Andrew Frost
To many I'm sure that a magic show is childish, silly or old fashioned, or all these things rolled into one. It’s why its so surprising that a magic show is on at the Arts Centre. Why, indeed, there isn’t a section on Outline that it properly fits. Andrew Frost does all he can to dispel this. He dresses like a barista at the Strangers Coffee Company, swears freely and frequently, and has a nice line in self-deprecating humour.
I've just seen the greatest card magician in the world, at least that's what it said on the tin. Whether or not Andrew Frost can justifiably lay claim to the accolade (he fairly swiftly owns up that it's a selective quote from an unspecified review) is something I could only determine by seeing many more card magicians than I would care to admit to. To me, a far more interesting question is why I feel just a little embarrassed admitting that I went to one.
Not while in the show, you understand, among an audience largely made up of magic fans and their long-suffering partners (and in at least one case an apologetic mum). The bloke sitting next to me confessed he was a magician, while in the seat in front another chap was genuinely, and expertly it should be said, shuffling a pack of cards he had inexplicably brought along.
But telling others - civilians if you will - what I was up to felt decidedly awkward beforehand. I was as evasive as on those occasions when I've been to see a puppet show. Is it because magic, much like puppets, is viewed as childish, or at least something you take a child to? To many I'm sure it is, or silly, or old fashioned, or all these things rolled into one. It’s why its so surprising that a magic show is on at the Arts Centre. Why, indeed, there isn’t a section on Outline that it properly fits. Andrew Frost, it seems to me, is a card magician only too aware of the preconceived notions folk have about magic, and does all he can to dispel them. He dresses like a barista at the Strangers Coffee Company, swears freely and frequently, and has a nice line in self-deprecating humour.
He's also chosen to focus on one relatively narrow form of magic. As he was keen to point out, it's variations on a theme, that theme being "Is this your card?" Given the formulaic nature of standard card tricks, he actually manages to inject a welcome variety into the set pieces he performs. Particularly smart was the way he got his many volunteers to do the heavy lifting, the rationale being that he didn't even touch the cards. On one level, we all know how card magic is done, not least as Frost helpfully itemised the ways.
And therein lies the rub. It's hard to be more specific without giving the game away. It's not just a case of how something was done, but also not being forewarned what is to be done. There's a very good trick - one of his best actually - involving a bulldog clip. Had I known what was coming I might well have worked it all out. As it was, I had no idea how he did what he did. No spoilers here in other words.
Frost is a personable fellow with the voice of David Olusoga and the looks of Bargain Hunt's David Harper, but I think there was a little too much chatter for my tastes. An audience that comes to a magic show wants magic, not cryptic allusions to Batman and Spiderman. He's a far better magician than he is a comedian and I'm sure he had many more tricks literally up his sleeve had he chosen to pack more in. That said, this was a nicely structured show, with a few elegant call-backs thrown in for good measure. Only occasionally were results guessable, greatly adding to the fun. He just has to watch out when things drag on a tad. Using staple guns in a Russian roulette set-up was innovative, but as we were only ever going to end up in the same place, he took a long time getting there.
Far better was his use of willing volunteers. Half the audience must have got up on stage by close of play, and having witnessed him cherry-pick to the left and the right of me, I'm still wondering what sort of body language I must have been giving off. Someone, perhaps, who sat with arms crossed and steely-eyed, who spent the evening trying to work out the tricks rather than just enjoying them. I was puzzled by his attitude to those of us puzzling over the mechanism. "Get a life," I was instructed in no uncertain terms, the inference being that we should sit back and marvel at the wonder of it all. But surely, in the absence of spectacle or quirkiness, it's hard to be dazzled by card magic in a visceral, emotional way. The pleasure that remains is in scratching our heads wondering how it's done, and in marvelling at the skill involved in doing so. I don't think there's any shame in that, and in any case I'm happy to report that barring one or two instances, I failed to work out very much at all. I enjoyed his performance all the more for it.
