Sleightly Tricky by John Shryock
Reviewed by Jamy Ian Swiss (originally published in Genii July, 2005)
Mr. Shryock is a fresh-faced lad who, according to the back cover of his recent volume,
has been performing close-up magic professionally since he was 16 years old, in restaurants, trade shows, conventions, cruise ships, and "many times at the world famous Magic Castle in Hollywood." Now he has apparently turned his young and as yet ungnarled hands to lecturing, equipped with an instructional video and this manuscript.
I'm not sure how long ago Mr. Shryock celebrated that fateful 16th birthday, but the
event is likely still reasonably fresh in his memory. In that time Mr. Shryock has
obviously devoted a great deal of enthusiasm and energy to his magic, and has managed
to produce some reasonably good ideas in the process. There are 14 items in this
booklet, all with cards and coins save a routine with the cups-and-balls. Most are
variants of well-worn plots, including Cigarette Through Quarter, Reverse Matrix, a
combined Triumph and Color Changing Deck, a triple-change Spellbound, a four ace
revelation, and a multiple selection routine, a la Fechter, Eason, et al.
Some of these ideas are quite good, some of them are not, and some of them are
generally in the range of acceptably sound but not terribly distinctive. Do we really need
to see another assortment of one performer's choice of revelations in a multiple
selection routine? Do we really need to see another reverse four card matrix, even if it
does work acceptably well for the author (and considering David Arthur's eminently
practical method in Kaufman's Coinmagic, which does not require a re-counting of the
coins before the climax)? Is Vernon's Triumph actually improved by the addition of a
color-changing deck climax, or might these two plots be best exploited separately—as
Vernon himself did?
While I have my opinions in these matters—and you may already have guessed them—
they are nonetheless interesting questions, the consideration of which can involve some
complex and subtle thinking. This brings me to what I find most striking about the
material in this manuscript. I find myself relatively unconcerned with whether this
material is good, bad, or merely indifferent—all of these qualities apply to at least some
of Mr. Shryock's ideas. However, the thought which struck me most strongly upon
considering this material, and which continues to return to me since, is this: are both
Mr. Shryock, and the community of magic, best served by his venture into the world of
instructing and guiding other magicians?
I would propose that the answer to this question is no, but I do not say this as a damning
criticism of the quality of his work. In fact, I must apologize to Mr. Shryock for
appearing to single him out with these remarks, for the fact is they are applicable to
countless other creative performers and instructors. Mr. Shryock's enthusiasm and
energy fairly jump off the page. So does his youthful naivete. These attributes no doubt
lend some charm to his performance, and quality to his thought. But is he qualified to
lead us, and if so, where will he lead us to? And of perhaps greater concern to Mr.
Shryock—where will he himself be led to in such a course of action?
Again, I do not mean to denigrate Mr. Shryock as a magician, much less as a person. But
to be completely frank and clear about the matter, it does seem to me that Mr. Shryock,
first and foremost, would be far better served as an artist by continuing to explore and
refine his art in front of real audiences—say, for several decades— whereupon he quite
likely will have much to say of great value if he was inclined to return to his colleagues and share his wisdom and experience with us. Performing and lecturing for magicians
will barely improve his performance skills, if at all, and in fact they may well suffer by
the experience. The point, again, is not whether his ideas are good or bad—or even
which ideas are good and which are bad—but rather, would that Mr. Shryock held his
instructional tendencies in check until such time that he above all could tell the
difference, and then explain it to us. I assure him that, given twenty years more or less,
some of his best ideas will remain in his repertoire and likely be improved, while some
will fall away as he discovers their flaws for himself. But I offer an important caution: if
his future contemplations are influenced as much or more by the community of amateur
magicians and lecture audiences than by the public and perhaps masters older and more
experienced than Mr. Shryock, then he runs the risk of never achieving the requisite
wisdom to be able to best make those choices for himself. And, given all of these
implications for Mr. Shryock's personal future, the rest of the magic community must
consider these issues for ourselves, as well. Who shall we choose to guide us and be our
mentors? Granted, the greatest artists—the greatest human beings regardless of specific
pursuits—remain students of a sort throughout their lives. But mightn't we best draw
our inspiration from such "students" who long ago graduated, rather than those who
have barely completed the fundamental course of study?
Specifically, it would be nice if the author learned that it is Tom Ogden, Fred Kaps, and
Eddie Fechter—not Ogdon, Kapps, or Fletcher. Mr. Shryock's use of the Vernon Depth
Illusion (aka "Tilt") would no doubt be improved—as would the reader's—if he was
aware of Mr. Vernon's advice of lowering the deck rather than raising the card when
getting into position. While the author's crediting is clearly sincere, it is just as clearly
naive—he tells us what he knows, but at times he does not know enough. While it is
perhaps gracious to acknowledge David Roth's Hanging Coins in Mr. Shryock's trick by
the same name, in fact, the idea of hanging an invisible coin goes back to John Ramsay,
and what made Mr. Roth's seminal routine so distinctive (and revolutionary) was the
technique and concealment, which allowed for the display of the apparently empty
hands as the coins vanished. Mr. Shryock's entry is a far cry from this, if he stopped after
the third vanish and asked his audience where the coins are, my money would be on the
likelihood of them offering a correct answer. On the other hand, Mr. Shryock gives us
his routine for the Cups and Balls, designed to solve some problems unique to the
particular set of miniature cups that Mr. Shryock uses. Apparently one is unable to
easily conceal three balls under one of these cups, and this presented some challenges to
Mr. Shryock in developing his routine. (While he does not specifically identify the cups,
I believe them to be an interesting set of copper cups manufactured in Italy, and
imported at one time by Bob Little; while each cup is only 2-1/2 inches high, they will
accept a one-inch ball between nested cups, and a 1-1/2-inch large load. Whether this
routine will be of great use to anyone not owning a similar set of cups remains an open
question.) While most of the elements in Mr. Shryock's routine are adapted from classic
sources, he has solved his problems effectively, and also includes the rarely seen
sequence wherein three balls under the center cup magically separate into one under
each cup.
Mr. Shryock has gently offered us a few pages of ideas that, like any original idea, he no
doubt has great personal affection for. I honestly do not wish to demean or dismiss his efforts. Clearly, they are sincere. They no doubt serve him well in performance, and
provide useful fodder in his exchanges and encounters with other magicians. But there
are issues one must consider before draping one's self, or any one else for that matter, in
the mantle of teacher and guide. Were magicians on both sides of the lecturer's, podium
a bit more cautious in these matters, the benefits would accrue all around.