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THE ARTISTRY OF A MODERN MASTER by F. Greenbough Teacher |
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| Recently this writer was contemplating one of the final stories in a journalistic career spanning nearly 60 years. I thought about what I did not know; what I hadn't covered. From tea between Churchill and Roosevelt; civil rights fought for worldwide, I've covered many a good part of this planet. Then over dinner one of my grandchildren asked, "Toddy (that's me, your scribe), how do magician's do their tricks?" |
I realized that as a sophisticate that lived in Franco Spain and slugged gin with Hemingway, I did not know. Enter a modern master. Across the boulevard in the South of France, my answer arrived. |
Great Fantasini, or show biz smarm like famous Vegas players. He did not cut a woman in half nor float her lighter than air. He is his own special effect. Dazzling with jewelry; his finger ring acting like small bolts of lightning erupting with thunderous, wonderous crashes. A dagger proffered, a card impossibly located, a silk scarf bountifully arriving playfully in a woman's breast, and I realized in aged innocence, some things should be remain forever mysterious. |
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One might say, magically. A young American magician currently on assignment was delaying crowds from their dinner; displaying skills honed since childhood. Dressed simply in black trousers, jacket and a red shirt, he might have been invisible were it not for the waves of applause. He wears what appears to be a wedding ring, though would not confirm his background or his age. Mystery surrounded him. Intrigue called. He was articulate, gentle, fiery with passion for what he called his "dying art." His name is really Ben Robinson, not the |
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