Magicians Need To Watch Timon Krause

If you’ve read my book Only Ideas, you’ll know I dedicated an entire two-page spread to one of my golden rules—stop watching magic. People will ask which magicians I enjoy watching or which magic shows I enjoyed recently. I tend to give them the names of magicians I enjoyed watching as a kid or TV magic specials that I begged my parents to let me stay up and watch with them.

I cannot stress enough how much the ability to do my job, creating, writing and producing magic for television, can be unravelled entirely if I watch magic. I see it as part of my job to avoid watching magic at all costs. I keep a rough eye on new releases, and obviously, I take note of clips that go viral and are well received by viewers. But, for the most part, I avoid watching magic at all costs.

In this article, I will tell you why you should stop watching magic, even just for six months, but the truth is you already know why. Even this far into the article, you might be feeling guilty for only consuming magic content. Now is your opportunity to shift your focus and improve your magic by never watching magic again.

When I was in the writers’ room with Magic For Humans, most writers were comedians with zero magic knowledge. It was amazing. Willman and the head writer would stress the importance of never watching magic to the writers. The ones who didn’t would suggest the most eccentric and unique ideas. The ones who did would slowly start pitching more limited ideas to the group. You could tell almost immediately if one of the writers had searched for magic videos on YouTube.

The striking difference of Willman’s writer’s room, compared to other rooms I’ve written in, was that you never heard anyone say, “ah, Derren already did that.”

Willman’s rule of not watching magic paid off massively. It’s a rule I adored and had followed myself for many years. The team created many ideas in that room that the writers would have never created if magicians had written that show. A fun example might be Sleight of Ham. A runner pitched by the excellent Sarah Sherman to an immediately delighted room. Sarah is now a new cast member of Saturday Night Live and continues to pitch meat-related ideas. She’s amazing.

I like Timon Krause.

I decided such no more than twenty seconds into his TedX performance featured at the top of this article. It was him asking calmly for “music” and then that first note from the piano that did it for me. He could have done anything next. He could have performed the worst magic in the world. He didn’t, but I would have still felt inspired nonetheless.

That feeling of the music coming in. It’s a feeling I’d felt as a kid watching Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World. When that opening credits music kicks in, it feels incredible. I can best describe it as feeling both assured, intrigued and excited. You know you’re in safe hands—something you rarely think for at least five minutes in most magic shows. As you nervously wait for the first trick to end so that you can know, the magician knows what they’re doing.

It took just one note on a piano to put the audience at ease.

There’s a broader context as to why I was so excited to see a magician mixing magic with music in the way Krause did. I’d recently returned from the Fringe festival in 2018 and had seen perhaps the best friend show ever taken to a fringe. It was called Electrolyte, and it was my first experience of something called gig theatre.

I cannot tell you how much everyone adored Electrolyte that year. It will come as no surprise that when I venture to the Edinburgh fringe festival year after year, I avoid the countless magic shows—opting only to see Pete Firman instead.

We all, all of us, need to stop watching magic. We need to look elsewhere for our inspiration. The more passions you find elsewhere, the more unique and exciting your magic can become. And it doesn’t take huge interests and changes to make your magic feel unique. Just look at Penn utilising his passion for bass to create a routine that feels unique to them.

Sure, music is excellent. But there’s also science, juggling, comedy, theatre, technology, the news. It takes one simple idea that you can then apply to your magic. It’s important to say that I’m not just talking about looking elsewhere for method inspiration. I’m on about finding ideas for routines, gift wraps, presentations and themes.

You might have read about a blind boy who can see by clicking and decide that’s a great in for your next card trick. Maybe you are fascinated by juggling and use this before going into an impossible balance trick. Do you have a passion for beatboxing, and can you use beatboxing to enhance a non-visual magic trick?

All it takes is one idea that intrigues you, and then you can springboard out from that idea. Expand upon it, add to it, perform something alongside it or simply imagine it as you perform. All of the best magicians are already doing this.

Magic is an unwieldy, unexpected and rarely understood artform. Tie it down to something understood, adored and reassuring to an audience. Put them at ease, even if you plan to go in a different direction. It’s more likely that an audience has listened to music, seen a play, watched a movie, experienced technology or psychology than they have seen the invisible deck before.

Finally, I believe part of the problem most magicians have is their useless obsession with methods. I can’t blame them—they became magicians because they wanted to know a method to a trick. Now, look where it’s got them. Many performing magicians have a misplaced excitement upon methods rather than the performing itself.

By never watching magic again, I've found that those same magicians become more excited to perform again, incorporating their new interests and collaborating with people from other fields.

Stop watching magic, if only for six months.

Trust me on this one.