The things we assistants do to try to keep our magicians happy. My magician loves to sing and dance like Elvis, but had not found an excuse to put such an opportunity into a show, because, as he says, “I am a magician not, song and dance act.” It took us several months to come up with an idea that would allow him to indulge his inner song and dance man; a further two to built the thing to the proof of concept stage, nearly a year to refine it to a state of being performable and another couple of months to come up with a costume that would not be ruined in the performance of the illusion, during which we would rehearse it with me naked, so that I got used to the intense feelings involved and he got to 'refine' his Elvis impression.
On stage the performance starts with the main prop being shown to the audience. This is a rectangular frame with what initially appear to be two vertical blades inside. It is hip-width and as tall as my mid-thigh to the base of my neck. This is demonstrated when I stand behind it, once it has been stood on a pair of trestles that are mid-thigh high.
I dance to the music while the rest of the parts are brought on stage. This is partly to allow me to show off my dance moves before my magician does his thing. The other parts are to show that I am a real person with no false limbs or anything else hidden about me, not that my dress for that illusion hides much. My dress for the illusion is made of pale blue satin that contrasts well with my tanned skin. The main thing that makes it unusual in the eyes of the audience is that there is no neckline, the fabric at the front comes over my shoulders and goes straight down to the waistband where the short mid-thigh skirt begins; this shows a lot of cleavage and my belly button. The back is the same so then all my spine down to the waistband is exposed. For those of you curious how such a garment holds together, the shoulders are held up, instead of slipping down my shoulders, by magnets attached to the satin choker around my neck, and the edges are fabric are held to my skin by the same kind of double-sided tape that is used by celebrities and actress to hold their costumes in place and prevent 'wardrobe malfunctions'.
After my dance, which while mildly provocative is also more sedate than I would prefer, I stand behind the frame again. This time a couple of stage hands bring another frame the same size as the frame with the blades. They hold it in place trapping me behind the blades with my thighs, arms and neck in cut-outs in the sides of the rear frame. My magician tries to remain solemn while he and another stage hand fasten the catches that will hold the second frame to the first with me trapped within.
We experimented with lifting the frame from the trestles and turning the whole thing with me inside, but it proved too awkward, so now we perform the whole thing on a low platform on wheels, thus allowing the frame and me to be turned to show my predicament without the necessity of lifting the frame and coordinating my limited movements with those of two men holding a heavy lump of equipment between them.
With me facing the audience once more another set of trestles are placed and the frame is tipped forward so that I am resting on the blades, while my magician declares his intent that I will pass through the blades unharmed. Of course, I am going nowhere; the blades are not sharp enough to cut from contact, and my skin is thick enough and my weight light enough that I would need to fall from a great height to get them to break my skin (same principle as a bed of nails). I get to complain that my head, legs and arms are unsupported, so shelves are fitted to the frame for my limbs to rest on, then a board is put inside the rear (now upper) frame, so it rests on my back.
I still do not sink onto the blades, all the board succeeds in doing is to counteract the support that I am able to gain from the shelves that my arms and legs rest on. Another board is brought out and slid into place 'so that I do not fall out of the frame once I have been pushed through the blades'. Then my magician has an idea; that idea being that there needs to be more weight on the board to push me through the blades. Instead of finding something heavy to weigh down the board or some elaborate machine to press me through, he gets a step ladder and climbs up to stand on the board himself. Initially this has very little effect, and he jumps a couple of times, then notes that the board has sunk a little, but this is going to take some time.
At this point the base platform is turned sideways, so that the audience can see my head, legs and one arm. I pull in the unseen arm and make sure that the divides in my dress and the blades are aligned so that the trick can precede without me sacrificing my modesty. To distract, my magician ponders what he can do to keep the audience entertained while I slowly pass through the blades. He calls for a hand-held microphone and a sparkly jacket and begins a performance of 'All Shook Up'.
While he sings, he also dances, with much hip-swinging which transfers to me as movement along the blades, which is enough to get them to cut and allow me to sink into the gap where the blades are. I try to keep a look of horror on my face, but my internal laughter at my magician's antics as he stomps and wiggles his way through the song, and the sensual feelings as my body sinks onto and between the welcoming blades, peek through, showing the audience that I may seem like I am having a terrible time, but there is something keeping me going.
As the song climaxes I push my upstage arm back through the hole for it and the board at my back finishes travelling downward to rest upon the blades. I am now in three sections which during the design phase were referred to as 'Left', 'Middle' and 'Right'. I could feel the pressure of the board I had been pressed towards against my breasts and my hip bones; this was not a great pressure as I was clamped between the blades.
When the song ended the audience applauded enthusiastically, because, despite his protestations, if he had not been a magician, he could have made a decent living from being a singer or dancer. As the adulation faded, stagehands came forward, then unlatched and removed the rear/upper frame, causing my magician to need to step over the frame as it was taken away. He climbed down from his 'impromptu' stage, and asked how I was doing. Rather then say anything, I made a movement with my arms as if, despite the limitations presented by being contained in a wooden frame with my arms through side-holes and my head out of the end, I was trying to get my fingers in my ears. My magician ignored the gesture, but some of the audience saw fit to laugh.
The platform was rotated once more, to show that I was confined in a slim blade-filled box with still active limbs and head. With my head towards the audience, I strained to look up enough to show them my face, assuring the nervous that I was doing OK and the sceptical that it was still me, the woman who had danced before the illusion.
The frame was returned to upright position, which took the combined efforts of my magician and three stagehands. It was a relief to be vertical again with my feet on the platform, mostly because I did not have to support my head against gravity. The shelves that I had used to rest my limbs were then removed, this allowed everyone to see my still active arms and legs and had the added benefit of giving the sceptical something to focus on while trying to impossible task of figuring out how it was done ('Why were her limbs hidden for a while after she had been turned back to vertical?' they would ask themselves, which was completely the wrong line of enquiry).
The next step was to remove the back board, which had been my magician's makeshift stage. It was lifted out and then shown to the audience. The side that had been down had showed scratches exactly where the blades would have scratched the paint through to the wood. The other side had a mess of dusty footprints on it. The board would be ready for the next performance after the application of a vacuum cleaner and a lick of black paint.
The first highlight of the illusion was next. This was the removal of the front panel to show my body still within the frame. I can usually tell how awake the audience is by the time between the polite applause to acknowledge me being revealed and the more enthusiastic applause when the notice that blades that were within the frame are still there and visible sticking out of my front.
The platform is rotated again to show that backs of the blades stick out of my back. At this point some of you will remember that my dress is held in place by double-sided tape and magnets; this is why. If the magnets were not there the attachment at my shoulders would be cut and the sides of the dress would slip down, exposing my generous bust, which is alright to show in the rehearsal room while developing an illusion, but I don't want it seen by the general public. That explains why I needed to pull in my arm to adjust things. The perceptive will be wondering what about the section of skirt that remained between the blades and hanging over my crotch and behind; that is also magnets and double-sided tape; the tape under the waistband holds it up and magnets near the edge in the middle and at the hem stop the edge of the satin from curling inward and exposing me or the secret of the trick.
The frame is nudged forward and onto cradles on top three posts each with a five-legged splayed stand at the bottom, similar to office chairs. My magician announces that he detects some scepticism that I have been pushed onto the blades and divided into three pieces, while the trestles are removed. To remove that doubt, he and a stagehand pull on the sides of the frame; this causes the side sections, 'Left' and 'Right', to separate from the 'Middle' while still being supported by the posts and connected to the middle by sliders built into the frame. As they move my sides away from my middle, I have to do a foot shuffle, in opposite directions, with my feet. Using the wheeled posts they show both sides of my spaced out body and then push me back together.
When the audience have had their fill of looking me in this odd situation, my magician picks a purple satin sheet and a light at the rear of the stage casts my silhouette on it as he drapes it over the front of the frame. I wait a moment and step forward taking the sheet with me, so that it is draped over my shoulders. At a signal from me, the backlight is extinguished and I pull away the cover to show that I have changed into my outfit for the next illusion, which usually involves me being in a skintight white Lycra cat-suit with calf-high boots, rather than the light slippers I wore for the dancing.
So magician's assistants try to keep your magician happy and maybe they will invent a new illusion for you, to serve a whim of theirs.