Is originality overrated?
In art, nothing is more thrilling than new ideas. And clichés are the enemy of man with standards. Yet, have you looked into that culture recently?
Reboots, sequels, and franchises flood cinemas. Jukebox musicals are still popular on Broadway. TikTok’s virality is often built on repurposed songs and dances. Given the amount of derivative works, I doubt that the demand for the new is dwindling. As the introduction of artificial intelligence into our lives accelerates, so does the risk. What can artists and writers do that ChatGPT can’t? We need answers now.
By dramatizing the anxiety behind the questions, “A Simulacrum,” a fascinating idea play disguised as a magic show at Atlantic Stage 2, stuck in my mind and, in a way that rarely happens in a collection of tricks, made me ponder. to increase height. Ever since Penn and Teller hit the scene, every magician has seemed to dismantle illusions while doing magic. But while this peek behind the curtain is something new, it’s not exactly original, as its title suggests. That contradiction becomes part of the point.
The show recreates a series of conversations between magician Steve Cuifo and director Lucas Nass (both credited as playwrights) about the development of the film over the years. All we can hear is the hunato on stage, the only recording in which Cuifo performed it. Hunaz asks Quifo to show him a trick, and artistic tension arises between the collaborators after Cuifo shows him a trick many times.
The crux of their conflict is that Hunath, an artist in the world of theater rather than magic, seems unimpressed that many of his tricks are derived from previous sorcerers. He is indifferent to Quifo’s familiar but surprising trick of ripping up newspapers and putting them back together. Show me something new, says Hunas, as if it’s the only thing worth doing. Come up with a “perfect invention”.
Cuifo, with his tense but friendly smile, precise gait, and spiky hair, is puzzled, if not puzzled, by this request. “It’s all variations of something,” he says of magic. “Every technique is a variation.”
I’ve heard magicians say this offstage. The idea is that there are a limited number of tricks, and that anyone in a certain position in the field knows them to a greater or lesser degree. So the difference between good and good is more in the rigor of packaging, persona and performance than Illusion’s underlying novelty.
In other words, there is no such thing as a perfect invention. This idea has been incorporated into many of Magic’s shows, including the current hit “Inner His Circle” by Ashi His Wind, performed at Judson’s Gym in his Village in Greenwich. Conversations around theater tend to be a little different. Its history is full of revolutions and breaks with the past, and the occasional acknowledgment of influence is built into the work.
I would argue that this is a difference in style and rhetoric rather than content. All art is built on influences, old forms, inherited tropes and even great examples. Shakespeare was a habitual scheming thief. In a recent podcast from The Economist, quiz Employees were asked to guess whether the lyrics were from a Bob Dylan song or a ChatGPT imitation. They didn’t get it right. Dylan is often seen as the personification of originality, but of course his idiosyncratic mind operates similarly to his ChatGPT, collecting, synthesizing and processing references.
Cuifo is a more prosaic but accomplished performer and is open about his debts. He starts tricks by reading old magic books and quoting what Houdini did a century before him. Hunas shivers, saying that citing sources would prevent him from revealing what’s important: who he really is. In his director’s eyes, there seems to be some originality there. within yourself. And he tries to make Quifo vulnerable and accept failure.
Cuifo does not want to join it. He prefers to hide behind his craft. If he has one true magical skill, he says, it’s the ability to disappear.
Magic has historically maintained a narrow emotional palette. But this is changing. Derek Delgaudio’s 2017 stage show “In & of Itself” (which was made into a documentary on Hulu) is the last serious reinvention of the format, as it finds a way to not only surprise but to impress people. became. His bravest trick is rooted in one of vulnerability rather than a show of skill. The big crescendo of the audience quietly reading the letter is more private and personal than magic ever. “A Simulacrum” aims for a similar effect, albeit more subtle, in a more somber and melancholy mood. This is less a show about magic than it is about the cost of doing it.
Confident, in control and always on top, the image of the showman is not unpredictable. This makes it a useful tool for misdirection or as a setup for surprise and reinvention.
At one point, Cuifo performs a card trick that seems rather understated, but this is the closest he comes to claiming originality. “In a way, I definitely made it my own,” he says. When he asked how long he had been working on this task, the magician replied that he was 14 years. Funas asked him to do it again, and when he did, the director said in a cruel touch:
Making art look effortless is the hardest and least appreciated job. Whatever Hunaz says, he clearly gets it, and his show takes on a casual, casual style, as if the audience were suddenly staring at two people at work on an ordinary day. I am aiming. The magic tricks are beautifully done, but not particularly rare. Quifo does the last one with a minimal pattern. He’s doing it for his wife, and you can hear it on the recording, but you can’t see it. She hates sorcerers and magic, which adds to the drama and poignancy. This trick is a nice feat, but it’s not meant to be played for fuss.
As the show progresses, the magician becomes more reserved. His physicality and patterns recede and project a strange melancholy. After all, it’s not even clear if he likes magic. “Yeah,” he mutters toward the big finale.
This is the most triumphant ending to a magic show I’ve ever seen. Does this weary understatement honestly reflect his feelings about his work, or is it simply an attempt to do something new? or both?
In art, the new and the old go hand in hand. The balance shifts from work to work, but one cannot be separated from the other. I won’t leave this show thinking that originality doesn’t matter. Far from it. It’s just unusual. That alone makes it valuable.
