The End of An Era
Al Cohen, the legendary and beloved Washington D.C. magic dealer, passed away on December 13th. To mark his passing, I am posting here the cover feature article I wrote for Genii magazine that appeared in the March 2002 issue. (If you are a Genii subscriber you can find it, accompanied by a wealth of great photos, in the digital archive.)
The article was actually entitled: “The End of an Era - Al’s Magic Shop,” because in December of 2001, Al had announced he was retiring. He did indeed retire and move to Florida. His cherished wife, Alice, passed, and Al remarried, and had a great many happy years with Rita. Till the very end he could be found charming a waitress, or most anyone in a friendly encounter, with a magic trick. He certainly had a great run, and a great life, and above all, he made the most of it. Although the original article was titled to mark the end of the era of Al in his magic shop, today marks the end of an era with the passing of one of the last great magic demonstrators of his time. But as you will see in the article, Al was much more than a demonstrator—I always considered him a great magician. As well as a great person. Thanks for the memories, Al.
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“Al Cohen is probably the greatest magic demonstrator in America,” declares Eugene Burger. “And,” he adds, “he’s a wonderful person.”
Al Cohen has been selling magic for more than half a century. It all began while working for his father’s gift shop, “The Oriental Bazaar,” on Pennsylvania Ave. in Washington, D.C. Started in 1936 by Al’s dad, Macye, when Al was a young boy, the shop sold gifts and novelties, souvenirs, imports from the Far East, greeting cards, and even had a stamps and coins section in the back. While attending college to obtain an accounting degree (after a change from an early major in – get this – entomology!), Al also worked at the store, and amid the wide variety of goods, father and son added a small display of magic tricks from the S.S. Adams Co. Although Al recalls having been fooled by a college roommate’s trick with a thumbtip, it was playing around with the Adams merchandise that led to magic taking a hold on Al’s life – and eventually, on the store, which would finally evolve into the eponymous Al’s Magic Shop, now in its third location.
Al recalls his discovery of magic. “I thought, this is great! And the next thing I knew, some of the magicians in town started coming in – I didn’t even know what a magician was! And the next thing I knew, I got invited up to the I.B.M., to Ring 50, and they made me join that – I didn’t know what a magic club was! Then one of the guys says, ‘You’ve got to go to a convention.’ I said, ‘What the hell is that?’ ‘A magic convention!’ This guy’s name was Ken Sheelor. Affectionately known as ‘Doc’ Sheelor, Ken was a very good magician, he loved magic and he was very active in all the clubs. So Ken says, ‘Well, you should go as a dealer.’ So he took me up to an M.A.E.S. convention in York, Pennsylvania.”
There Al had a life-changing experience. He found himself in the dealer’s room sandwiched between two legendary performer-pitchmen: Jack Chanin and Irv Weiner. “When people ask me how I came to do what I do as a demonstrator, I tell them I think the answer is nervousness! Because those guys really intimidated me. After that I realized, the next time there’s only one way to survive. Block them out like they’re not there, do my own thing, and never stop.”
And he never did. Of course, it’s a long way from making that resolution to becoming the master demonstrator Al is universally recognized as today. Years ago I told Al that he reminded me of Lou Tannen, and he appreciated the compliment. “The two dealers who I think influenced me the most were Lou Tannen and Frank Garcia,” says Al, recalling the days when Garcia and Jackie Flosso had a magic stand in the lobby of the McAlpin Hotel in New York City. “I learned a lot from Lou Tannen.” And like Lou, who could demonstrate hundreds of items with routine polish and panache, Al loves people, loves performing, and loves magic. In his hands the simplest tricks are transformed into a flash of infectious fun.
Eugene Burger says the first word that comes to mind about an Al Cohen performance is “charming!” But he also ticks off the features of an Al Cohen trick demo. “One, his presentations are very short, to the point. And you say to yourself as you watch him do this, ‘I could do that!’ And it’s all very positive. You don’t have to ask what’s new at Al’s; you’ll have six tricks demonstrated before you know it! Sure, it’s salesmanship, but it’s not aggressive in a bad way. It’s positive. You walk into his shop and instantly it’s, ‘Let me show you this neat thing that just came in!’”
All of us have drawers full of merchandise that we’ll never use, the victim of a clever ad or an effective pitch. At my stage of the game, we like to think those experiences are behind us. But Al Cohen can still hypnotize even the most wizened magic purchaser. “Al Cohen weaves a spell!” as Eugene Burger tells it. “I saw him demonstrating at a convention some years ago, and he was selling that trick with the radio that goes under your arm.” I know the trick. “You mean, ‘A.M. Ink?” Oddly enough, I bought one once myself. “Yes, that’s it. And his handling of it was so charming, he cast a spell upon me, and I bought one. When I got home to Chicago I took it out – and I came to my senses! I don’t want a radio under my arm! I bought that, I bought a packet trick in a red plastic wallet – what was I doing? But I was so swept up in what he was doing – in the charm and delight of it – he had cast a spell on me! And I got my $25 just watching it and thinking about what made it great. I didn’t want to do it but I was under his spell. I could see myself doing it!”
For Al, nothing beats the fun of working conventions, and that’s how most magicians outside of the D.C. vicinity know him. “I never got tired of doing that,” he says. “Some conventions, you’re there working from 9 a.m. until late, with barely a break – you just keep doing it and doing it. But as long as the crowd is there, I love it!” Laughing, he recalls being at the Columbus Magi-Fest once, where each dealer has his own private room. It seems that Al got to demonstrating for his “captive audience,” as he puts it, going through a string of items without letup, until finally a guy in the back shouted out, “For chrissake, will you stop long enough so we can buy something!”
Al’s boundless energy is matched by his infinite stock of stories about convention demos. He tells of a time in England when he was stuck alone at a tiny six-foot table next to a local dealer who had 18 feet of counter space, portable spotlights and three demonstrators. “They were all sitting around with their hands folded while I never stopped.” Another time a dealer in a similar situation “got so mad he just packed up and left!” And Al recalls fondly one of his greatest compliments, when at the end of several days at a St. Louis convention, Al’s next-door dealer room neighbor, no less than Jay Marshall, declared, “I will never take a booth next to you again. Never!” Now that’s high praise indeed.
When I think of Al Cohen, “demonstrating” really isn’t the right word, it’s performing – and the dealer counter just happens to be his best and favorite venue. When Al brought in a new item, he wasn’t just expanding his catalog, he was really adding a trick to his repertoire. In fact, there was a time when Al had a working act, “but I never loved it. But I loved being behind the counter.” For Al, the counter is his stage, the booth or shop, his theater.
And Al has done far more than just sell magic – he’s accomplished what the greatest magic shops do, which is to serve as a cultural center for his art, and as a lasting influence. Eugene Burger speaks of the traditional magic store as a source of guidance, a place where “You could go in and get intelligent answers to questions.” Former Al’s Magic Shop demonstrator Mike Hummer remembers that “The D.C. magic scene revolved around the shop – and it was because of Al. Al was the Washington magic scene.”
Al is not so optimistic about the future of the magic shop, however. Although he has a wonderful web site, www.alsmagic.com, complete with video samples of his timeless and tireless demos, he admits that the Internet has both helped and hurt magic. On-line discounters and dealers without overhead continue to chip away at the neighborhood magic shop. As far as I am concerned, it must be said: with very few exceptions, every dollar spent on a magic web site that is not associated with a real “brick and mortar” shop is another nail in the coffin of the traditional magic store. You might think about that before you click again. Eugene Burger offers that, “Buying magic on the Internet to save a couple dollars is a way of losing thousands on wasted purchases. Paying a few extra dollars to see magic at local magic store is a way of saving thousands of dollars.”
But Al’s Magic Shop, for one, has left its mark, and for all magic has done for Al, he has given as good as he’s gotten, and probably then some. Al not only communicates his joy and passion for magic to his clientele, but ultimately he develops a customer’s respect for the art, not by lecturing but by his own innate attitude towards it. To this day, he still never exposes a trick until a customer buys it. If asked, he’ll say, “Do you think it’s fair to the guy who spends good money for that trick if I expose it to you for nothing?” To every new magician whom Al starts off with a good book or a video or a simple trick, he also explains that, “When you learn how something is done it doesn’t mean you’ve learned how to do it. You’ve only learned how it works.” He encourages his flock to come back with questions, and he’s always available with advice and assistance. “You help them out, and they’re appreciative and thankful.” Al recounts a customer who, the very day we had spoken, watched him do the Color Changing Knives. Al’s routine for this is one my personal favorites, a solid performance piece that not even an expert magician could readily duplicate. Al recounted how he had sold his customer the props, and then told him, “‘Now, I’m going to teach you the basic move,’ and I made him do it. He didn’t walk out without knowing how to do that. ‘How about all that other stuff you did with it?’ the customer asked. ‘Next time I’ll show you another move.’” Sure, that’s how you build customer loyalty and a solid business – but it’s also how you make magicians.
And he’s made many, by offering sound advice and supportive guidance. How many times have we been told, it’s not the trick, it’s the person behind it – it’s not what you do, it’s the way you do it. Al Goshman always admonished, “The magic is you!” And all of this couldn’t be more true for Al Cohen, both as a performer and a dealer. “Amateurs come in looking for the perfect trick. He could have 42 wallets, and still thinks the next wallet will solve his Card to Wallet routine. They never understand it’s them, not the wallet!”
And it’s Al, not the trick. Mike Hummer was 23 when he was hired at Al’s and began to learn to be a demonstrator. At first, Al didn’t think he’d last two weeks – but Mike persevered, and lasted 15 years. Al says that Mike was among “the best demonstrators who ever worked for me,” and also includes Doc
Dougherty, Mike Kranish and Willie Eckhardt in that esteemed company. Mike says that he was treated like one of the family, and there was never a more fair guy to work for than Al Cohen. What did Mike learn from Al? “I don’t think Al ever taught me a trick. But he taught me how to perform.” And what does he think is Al’s special secret? He says it’s partly intangible. “It didn’t matter what he did, people just enjoyed watching him. Al didn’t like every person he ever met, but every person thought Al liked him.”
That generosity of spirit extended to one and all – even the competition. Not long after Denny Haney opened Denny & Lee’s Magic Studio in nearby Baltimore, he got a phone call from a friend. “Al Cohen is on his way to see you.” The unexpected warning prompted Denny to post a sign in time for Al’s arrival: “No Dealers Allowed!” When Al arrived they enjoyed a good laugh over that, but then Al sat down and made the reason for his trip known. “Alright, here’s what the magic business is all about.” Says Denny, “And he just gave me all his years of experience, as much as he could, in about two hours. And he wished me the best of luck and that was it! He made a special trip,” says Denny, and you can hear the appreciation in his voice.
For all of Al’s upbeat nature, there had to be something about the business he disliked – didn’t there? I asked him what part of the business he’ll miss the least when he finally takes his leave of it. His answer is immediate and unequivocal: The guy who wants to be an instant magician. “No skill, under $5, do in 15 minutes, and have everybody rolling in the aisles.” What do you tell them, I ask. “I tell them to go buy a magazine down on the corner!”
Al can tell you countless variations on the theme, like about the guy who came in and wanted to buy a whole act to perform a week later. “What can I get for about $200?” “You can probably get a halfway decent magician!” was Al’s wry advice – but time and time again he’s seen that kind of advice ignored.
In the years I lived in the Washington D.C. area, from 1985 through 1991, I would periodically make it my business to go downtown to visit Al at the quietest times I could find – perhaps a mid-week afternoon, after the business lunch hour rush was past. Then I could enjoy Al’s company relatively undisturbed, except by the occasional treat of a demo. For the rest of the time, I’d listen to Al tell stories, perhaps as he paged through a dusty scrapbook he’d drag out for my benefit. Those were memorable and treasured times, among those experiences I most miss since returning to my native New York City.
Other times we’d sit in the back and I’d watch Al pore over dealer’s mailers and catalog sheets, looking over the newest releases, deciding what to bring into the store. “In all my years in the business I tried to be selective. I’ve tried to find things that I thought were of good value: a good effect, a good trick, a right price, whatever. I’m not always right, I make mistakes, but I’ve tried to do that.”
Once Al decided something was going in the catalog, says former demonstrator Mike Hummer, “then he’d come up with the routine that would sell it every time. He could take stuff I’d think was awful and he’d say ‘That is gonna sell.’ He had an eye for what magicians would buy.”
But it was never just the trick, it was what Al put into it that made it special. “Whenever I get something in, and if I like the effect and start playing with it, I keep honing it and getting it better and better and better, and I get it to the point where I know it’s perfect. And even then sometimes I’m not satisfied.” Are those the words of a retailer – or an artist?
In my book, Al is first and foremost a magician. Have you ever seen his infamous Pernell Zorch act? Magic spoof acts are legion, from Carl Ballantine to Kohl & Company, but coming from a magic dealer, Al’s version offers special insight. Years ago somebody told Al he ought to put together an act so he could trade off at conventions for dealer space, and so Al thought about some of the lousy acts he’d seen at conventions. “Some of them are so bad – just rotten acts! So I took everything I saw that the guys traditionally screw up, or repeat over and over again.” Thus was born Pernell Zorch, who made his debut at a small convention at Meredith College in North Carolina. The act went over so well, he took to England no less than three times; to Abbott’s more than once; to the West coast – he’s done it all over the world. Magicians universally recognize the bumbling loser whom Al portrays with scathing hilarity and perfect timing. Instead of penetrating the balloon, his giant needle bends harmlessly aside. The strings fall out of his Chinese Sticks, leaving them empty. He floats his Zombie gimmick but forgets the ball on the table. A hypnotized dove refuses to wake up. When his spring skunk jumps out of his hands and he bends to pick it up, his toupee falls off – which he then retrieves and brings to life a la Rocky Raccoon. This is an act that is simultaneously comical and insightful – and, in the guise of incompetence, reflects the precision and polish, wit and originality that Al Cohen has brought to all his material over the course of a lifetime in magic.
And now, after more than half a century, it’s time to step away and focus on other things. Al wants to be able to spend some more time at home with his beloved wife of 56 years, Alice, who’s as well known to and liked by so many conventioneers and magic friends as Al is himself. His longtime third generation partner, his son, Stan, is also moving on to new pursuits. Al has this to say about their long association at Al’s Magic. “The greatest help in the shop, without a doubt, is my son and partner, Stan. Stan remembers where everything is located. He knows every supplier and where we got what. He always comes up with ideas and routines for new tricks, which many times I get credit for, but are actually created by Stan. He has never looked for any glory in this business, but believe me, I never could have lasted as long as I have without my son’s help. It's been a great partnership.”
Al is surprised, almost annoyed, by all the attention he’s received since word went out that he was looking to sell the shop. Feature stories in the Washington Post and on National Public Radio seem to leave him wondering what all the fuss is about. This man is too genuine for false humility; to him, he’s just been lucky enough to have some fun. What was the best part of this job? “Meeting all the nice people, and having a common interest and having fun talking, kibitzing, fooling one another. No regrets, it’s been a fun way to spend your life. I’ve met some wonderful people, that makes it all worthwhile – all the good friends we’ve made.” As ever, he is gently philosophic about the changes ahead. “There comes a time. Nobody lasts forever.”
I hate to dispute the master, but perhaps just this once. Because if your life was ever touched by the magic of the man, Al Cohen, I daresay it will last you forever and a day.
