Nothing Is Impossible: The Real-Life Adventures of a Street Magician (31 page)

SERIES TWO AND
three took me to so many new and exciting places. I feel so fortunate. It’s often the cases that places where there is extreme poverty are also places of incredible creativity. I saw that in Rio and there are examples throughout the whole history of film, music and art where the greatest work has emerged from places of hardship – Al Pacino was homeless when he first started out and had to sleep in a theatre!

A few years ago, I went to a centre for kids from my home town who had been expelled from school. They had been sent to a PRU (Pupil Referral Unit) and they were so rowdy. Before I did my first piece of magic, it was basically chaos; they were shouting, swearing and running around. Suddenly, I pulled a Polo mint out of my neck and it went very, very quiet. You could hear a pin drop. They were transfixed. I like that my magic can do that – break barriers and change a person’s frame of mind. The kids at the PRU were the same as the kids in Rio; completely mesmerised while they watched and then full of noise, laughter and astonishment when I finished. It was a similar scene when I intervened with a group of rival fans at a football match between Bradford City and Leeds United several years ago. Just as things threatened to turn nasty, I pulled out a deck of cards. For a moment you had the two groups of opposing fans laughing together; their hostilities temporarily forgotten. I’m not saying magic can heal the world, but it definitely made it a better place for me and the people I performed to that day.

I try to look at the extremes of my life – where I’ve come from and where I’m going – to learn something. Otherwise, what’s the point? I really believe you have to question things to improve every aspect of who you are. Because the first series of
Dynamo: Magician Impossible
did so well, I could have made a second series full of superstars and Lamborghinis. But that didn’t interest me. I’ve always been about taking my magic to everyday people in everyday situations. Series two and three were different.

The desire to go to places that other people would avoid goes back to my
Concrete Playground
DVD, which I made after
Underground Magic
in 2006. When we shot that, we went to two rival estates in Birmingham: Lozells and Ladywood. I don’t know how it is now, but back then they were at war with each other. It was really quite serious. We got in there through a friend of ours and we went specifically to show another side these notorious estates.

If you watch
Concrete Playground
, the reactions were a joy. These kids were brilliant – the fact we had bothered to go there and do something for them was really appreciated. We also got to hear what they were up to and it turned out there were some amazing rappers, singers and producers in that part of Birmingham. So much talent goes unseen because there’s no outlet for it. By using footage of these brilliant, warm, hilarious kids and talented teenagers we took away that hard, scary image that people assume they will find in deprived areas.

With
Dynamo: Magician Impossible
, I wanted to go to Rio to show the other side of the favelas, rather than the stereotypical images we are often fed. If I was in New York, I’d rather take my camera to Harlem’s Rucker Park and show the basketball players some tricks instead of hanging out in a ritzy uptown restaurant. Even when I walked down a building in LA, I chose to do it far away from Hollywood. Downtown LA is a pretty rough place. I want to take my magic to people who aren’t ordinarily exposed to the wonders of life on a daily basis. I’ll never forget the feeling Gramps conjured up inside me when he magically changed the length of those laces. I’ve never let go of it and want everyone else to feel it too. It doesn’t equate to anything else.

I hope that by taking magic to people from all walks of life I can show that really we’re all the same. That, to me, is what’s so interesting – revealing that you can meet incredibly welcoming, hospitable people in places we assume will be hostile. Like in
Rio, it is sometimes difficult because people can be very wary and distrusting of strangers, but I try where I can. I like to take my magic to places that most performers don’t bother to go to. I wanted to give people something for nothing; especially to people who are rich in spirit.

Magic uncovers people’s personalities. We all put up a front, but magic breaks through those barriers. It takes us to the common ground that everyone shares, to the thing that connects us all together. Everyone wants to be happy, to laugh, to be amazed. My favourite thing about magic is the honesty it brings out in people; when we see something that amazes us, our natural, pure emotion comes out. You don’t see that much these days.

CHAPTER 14

REALITY IS WHAT YOU MAKE IT

‘WHAT’S GOING ON
here, G – has someone been murdered or something?’ Gilera slowed the car down as we looked at the eight police officers and five security officers trying, unsuccessfully, to hold back the crowds of people.

‘Something doesn’t add up. There are thousands of people here, what’s going on?’ murmured G, stopping the car altogether.

Dan had told me that I had a show at 3 p.m. at Whitehaven Festival. I would be performing some magic for people in the VIP area. I thought it would be some kind of glorified village fete. The Red Arrows were doing a display, Martin from
Coronation Street
(who now makes cheese) had a stall and the Bay City Rollers were closing the night with a headline set. I wasn’t even booked on the main stage; I’d be wandering around doing my magic among the festival-goers.

Then I got there, and 12,000 people swarmed to see me.

It’s really hard for me to consider myself famous. I’ve had to accept that it’s a part of my life now, but fame just isn’t a word I associate with myself. I do magic. I don’t do fame.

When the organisers announced that I would be doing a walkthrough around the town, every single one of the 12,000 festival
attendees rushed over to the main street. Obviously, they didn’t have the resources to cope with such huge numbers. We quickly parked up and the organisers hastily reorganised a performance in the nearby arena.

Not long before Whitehaven, I innocently tweeted that I’d be doing an appearance at Westfield Stratford City in London. That was the first time I really saw a response from ‘fans’. I was appearing at store opening for adidas. When we got there, I saw a huge queue had formed outside the store, meaning only a small percentage of the people gathered would get in. They’d let ten people in at a time and so I moved as quickly as I could so I could see as many people as possible. One girl was so nervous when she met me that she was physically shaking.

All I could hear from outside were people chanting: ‘Dynamo! Dynamo! Dynamo!’ I decided to leave the store so I could say ‘hi’ to as many people as possible. A couple of the store security guards escorted us as I started to sign autographs. But then, all of a sudden, it got really mental. The crowd began jostling around and we were worried that people would get hurt because everyone was pushing and shoving each other. It was mad. Before I knew it another three security guys were by my side, leading me down the escalators. Behind me, I could see everyone running for the stairs, crowding around the balconies and ahead of us there was a large group gathering at the bottom of the escalators. I couldn’t believe that people were doing this because of me. Eventually, we had to get a police escort to get us out of the shopping centre and into the car park. I think the security guys were as surprised as us – no one had expected a reaction like that.

I do find it really weird. I understand people get excited to meet musicians and actors – I certainly did when I first started coming to London and I’d meet people I admired like the rapper Wiley. ‘Oh my God, Wiley, it’s you, you’re so sick. Can I show you some of my magic?’ Who doesn’t get excited to meet someone they
respect and admire? But when you have thousands of people screaming and asking for autographs and near enough knocking each other over to get a look at me, it’s very overwhelming.

MY LIFE HAS
definitely changed. I’ll never forget the day
Dynamo: Magician Impossible
aired and we had twelve times the number of viewers that the channel normally gets. We’d broken all records on Watch. I was at a cash point and I had £7 in my bank account. I couldn’t even get a tenner out. I had the biggest show on Watch and no money. But a week later, I went from having £7 to more money than I’d had in my account, ever. Obviously, now things are a bit different and I don’t have to worry as much about money as I used to. But fame doesn’t always equate to vast riches – at least not straight away.

I am slowly starting to see a bit of money, so I’m trying to be wise with it. We’ve all heard about the stars that went bankrupt because they were stupid with their cash. I’m interested in making lifelong investments in things that are close to me.

One thing that magic has given me is an appreciation for other art forms. I’m certainly a lot more cultured than I used to be, because magic has given me access to places and people I might never have seen or met. When I’ve performed in palaces and museums, I’ve been exposed to the most magnificent art, artefacts and architecture.

I’ve got a Banksy which is one of twenty-five. I’m trying to invest in things that are a moment in time. I do like fast cars and some of the other finer things in life, but now I’m trying to spend the money I have wisely.