was thinking about the implications of that and fantasizing that he might actually do it one
day, when a knock came at the door. The fire was getting closer to his apartment, and every-
one was being evacuated.
A few hours later, all of Paul’s worldly possessions really did fit neatly into the trunk of his
car. Everything else, his furniture, his TV and stereo, the art pieces, and even a bag of pho-
tographs and fan mail were reduced to ashes. He found himself surrounded by neighbors who
were all too stunned to speak, or wailing in despair. It was a surreal situation — with heart-
break and pain all around him, Paul found he was feeling happier than he ever had. “I real-
ized I was free. The things I just couldn’t let go of on my own were gone and I was liberated
from them. I saw, once and for all, that we don’t own things, our things own us.”
We were eating gourmet jellybeans and talking about magic theory late into the
evening. I surprised him by suddenly asking if there were any effects in his catalogue that
he wished he hadn’t published. “Not really. You already know the things that were dated
or represented a point of view I didn’t have anymore that we dropped for The Art of
Astonishment. Other than that I’m pretty happy with everything. Not every item was a
gem, but I think all of them had some element that was worthwhile.”
I brought up a couple of effects that I thought were sub-standard, including Whirlpool
(a strange penetration where one card cuts a spiral in another, published in Close-up
Kinda Guy, 1983). Paul agreed that wasn’t one of his better efforts, but offered that he
once met a magician who said it was his absolute favorite trick. “So you just never know
about these things. One man’s ill-conceived idea…” I finished the sentence for him, “…is All of Paul’s previous works were collected and
another man’s hatchet job.” Paul and I have always shared a love of good callbacks. updated in his Art of Astonishment trilogy in
1996. Wayne Houchin and Harris take a break
Mike Maxwell negotiated the rights to all of Paul’s published material and wanted to do a from filming Paul’s latest project [below]. A recent
book of “the complete Paul Harris.” Paul wasn’t too keen on the idea, until he realized it was photo of Paul and his sister, Janet [bottom].
a place to publish all the new material he had been working on and an opportunity to
express something he had been thinking about while wandering around aimlessly. All of his
previous work was based on the idea that the most distinguishing part of magic — the aston-
ishment — needed to be softened and made palatable by scripting and performance. He
had come around 180 degrees on that point and was theorizing that the astonishment part
of good magic was the most important thing, and where all of the focus should be. He was
building a case for astonishment as a positive experience, as a way to break paradigms,
and possibly as a therapeutic tool. He felt in certain ways that the success of his previous
writings had taken magicians away from what was vital in magic and wanted to take a stab
at setting things right.
PHOTO: DANA HOCKING
We worked together on The Art of Astonishment books for well over a year — testing
material, arguing fine points of theory, philosophy, and craft, and trying to capture for the
reader Paul’s new vision of what magic was, and what it might be. The old material was still
great, of course, still amazing, but the underlying philosophy of softening and obfuscating
the astonishment was at odds with the new material where “being totally fooled” was front
and center. Astonishment was our watchword and guiding aesthetic.
During this time, another project was giving Paul the opportunity to test his ideas about
astonishment in a larger medium. Bill Kalush had introduced Paul to a young unknown magi-
cian named David Blaine. “This very intense kid did a standard magic effect for me, but
there was something in his performance that really resonated. The way he looked at me, the
way he paused, something in his manner made me feel like I was seeing real magic.” Blaine
PHOTO: COURTESY JANET MOTTA
was working on a TV project for ABC and was frequently calling on Paul to discuss the show,
his character, and develop a look and a tone that would have impact. I was often a fly on
the wall, hearing only Paul’s side of long phone conversations about astonishment, about an
appeal to “everyman,” and keeping the tone urban and gritty, and always, always, returning
to ways of putting the focus on people experiencing the impossible.
The critical triumph of The Art of Astonishment books, and the phenomenal success of
David Blaine: Street Magic, convinced Paul that his new ideas about the importance of
astonishment were not only valid, but represented a way for the art of magic to pull itself up
into the light of public acceptance and achieve the artistic respectability he had always
known it deserved.
Before Paul left for the night, I asked him some questions about David Blaine. He
talked for a while about the TV shows, about the stunts that made Blaine famous, and
regaled me with personal anecdotes that were deemed “off the record.” He got very seri-
ous for a moment and said, “Blaine is a very special person. He understands our culture
and image and celebrity and everything that goes with sustaining that better than anyone
I’ve met. It’s also important to him that magic gains a place of importance in the public
eye. He really loves magic and everything about it.” I pressed Paul to go on record with M AGIC • june 2007 57
