THEATER

continued from p. 29 space to explore, experiment, and ultimately emerge more self-assured and embodied people than when we started.

Getting comfortable with being uncomfortable

Level 1 student Carol Krochmal, 65, summarizes her career path as “jack of all trades, queen of nothing,” and is currently a fitness coordinator at a local retirement community. A pre-COVID visit to the Lounge with her son brought the college to her attention, and this year she went for it. And as someone who gives frequent seminars and teaches exercise classes, she didn’t expect to feel so intimidated. Wearing a “Believe in Magic” shirt from her son each week, she gamely wrestled with each trick. Being left-handed was a struggle, but Thompson was always nearby with tips and a reserve of patience. Krochmal wanted to quit most weeks, but she remembered she’s never given up just because she’s not naturally gifted at something or doesn’t look like those around her. (She’s got multiple marathons and two powerlifting records under her belt.)

“You get more into your comfort zone, stop making as many new friends, stop trying new things, worried you might get hurt and fall,” she says. “It was so great to be terrified in class and feel like you really sucked at something but know that that’s OK. You enjoy the people who are good so much more.”

Krochmal felt reinvigorated by the group’s genuine kindness and is buzzing with possibility. What’s next? Improv.

Perform for your inner child

An isolating experience as a visual artist in San Francisco led another classmate, Gayle Walsworth, 33, into doing kids’ princess parties, where she first saw magic through their eyes. Her community of circus people proved “you can be creative and you can be a grownup,” something Walsworth held close as she built her character, Miss Make-Believe. “Magic is such an opportunity to be a unique person.”

Creating Miss Make-Believe ( an amalgam of Mary Poppins and Pippi Longstocking) and performing magic have helped Walsworth dial back the princess parties, a win given how hot it is wearing an Elsa wig in the Chicago summer. She joined Level 1 to broaden her skills as a family magician. It was harder magic than she’s used to and a real shift to be speaking as Gayle, not her character, but worth it for the high standards of her audience.

“Kids are so honest, they’re so funny, they’re geniuses,” Walsworth says. “Getting an eight-year-old who is rolling their eyes at me to smile . . . to me, that’s a feat.”

Fresh off teaching at Clown Camp in Wisconsin, she sees magic as a perspective shift on life and how to connect with others. And she can always tell when a quality, adult act cut their teeth performing for some demanding junior critics.

Act as if (or, nobody’s paying attention anyway)

My partner in Magic College was, fittingly, my college roommate Julie Kaviar, 35. We dove in on the heels of her first run for elected political o ce (she ran for police district council in February). I’ve always admired her conviction and passion, and she’s a friend who generously gives bravery boosts while joining you on unexpected adventures.

“Flying the plane” in magic felt more nerve-racking than in dance, but learning the elegant simplicity behind the illusions was a reminder that people don’t see what you think they see. “They’re not in your head, a remind- er that you don’t have to be as self-conscious in life because no one is looking at you that closely. You can fake it, start over, and finagle a trick until you’re able to find that ‘aha’ moment,” Kaviar says.

As a lover of magic, mermaids, glitter, and Hermione Granger, Kaviar knew she’d enjoy the class but didn’t expect the emphasis on individuality in performance. For her, that spurred a rubber-band trick as a metaphor for political flip-flopping, which has been a wow-factor hit at networking events and may find its way into future stump speeches.

“We’ve all got some je ne sais quoi, and it was wonderful to see everyone be surprised by their own stories,” she says.

Your uniqueness isn’t terminal

It should come as a surprise to no one that at our class showcase I performed a mentalism trick about my dog, Swift, focused on the outrageous amount of custom pet art my husband and I have accumulated. I followed Lampert’s advice to “do it until you hate it,” practicing at home until even Swift got bored. But the result was the euphoric, proud performance moment we dream of, in front of a friends-and-family audience generous with their laughs and applause.

I lead a team in my corporate day job, and I’ve found myself citing lessons from magic class often, whether it’s the importance of practice or the idea of the “magic moment” versus the “magic method,” i.e., not letting on how the sausage is made in any type of performance or presentation. I know there’s a long-held business narrative of taking improv to improve presentation skills or ease social anxiety, but I’d argue there’s a larger treasure trove to mine with magic and all its physical and mental nuances.

Going to Magic College has been the exercise I didn’t know I needed in striving, failing, and ultimately embracing and respecting my individuality. Look for me in Level 2 later this year, and trying to impress my niece and nephews with my sleight of hand. v @MJOberlander

MUSIC AND LYRICS BY PETE

TOWNSHEND

BOOK BY PETE TOWNSHEND AND DES MCANUFF

DIRECTED BY DES MCANUFF

The groundbreaking pop-culture musical sensation is reimagined in a new production.

Myth and spectacle combine in a fresh reinvention of The Who’s exhilarating 1969 rock concept album, Tommy—including the unforgettable anthems “I’m Free,” “See Me, Feel Me,” “Sensation” and “Pinball Wizard.” After witnessing his father shoot his rival, the young Tommy Walker is lost in the universe, endlessly and obsessively staring into the mirror. An innate knack for pinball catapults him from reticent adolescent to celebrity savior. Tony Award-winning composer Pete Townshend and Tony Awardwinning original director Des McAnuff find powerful resonance reexamining this iconic story for today.