A society of young magicians is aiming to popularize the performance art in Myanmar. Words by Lorcan Lovett. Photos by Leo Jackson.
A party atmosphere exudes from a bare office on the eight floor of a building in downtown Yangon. The 15 young men inside are Buddhists, Christians, Muslims—“even Chinese,” one says—but that’s not important.
What is key is wowing and being wowed. Ways to achieve this are set out on a table near the door: tubs of fanning power to reduce friction between cards, a fake thumb for vanishing red cloth, flash paper that burns instantly with no smoke or ash.
Myanmar’s new young magicians are gathering; some have already scored TV shows, others are still learning how to shuffle a deck of cards. But all are striving to shake off old stereotypes of magicians in the country and, well, to bedazzle anyone they meet with tricks salvaged from YouTube, books, TV and each other.
“Many magicians used tricks to con money from people,” explains Zwe Htet Aung, a natural showman who organized the almost secret meet-up. “There’s a gimmick where you can change money from a 1,000 to a 10,000 kyat note. They would go to these rural places and say ‘I’m going to multiple your money by 10. You just have to give me your money for one or two days.’ They used that kind of thing to manipulate and deceive people.”
But now “if you say magic, most people get excited,” adds the 25-year-old. He first embraced the word as a student in Singapore, practicing every day until, aged 19, he was invited to star in a TV show with the well-known Myanmar magician Sakkawma.
The two wrote a book on card tricks together, but then Zwe traveled to Tasmania to study maritime logistics, a choice that only reaffirmed his love of magic. He returned to star in a second TV show on Skynet called MYM (Myanmar Young Magicians) and his next one will be a solo show called Deceptions and Emotions, aired on MNTV in February.
Zwe will often take to the streets, showcasing his sleight-of-hand to strangers. His main goal is to tear youngsters from their phones and video games, and give them “a purpose to live,” that purpose being expressed in his shop Magic Market in downtown bazaar Urban 86.
“From video games you get high-blood pressure from getting angry and frustrated,” he says. “Magic is fun.”
Dangerous Magic
Smoking out on the balcony is Thurein Wintun, who won the Golden Buzzer Audition on 2016 Myanmar’s Got Talent for swallowing a piece of thread and pulling it back out from his eye.
He also swallows swords, eats plates, and plays Russian roulette with a stapler gun: “Not luck, it’s magic,” he says. Thurein is the wild card of the group.
“I do dangerous, interesting magic,” says the towering 21-year-old. “I like people concentrating on me, to watch people’s jaws drop when they watch.”
Thurein brings his brand of squeamish conjuring to children’s hospitals under his one-man enterprise the Kingsman Magic Entertainment. Back inside, the young magicians take turns to perform their tricks, a confidence-building exercise done before an eager audience.
Thurein puts out his cigarette on his tongue and then brazenly strides back into the office, to get some water.
The Magic Circle
Most of the young magicians favor honing subtle tricks of subterfuge—‘street magic’—and steer away from aspirations of the grand theatrics of somebody like David Copperfield.
They huddle together in a corner, jeering and cheering at the efforts of fellow enthusiasts, making for a fraternal atmosphere.
One of their number, Aung Khaing Min, 16, is sporting a turquoise shirt, top button done, and a slick comb over. He’s seven months into the art.
“Magic makes people happy,” he says, gleefully. Next to him is 20-year-old Wai Lin, a rangy electrical engineering student who shares the same sentiments. This is part of Zwe’s larger plan: bringing them all out of their homes and tea shops and into the magic circle, a growing community in Yangon.
A member enlists the help of another to teleport 1,000 and 500 kyat notes across the room. The crowd gasps with astonishment, and even the newbie stops coyly flicking a card at the back to appreciate the moment. Myanmar arguable needs more magic than ever, and, it seems, these are the guys to bring it.
