Perspective

Last week we drove a few hours outside of Chicago to see one of our favorite musicians, Martin Sexton, in concert. We’ve wanted to see him live for years but just hadn’t gotten the chance yet.

It was a cold night but we arrived early and huddled outside the theater so we could enter the theater early and grab front row seats. But as the minutes ticked by and the start of the show grew closer we grew increasingly disappointed. We had assumed the venue would be packed but unfortunately there was hardly anyone in attendance.

I had built this night up in my mind: standing room only, the buzz of a well-respected performer about to take the stage, a big crowd singing along to music that I’ve listened to for much of my life. Instead, we were part of a small crowd of only about 50 people and it made me sad to think about how much I loved this performer and how I wanted other people to love them, too.

There’s no rhyme or reason why some performers sell out massive arenas and other performers struggle to find an audience. Sometimes it’s timing, other times it’s complete luck. It’s not to say performers with huge fan bases haven’t worked hard - they definitely have, but performers who don’t have big followings work hard, too, they just might not have gotten the same breaks that other artists have.

As we were waiting for the show to begin I started to think about my own work. For all of my big shows and wonderful opportunities, I’ve also had to persevere through many a bad performance.

I’ve performed in college cafeterias during lunchtime when I struggled to get a single student to look up from their laptop. I might as well have been invisible.

I’ve done midnight shows at festivals when there were only four people in the audience. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

I’ve done company events where the audience was unruly and the sound system was so bad that I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

You name it, I've probably done it.

When you spend an entire day travelling only to have a bad venue or a small audience it can be really defeating. You start to feel sorry for yourself and wonder why you even wanted to be a performer in the first place. You feel the weight of every bad show you’e ever done and every mistake you’ve ever made and it can be hard to shift that mindset and even care about the show you’re about to do.

So when I saw how small my favorite musician’s audience was last week I couldn’t help but replay all of those moments in my mind. And then, all of that changed.

He walked out and stepped in front of the microphone. Without any amplification he filled the entire space with a stirring rendition of one of his best songs. And everyone went crazy.

He made a joke about the show being “a living room gig”. He didn’t make fun of the audience or feel sorry for himself. He just acknowledged the situation and let us know that he was still going to give it his all.

And he did.

Song after song he filled the space with his amazing talent. Everyone was completely enthralled for the entire show. And by the end we rose to our feet in a huge ovation.

It was no longer disappointing that the audience was so small. It was a privilege. We got to see him in a small setting - everyone else had missed out. It was easily one of the best shows I’ve ever seen.

For two hours straight I had been transported into his world. I don’t know if he had been disappointed with the turnout backstage but if he was it didn’t show. He shifted his perspective of the night into a positive one and transmitted that feeling to us. It was clear that he loves what he does and was grateful to all 50 of us for coming out to see him on one of the coldest nights of the year.

Everyone tells you that if you work hard then you can do anything you want. But honestly? Most things are out of your control. You don’t know where you’re going to end up or how much money you’re going to make. And you can’t will a world tour into existence. But you can shift your perspective and remind yourself to be proud of what you do and be excited to share it with other people.

It can be so easy to get down on yourself when it feels like you aren’t living up to your own expectations. And with social media, it’s far too easy to compare ourselves to others and their version of success. But success comes in many, many forms. You can phone it in because hardly anyone showed up to your show or you can blow the roof of the joint for fifty of your biggest fans in central Illinois and give them a night they’ll always remember

It’s all in how you look at it.

---

Other Thoughts:

• Last night I was on the Nick Digilio Show on WGN 720AM Radio. Check out the interview here..

• Next week I’m giving my second TEDx Talk at TEDxYouth@Hinsdale. Watch my website for the full video soon!

• See me live in March at the Chicago Magic Lounge! Go here for all of my other upcoming performances.

No Other Option

I’ve had an idea in my notebook for ten years. It’s a piece for my show that I’ve always wanted to try. It’s everything I like to do onstage: mind blowing, entertaining, funny, and fun to do.

The only problem? I’ve never actually done it during a show until a few days ago. Just this week I finally did it and IT KILLED. It was as good as I knew it would be.

What the hell took me so long?

I guess every time I went to try it I would talk myself out of it. I’d tell myself it wasn’t ready yet and that it needed more rehearsal. I’d fall back on my go-to material instead of just taking the plunge and going for it. I just kept putting it off.

When I was younger I taught myself to juggle by standing over a bed. The idea was simple: when I dropped a tennis ball I didn’t have to chase it across the room. I could just pick it up off the bed and keep trying. Progress was slow. So, I started juggling at the top of the stairs. Chasing my drops became a chore so my drops were fewer. I got better because there was no other option.

When I went to theater school my parents told me I should double major in business, too. “You’ll want to have a fall back plan,” they told me, just in case things didn’t work out. But I refused. I knew if there was a fall back plan then I would fall back on it. When I left school there was no other option except to do entertainment . . . so that’s exactly what I’ve been doing ever since.

That's the same kind of mentality I needed this week to actually bring that new piece onstage with me. I waited ten years to do it because I always had a fall back plan. It kept me from taking the risk and pushing myself to do more and be better.

This week I removed the safety net. I only packed my bag with enough props to execute the new piece and nothing more. There was no other option but to finally give it a shot. It was the final push I needed to succeed and (as is always the case when you step out of your comfort zone) I’m so glad I did.

So what's that thing you’ve been meaning to do? What’s that idea in your notebook that you’ve been putting off for a decade?

The time has come for you to get rid of the back up plan. Remove the safety net. Stand at the top of the stairs and get the balls in the air.

Look at that! You're juggling!

Value What You Do

Incredibly, even though I’ve been a professional entertainer for over a decade, I still get occasional requests to work for free. People want me to “donate my time” or promise that their event will lead to “tons of free exposure”. As recent as last year someone asked me to do a show in exchange for some gift certificates at their restaurant. I turned them down.

When I was just starting out I might have jumped at the opportunity to get my name out there. Back then it felt foolish not to seize every opportunity that came my way but now, with ten years of experience, I see things differently.

So, to the artists, actors, musicians, comics, magicians, or other performers who might be reading this, let me help you out. When someone approaches you with promises of “exposure” in exchange for free work - DON’T DO IT.

Take it from me: Not a single bit of the work I gave away ever led to anything substantial. If anything, the people that I donated work to would realize I was a nice guy and continued to take advantage of my services in other ways. Plus, if anyone saw me at one of those events they were probably looking for discounted work, too.

Many of my artist friends have a hard time valuing what they do. Some don’t have a clue what to charge and others cringe at the idea of charging at all. It may be out of your comfort zone, but no matter your art form you should charge what you’re worth just like you would in any other field.

Take what I do, for example: When I travel for gigs I’m not just working for a 45 minute show. I’m actually giving away nearly 36 hours for one event. I’m literally spending almost one regular work week just to travel across the country and back for one job! So, I have to charge accordingly - hotel, travel, preparation costs, fuel, luggage, performance, experience, and more all factor into how I set my fee.

Just last weekend I found myself delayed at an airport on the west coast. My morning flight was cancelled and I rebooked on a different airline headed to the alternate airport in Chicago. I had plans that evening but luckily my flight landed back home just in time. I took an Uber home to change, then another Uber on to a concert with my wife. Then, after the show we took yet another Uber to the other airport to get our car before driving home. A simple flight home turned into a much more expensive flight and three additional cab rides across town.

It would be impossible to afford to deal with travel changes if I wasn’t firm in my fee and willing to value my work. And that’s the key - you have to understand your worth and be willing to say no to people that don’t value your work like you do.

Here’s the best advice I can give you: set a price and don’t come down on it. When people try to haggle with you, say “NO” and explain why you charge what you do. It may be difficult to let work slip away at first but over time people will understand that you mean business and they will value your craft like you do. In a year, increase your rates and start all over again. You’ll be glad you did.

People would never ask a plumber or contractor to work for exposure. They would never tell their attorney that they would be sure to “tell all of their friends about them” in exchange for their services. It’s something very unique to entertainers and artists. But, that doesn’t mean it’s okay.

The next time someone asks you to work for "gift certificates” just tell them that you called your landlord and sadly they don’t accept gift certificates in exchange for your rent. Or, just forward that cheapskate a link to this post.

---

Other Thoughts:

• Jules Darling did this awesome sketch of me during a show in Chicago last week! Check out more of their work on Instagram.

• Tomorrow night I'll be reading minds at a special Valentine’s Day edition of The Magic Penthouse. I’m also part of an incredible lineup this weekend at The Lincoln Lodge. Get your tickets here.

• I was super pumped that “Parasite” won the Oscar for Best Picture. If you haven’t seen it yet, what are you waiting for? Don’t read anything that might spoil it - just watch it. It’s easily one of the best movies I’ve seen in a really, really long time.

Elevate

Whatever you do in life, whatever your career or hobby or part-time job might be, promise me one thing: Promise me that you will never trivialize what you do. It’s disrespectful to yourself, your colleagues, and people that might be interested in your endeavors.

Don't get me wrong - you don’t have to take yourself seriously, but you should take what you do very seriously. You should always be aiming to elevate what you do so that people will respect it and appreciate it on a higher level. Diminishing what you do with self-deprecation or lame jokes creates a negative stereotype of your craft that you should work hard to avoid.

My only examples of this are from within the entertainment world where I spend the majority of my time. I have a magician friend who thinks it’s clever to make self-deprecating jokes about what he does, such as “I don’t really tell jokes…because being a magician is already a joke” or (after doing an obviously difficult demonstration of skill) “Are you surprised that I don’t have a girlfriend?”.

I’m not trying to call out a friend here. In fact, you could attribute those jokes to many magicians and they would still apply. And that’s the problem. Making those sorts of jokes creates a negative impression of magic in the minds of the audience. And if there are multiple performers out there doing it then not only is it unoriginal but it’s reinforcing the childish opinion of magic that many audience members may already have.

When I go to another performer’s show I always watch the audience. I’m always trying to learn, so I watch to see how engaged they are and if they’re enjoying the performance. Are they leaning forwards? Or are they on their phones? Are they whispering to each other in amazement or out of boredom? Are they rolling their eyes or fully immersed in the performance? Are they enjoying the show?

If you casually watched my friend’s performance you might think the audience was enjoying those jokes. After all, they’re laughing and smiling so it’s all good, right?

Wrong.

Upon closer inspection you’d notice sections of the audience starting to shift uncomfortably. I can tell the audience members are thinking to themselves “Wait, I paid $100 a ticket to see some guy feel sorry for himself and tell me how dumb this is?”

This kind of performance gives our art a bad name. It makes people view it as a distraction or something trivial. And it makes it harder for someone that takes it seriously (like I do) to get other people to do the same.

What I wish my friend would do is to ELEVATE our craft. I wish instead of diminishing the time he spent learning something by admitting he “doesn’t have a girlfriend” that he would explain to the audience that they’re about to see something “so wondrous that you’ll remember it for the rest of your life”. I don’t want him to say that his career is “a joke” because that implies that mine is, too. Yeah, they’re laughing but those are easy laughs. Work harder, man.

I don't for a second believe that magic or mentalism is the most important thing in the world. I’m not fighting fires or curing diseases. I’m just an entertainer, that’s all. But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t take what I do seriously. Entertainment is still important. We need entertainers to transport us, if only for an hour, so we can get away from the struggles we all go through on a daily basis. That’s the joy of what I do and why I do my best not to trivialize it.

Years ago I heard a magician share this poem on an old VHS tape. It’s stuck with me ever since:

I saw them tearing a building down,
a gang of men in my home town.
With a heave, and a ho and a “yes yes” yell,
they swung a beam and a side wall fell.
I asked the foreman, “Are these men skilled?
Like those you would use if you had to build?”
He laughed and replied “Oh no, indeed!
The most common labor is all I need.
You see I can destroy in a day or two,
what it would take a builder 10 years to do!”
I thought to myself as I went on my way,
which of these roles am I willing to to play?
Am I the one that is tearing down?
As I carelessly make my way around?
Or am I the one that builds with care?
So that my craft and community are better because I was there?
- Anonymous

Whether I’m performing for 15 people or 15,000, I always use my show as an opportunity to elevate what I do in the minds of the audience and give them a night to remember. I’m cognizant that I’m a representative of my industry and what I do will affect other people that do it, too.

So, my question for you is this: Are you elevating what you do? No matter your field, please find ways to share your passion and get others to respect it, too.

---

Other Thoughts:

• I finally made it out to Morton Arboretum to see the Troll Hunt. It was so fun! You only have through June to see it, so don’t miss out.

• A busy week ahead of travel and shows for private events, but you can catch me LIVE at The Magic Penthouse and The Lincoln Lodge.