Brilliant
By Mike Rogers
On February
8, 2000 the phone lines everywhere were jammed
with the recent sad news in magic. The Internet
was a beehive as magicians around the world
related the news, expressed sorrow, and grieved
in numerous missives. Doug Henning left this
life the previous day. This column is not intended
to relate or revisit the views expressed by
so many on February 8, 2000. Doug Henning was
brilliant. I doubt that any magician will deny
this. His brilliance is mirrored in the multitude
of words voiced February 8th. Yet I feel his
remarkable brilliance has yet to be reflected.
I'll explain.
I
first met Doug Henning in Chicago back in the
early 70s. It was during one of the early Frances
Marshall anniversary parities. Doug was not
yet famous, though he had just completed a tour
of several cities in Canada with his partner
at the time, a beautiful young girl who went
by the single name of Mars. The tour of Canada
was quite an accomplishment. Yet that's not
why he was brilliant.
Doug
joined Gene Anderson and me for breakfast one
morning. He was quite excited about having recently
been awarded a grant from his government to
study magic for one year. I was impressed for
I had never known of a grant being awarded to
study the art of conjuring. Yet that's not why
he was brilliant.
Doug
headed west and studied for several months under
the guidance of Dai Vernon, affectionately and
appropriately known as "The Professor." Choosing
to study and learn from Vernon was an intelligent
move indeed, but that's not the key to Doug's
brilliance. Doug later devoted time to learning
the adeptness of magic from Tony Slydini, another
keen decision. Yet that's not why he was brilliant.
Before
Doug Henning ever became famous he gave to magic
one of the most copied patter lines ever used,
and it's still being used today. When you see
a magician doing the Canvas Covered Box and
hear the line, "One, Two, Three it's me," you
are hearing the soul of Doug Henning. Yet that's
not why he was brilliant.
He brought
two different successful magic shows to Broadway,
something even the theatrical experts said couldn't
be done. Yet he did it. It had been tried before
without success. It's been done since, yet no
one has pulled it off as Doug Henning did. Yet
that's not why he was brilliant.
He followed
in the footsteps of Mark Wilson bringing several
network magic specials to TV viewers everywhere.
Some feel he opened the door to what we are
seeing today, and that may well be true. His
programs influenced an entire generation of
magicians who might never have been exposed
to good magic. Yet that's not why he was brilliant.
Doug
broke from tradition shunning formal attire
and conservative grooming, opting instead for
brightly colored casual clothing. He often looked
as if the only clothing stores he visited might
all have been on London's Carnaby Street. He
set the stage for bazaar attire in magic, a
trend strongly in effect even today. Yet that's
not why he was brilliant.
Doug
Henning surrounded himself with some of the
most astute minds in magic as is proven by his
close association with Charlie Reynolds. The
results were abundant for he grew, climbed,
and enjoyed big time success. He did it all,
and the word "failure" simply didn't exist in
the world of Doug Henning. Everything he touched
glowed with his luster. Yet that's not why he
was brilliant.
Doug
Henning did something I've never seen another
magician do. It might be the one thing that
will contribute to his legacy more than anything
I have mentioned above, and more than anything
we may have read on February 8, 2000. Here's
why Doug Henning was brilliant beyond all expectations.
He had
the wisdom to quit while he was at the top.
