the works of creative genius-the works of Master Magicians, whose mastery was due to an innate sense of the principles which underlie true art. Dispossessed of that sense, those men would never have occupied the place in history which now is theirs by right.

The degree to which their work was dominated by artistic principles is evident to anyone who undertakes a dispassionate study of the matter.

If we bring an open mind to bear upon the achievements of Past Masters in Magic, and compare the purely technical merit of those works with that displayed in other branches of invention, the comparison thus instituted is very far from being favorable to magic. On the contrary, it shows magic in a very poor light. Regarded in that light, magic appears to consist merely in a series of second-rate mechanical devices and childishly simple processes. Such is the actual fact, beyond all possibility of dispute. Hence the obvious folly, as already stated, of imagining that the Art of Magic is represented by sleights" and "fakes." Such devices only constitute a branch--a very insignificant branch-of mechanical handicraft, and nothing more. To regard the Art of Magic in so unworthy a light is a serious blunder-proverbially worse than a crime. The art we profess is not contained in the mere devices we employ, nor does the history of our art consist in a catalog of the devices handed down to us. If, in magic, such things were all that could be claimed, this book could never have been written. If matters of pure technique--mere handicraft--were all we had to discuss, the phrase "Art in Magic" would represent a solecism of the first water. Fortunately for us, however, magic occupies a far higher plane than that of the actual means it employs. Such is the case in every art; for art of any kind can only begin where processes end. As grammar is to literature, or versification to poetry, so are sleights and fakes to magic. Such things are the means, not the end of art. In other arts, this fact is clearly understood and appreciated; but in magic neither the literature nor the general practice of the art has so far shown any indication of a true under standing of this most vital question. Surely it is our bounded duty to do our utmost toward correcting this lamentable defect. When that correction has been duly made-and not until then-magic will attain the position among fine arts to which it is justly entitled. To return, however, to the history of magic, there is one obvious question that arises. In view of what has already been said, wherein lies the true merit-the High Art-of the classic productions handed down to us? That question is easily answered. And, still more easily, can we say wherein the true merit of those productions does not consist. For example, it does not consist in, the inventive ability, as ordinarily understood, of the old masters. It does not consist in the mechanical ingenuity they displayed. It does not consist in the manipulative skill at their command. It does not consist in the theoretical knowledge they possessed, nor in the practical experience they gained. Such elementary matters barely touch the fringe of true art. Thus, by the simple process of exclusion, we arrive at the only possible answer. The true merit of the masterpieces in question consists in the originality they display, and the perfection with which they simulate the operation of supernatural influences. The honors gained by Master Magician s have been due to a genius for conceiving and fulfilling the requirements of artistic originality. In every art, the Master is he who can produce original effects, and understands how to present them in an original and convincing manner.

Thus there are three elementary facts which are well worthy of remembrance. Without thorough knowledge, no man can become a true artist. Without honorable ambition, no man can become a high artist. And without originality no man can become a great artist. Of course, we cannot all attain the greatness to which the Master Magicians are so worthily entitled. We cannot all hope to become exponents of the highest art in magic. But we can all, at least, try to do so, and in proportion to our united efforts in this direction, we shall raise the status of magic as an art.

In this connection we may advantageously bear in mind the words written centuries ago by Sir Philip Sidney:

"Who shootes at the mid-day sonne, though he be sure he shall never hit the marke, yet as sure he is he shall shoote higher than who aymes but at a bush."

"After me cometh a Builder. Tell him, I too have known."*

---

* "The Five Nations," p. 66.

Here, however, we must be careful to avoid falling into a very common error. We must not be drawn into a belief that, in art of any kind, there is or can be any specific rule which may not be set aside upon occasion. Cast-iron regulations are antagonistic to every form of art. It is impossible to give recipes whereby the creation of artistic effects may be assured. It is only possible to lay down rules for the avoidance of certain ascertained defects, and even such rules are not capable of rigid observance at all times. Their operation is controlled by attendant circumstances; and, in order to use them to full advantage, their scope and meaning must be fully understood. At the same time, there is one general rule whereby at all times our procedure may be governed. That rule may be stated as follows:

(1) Never set aside any accepted rule, unless it is absolutely necessary to do so for some clearly defined reason.

The application of this rule will become increasing evident as we proceed with our investigation. For the present it will suffice to say that when we have reasoned out and formulated a logical conclusion, that conclusion should be adhered to so far as may be possible. Thus, when no valid reason can be given for breaking an accepted rule, the latter should be obeyed. With this preamble, we may proceed to the detailed inquiry we have in view, treating each particular quality of art under its own separate heading.

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