Meeting Juan Tamariz: A Tribute to One of Magic’s Greatest Legends

When I heard that Juan Tamariz had died, I immediately thought back to a night in Paris.

Years ago, I jumped on the Eurostar to attend a lecture by Tamariz at the Double Fond, an intimate magic theatre in Paris. The lecture was due to run from 8pm until 5am, and Tamariz was going to deliver the entire thing in French. My GCSE French was about to be tested rather more severely than I had anticipated.

But there was no question that I was going.

Juan Tamariz was one of magic’s true legends – a magician whose influence extended far beyond the tricks he performed. He was a performer, teacher, inventor and theorist who changed the way generations of magicians think about close-up magic.

He won first prize in Card Magic at the FISM World Championships in Paris in 1973 and went on to receive numerous international honours, including Magician of the Year from the Academy of Magical Arts. He was also awarded Spain’s Gold Medal for Merit in Fine Arts.

The Magic of Juan Tamariz

Tamariz was a whirlwind when he performed. With his trademark thick glasses, purple top hat, rapid-fire speech and flamboyant gestures, he seemed to have more energy than the rest of the room combined. His manner could appear chaotic, even slightly clumsy.

But that apparent chaos was part of the genius. Like the character Columbo, Tamariz could appear to be wandering around without a plan while actually being several steps ahead. Every gesture, pause, word and movement had a purpose.

His attention to detail was extraordinary. Most magicians obsess over their sleight of hand or the construction of a trick. Tamariz went much further. He thought about where he stood, how he moved, the tone of his voice, his body language, where he looked and how he interacted with the audience.

Everything was designed to create an experience. And that was what made him such an extraordinary artist.

He wasn’t interested in simply proving that he could fool you. He wanted to create that wonderful feeling of child-like impossibility – the moment when your rational brain says something cannot have happened, but you have just witnessed it with your own eyes.

An All-Night Lecture in Paris

The audience at the Double Fond consisted of around 60 experienced magicians, sitting only a few feet from Tamariz.

And he still managed to completely astonish us! At one point, with a single playing card held in his hand, he asked someone to name any card. He turned it over. It was the named card!

On another occasion, two members of the audience shuffled their own packs of cards and selected cards, only to discover that they had somehow chosen the same card.

These weren’t simply demonstrations of technical skill. They were examples of Tamariz’s extraordinary understanding of how to construct an experience for an audience.

Magic as Cinema and Theatre

One of the ideas I remember most clearly from that night was Tamariz’s description of magic as an art that combines the best qualities of cinema and theatre.

Cinema can take us anywhere. It can make the impossible appear real, but there is a screen between the audience and the action.

Theatre gives us immediacy and human connection, but it remains subject to the physical limitations of the real world.

Magic combines the two.

It has the intimacy of theatre – sometimes the magic happens inches from your face or even in your own hands – while offering the limitless possibilities of cinema. Objects can appear and disappear. Thoughts can apparently be read. The impossible can happen in front of you.

That combination of intimacy and impossibility is what makes magic such a powerful art form. In Tamariz’s hands, it was extraordinary.

What I Learned from Juan Tamariz

Looking back, what stays with me isn’t a particular trick. It’s the idea that great magic is about much more than technique.

Tamariz understood that every aspect of a performance contributes to the experience: the words, the timing, the character, the movement, the relationship with the audience and even the moments when nothing appears to be happening.

That lesson has stayed with me throughout my own career.

When I perform close-up magic at a corporate event, I’m not simply trying to fool someone with a clever trick. I’m trying to create a moment that people experience together – something surprising, personal and memorable.

That philosophy owes something to magicians like Tamariz, who understood that the real objective isn’t to demonstrate how clever the magician is. It is to make the audience feel something.

Thank You, Juan

Juan Tamariz inspired generations of magicians around the world, myself included.

He was a genuine artist, but perhaps more importantly, he was a reminder of why magic matters in the first place.

The night in Paris ended at 5am. I remember being exhausted, having been stretched to the limits of my French, and completely exhilarated by what I’d witnessed.

I was very lucky to have been in that room.

Thank you, Juan.