For HR leaders and Veterans ERG coordinators: here's why a keynote speaker who has actually been on the bases — and performs close-up magic for your veteran employees personally — changes everything about your military appreciation event.
For HR leaders and Veterans ERG coordinators: here's why a keynote speaker who has actually been on the bases — and performs close-up magic for your veteran employees personally — changes everything about your military appreciation event.
The Revascent all-staff event looked like every corporate cocktail hour I have ever walked into. People standing in line at the bar. Small plates being circulated from appetizer stations set up around the room. Clusters of colleagues finding each other, catching up, doing the pleasant social work that precedes a formal evening.
Nobody had arrived expecting anything extraordinary. Nobody had been told to expect it. The evening was pleasant. That was its ambition. To be pleasant and well-organized and a good opportunity for people who worked together to be in the same room at the same time.
I walked in with a deck of cards.
What followed was not what anyone planned. A small group became a following. A following became a crowd. A crowd became a party that nobody scheduled. And at the end of the evening, a group of people who had come for a corporate cocktail hour left with signed cards they had asked to keep — because they wanted physical evidence that what had happened to them was real.
This is not a story about a magic trick. It is a story about what world-class close-up magic actually produces in a room of people who were not expecting it — and what that means for anyone planning an event where the difference between pleasant and extraordinary matters.
From Douro Valley port cellars to private collector dinners, here's why world-class sleight of hand pairs perfectly with fine wine — and what happens when both are in the same room.
When I was a teenager just starting in magic, I was convinced I could not do sleight of hand. Not that I had tried and failed. That I was not the kind of person who could do it. So I bought gimmicks instead — specialty decks and prepared props from the magic shop that simulated the effect of technique without requiring any.
Then I performed for a family in my neighborhood. After the show the father came up to me and asked, quietly, whether I had been using one of the specialty decks he had heard about.
He knew. He could see the gap between what I was doing and what the trick claimed to be.
That moment sent me back to the magic shop with a different question. Not what prop would make the magic look more convincing. But what the craft actually was — and whether I was willing to do what it required.
Thirty years later I am still working on the answer. What follows is what I have learned about the gap between a performer who knows the trick and a performer whose technique is genuinely invisible — why that gap is enormous, why it matters in a room of sophisticated people, and why it cannot be faked regardless of how convincingly someone tries.
From holiday parties to client appreciation dinners, here's what happens when world-class sleight of hand meets a room full of analytical minds that think they can't be fooled. Written by Jason Michaels, IBM President Elect and sleight-of-hand artist with 25 years performing for financial professionals.
Before any performance begins, the deck is already in the room. Sitting on the table, or in a jacket pocket, or in a hand extended toward the first spectator. Nobody looks at it twice. Nobody needs to. Everyone knows what it is.
That is the point. That is everything.
A deck of playing cards is the most universally recognized object in human culture that nobody ever thinks about — not because it is uninteresting, but because familiarity has become invisibility. The deck sits on the table and the eye moves past it to the wine, the centerpiece, the face of the person across from you.
And then something happens to it that should not be possible.
What follows is not about magic tricks. It is about what a five-dollar object becomes when it carries six hundred years of human history, the stories of every person in the room, and twenty-five years of the most refined manual skill in the world. And why that combination produces something that no production budget, no expensive prop, and no digital experience can replicate.
From private lounge evenings to Big Smoke gatherings, here's why world-class sleight of hand is the natural companion to premium cigar culture — and what both have always had in common.
When Iron Insurance Partners wanted their team to feel the value of work that often goes unseen, they brought in keynote speaker and magician Jason Michaels to deliver his keynote “Your Work Matters.” This case study breaks down how sleight of hand and story combined to shift a room full of insurance professionals from burned out to reminded — plus what attendees had to say afterward.
From paddock clubs to private hospitality suites, here's why world-class sleight of hand is the entertainment motorsport sponsors keep coming back to — and what it looks like in the room.
From private Hublot debuts to collector dinners and fine watch brand events, here's why world-class sleight of hand belongs in the same room as exceptional timepieces — and what happens when both are present.