| Shorewood
native Ben Seidman thrills crowds with his magical shows
throughout the country. |
 |
The crowd of
kids and adults gathered around Ben Seidman as his fingers fluttered
around the deck of cards. His lean digits were like a hummingbird
about to land in the courtyard of Lynden Sculpture Garden. After a few
waves and moves in a shuffle that would make a chemin de fer croupier
envious, out pops the correct card previously selected by one of the
youngsters. Applause all around.
Prestidigitator
Seidman fell in love with magic when he was a youngster. As he
recalls, it all began when a man wearing a multicolored costume pulled
a small object out of his mom’s ear. In retrospect, it was probably
weird and invasive, he says, but he had never been more mystified. He
then went on to do his first magic act at age 6. "I’d like to
think that I’ve gotten much better since then," he laughs.
Seidman, now 27,
eventually graduated from Shorewood High in 2003 and from UW-Eau
Claire in 2007. He spent his final year of college at UNLV, which he
admits was a blatant excuse to study magic with the world’s best.
His folks, Susan and Michael Seidman, have been supportive all along
his career path — one that has included a stint as resident magician
at Mandalay Bay Resort & Casino in Las Vegas.
"The job
sort of came to me. I met and performed for some of the
decision-makers, and they liked the idea of having something
unique," he says. "Las Vegas is known for elaborate
production shows, but at that time there weren’t very many places to
see magic up close."
For Seidman, it
was the experience of a lifetime. "I was out of college two years
and suddenly performing at one of the nicest hotels in Las
Vegas," he says.
Seidman lives in
Los Angeles where he’s been performing at the Magic Castle in
Hollywood and the Comedy and Magic Club in Hermosa Beach. Yet, most of
the time he’s on the road, doing much of his own booking.
"Show
business is a constant roller coaster. Sometimes life is nonstop
travel; other times I’m writing and creating material at home. But
in general, home is whatever hotel I happen to be staying," he
says. "When I call the front desk to ask for a wake-up call, the
receptionist sometimes asks my room number. That’s not fair. I don’t
remember what city I’m in, let alone the room number."
For Seidman,
casino audiences differ vastly — depending on the level of alcohol
consumption, he laughs. "When you have a regular show, but you
aren’t a celebrity, people will come to watch but don’t know
entirely what to expect," he says. "This can be great, or
terrible. If someone’s idea of magic is putting girls in boxes and
their idea of comedy is telling fart jokes, there’s a good chance
they’re not going to like my show."
Seidman doesn’t
confide how his tricks work — not even to his parents — because he
doesn’t want to rob anyone of those moments of wonder. "I don’t
think it’s fair to tell. Good magic is one of the only ways we can
feel like a kid again," he says. He’s noticed people view magic
differently, guessing that about 30 percent of his audiences think
they want to know how tricks are done. "But they don’t. If I
were to tell them they would just regret asking," Seidman says.
For
him, the most fun about being a magician is just being a magician.
"The simple act of doing magic tricks for a living? It’s
craziness! Anytime I find myself in a conversation with a celebrity or
staying in a five-star hotel that a client paid for, I feel like an
impostor and I wonder how I ended up here," he says.
Seidman also
finds fun moments within the creative process, particularly when
working on a television show. For instance, he recently found himself
covered in liquid latex operating power tools and wondering what he’s
doing with his life. That was the same day he ordered several live
animals, a human torture chamber, three walnuts and a Pippi
Longstocking costume. "How could that possibly not be fun?"
he asks. "Besides, have you ever asked for a 50-gallon milk can,
2 quarts of spray adhesive and a chicken? It’s safe to say I have a
weird job."
As an
entertainer, Seidman realizes every audience is different. Adjusting
for age is elementary for him. "In any performance situation, if
something feels off, it’s really fun to change the approach or the
tone and steer the night back into laughter and amazement," he
says. "The key is to treat every gig like it’s just as
important whether you’re performing in front of 2,500 people in a
beautiful theater or 30 squatters in an anarchist collective in Salt
Lake City." And, yes, that happened.
Learn more about
the not-too-simple Seidman at www.BenSeidman.com