When I was 14 years old I went to my first magic convention in Oklahoma. We had an unexpected bout of bad weather and many of the attendees were unable to make it, so it was a very lightly attended few days.
One of the guest speakers was Roger Klause.
I was an arrogant punk with Henry Hay's Magicians Handbook, a couple Paul Harris tricks, and a deck of scratchy Hoyle playing cards.
Late one night several of the "old" guys were sitting around showing tricks. (I was at least smart enough to sit quietly and soak it all up.) After an hour or so Roger Klause looked at me and said, "Show me something kid."
I did a couple of tricks with shaking knees and a quivery voice. Roger watched, giving very little reaction. When I was done, Roger took my beat up deck and slid them aside. Then, he handed me his pack of red Tally Ho's. "Do it again." he said, "Slower."
I did my ace assembly again, slowly, as Roger occasionally reached in to adjust my hands or reposition a card. When I was done he smiled broadly and shook my hand. "I think we just might make you a card man." He told me to keep the cards. My very first deck of Tallys. I still have them.
Over the rest of the conference Roger taught me about the refining of routines, the grace of "half moves", and using one effect to misdirect from another's setup.
I had the opportunity to study in a small group with Roger a few more times. He was a demanding teacher, a stubborn perfectionist, and great magician.
Roger passed away this weekend after a long fight with a painful illness. I'll still think of him every time I open a deck of Tallys.
One of the guest speakers was Roger Klause.
I was an arrogant punk with Henry Hay's Magicians Handbook, a couple Paul Harris tricks, and a deck of scratchy Hoyle playing cards.
Late one night several of the "old" guys were sitting around showing tricks. (I was at least smart enough to sit quietly and soak it all up.) After an hour or so Roger Klause looked at me and said, "Show me something kid."
I did a couple of tricks with shaking knees and a quivery voice. Roger watched, giving very little reaction. When I was done, Roger took my beat up deck and slid them aside. Then, he handed me his pack of red Tally Ho's. "Do it again." he said, "Slower."
I did my ace assembly again, slowly, as Roger occasionally reached in to adjust my hands or reposition a card. When I was done he smiled broadly and shook my hand. "I think we just might make you a card man." He told me to keep the cards. My very first deck of Tallys. I still have them.
Over the rest of the conference Roger taught me about the refining of routines, the grace of "half moves", and using one effect to misdirect from another's setup.
I had the opportunity to study in a small group with Roger a few more times. He was a demanding teacher, a stubborn perfectionist, and great magician.
Roger passed away this weekend after a long fight with a painful illness. I'll still think of him every time I open a deck of Tallys.
