Magician/comic Hannibal says that it's only magic if it's personal

Chris Hannibal was 26 when he abandoned the daily misery of his career as an accountant in Charlotte, where he was born and reared, to pursue a career as a magician.

His specialty -- sleight of hand, predominantly card tricks.

"I quickly discovered how to make a steady paycheck disappear, which, you might be interested to know, is much easier than you might think. It's no illusion, that's for sure," said Hannibal, who performs as Hannibal the Magician.

"There were times when I was literally performing on the street to make enough money to eat."

He paused (timing is everything) then shifted his husky bulk into view from behind the table where he was sitting. Cocking an eyebrow, a la the late John Belushi, he added, his face otherwise expressionless, "Business got better."

Hannibal -- Magic Boy to his fans and friends around the country -- is something of a trailblazing magician in that he avoids working clubs and concentrates instead on working trade shows, restaurants and motivational conventions. "My magic is a very personable and personal experience, so I prefer working in environments where I can work in very close quarters" he said, an hour before he performed his "walk-around magic" at a wine dinner at River Birch Lodge in Winston-Salem.

"Restaurants seemed natural, it caught on, and it has blossomed from there. It helps keeping things positive. I'm the entertainment. The magic is the star."

In 2000, Hannibal entered close-quarters slight-of-hand competitions held by the Society of American Magicians and the International Brotherhood of Magicians. He won the Society of American Magicians' contest, took second in the juried part of the International contest and won the People's Choice award.

"I take magic very, very seriously." He looked down at his bright red-and-white shoes.

Wait for it.

"Well, I had to take something seriously. You ever try and take accounting seriously?"

Hannibal is part magician, part comic. He has an enviable confidence in his ability to make people sitting feet, even inches away, staring up his sleeves and into his pockets, suspend disbelief.

Playing cards signed by people at the table end up in oranges. He locks together wedding rings borrowed from audience members. Spoons and wine glasses bend inches from your face. Cards end up in bodices of women 10 feet away. Cards end up everywhere.

Each trick is better than the last, and the entire program is delivered with a positive grace that makes the audience feel comfortable.

"I want to provoke real astonishment -- that feeling, to me, is the essence of magic," he said. "A trick is good when it produces that elevator-dropping feeling in your stomach. And I believe that true magic is done best when surrounded by people.

"The grand illusions by the TV magicians -- I respect their work, and certainly their income, but I'm a magic bigot. To me, it's not really magic if it's on TV. It's only magic when it's performed in front of a living, breathing-down-your-neck audience."

Sheri Julian, the general manager of Max's Alley, a restaurant and dinner theater in Concord, was not overly thrilled when someone first told her about Hannibal. "I was intrigued at the concept of a magician working in a restaurant, but I wasn't entirely convinced," she said. "I was like: ‘Great, he pulls a rabbit out of a hat. What's in it for us?'

"Then it was explained to me that he personalizes his magic. He goes table to table, doing slight-of-hand, up close. And then, when I saw him, it was so much more than that. I was like everybody else -- I was amazed. He does ridiculous things that leave you dumbfounded -- and laughing. He is completely exposed, with nothing to distract the viewer, and he does one amazing bit after another."

Magic runs in Hannibal's blood. In the 1920s and '30s, his grandfather, John Vernon Hodges, a magician, worked with The Hodges Brothers Circus (no relation). The circus went from small town to small town by train, setting up tents in vacant lots. His grandfather worked as an advance man who went into town early to promote the circus by juggling and doing magic tricks, and as a roughneck, one of the men who set up and took down the tents.

Hannibal learned his first tricks as a boy from his grandfather; then, at his father's urging, he put aside the romantic notion of working as a magician to go to college (where he participated in performance art and creative writing). He received a degree in business.

He gave it a try, but it didn't have that special, well, you know.

"So I quit, with the blessings of my wife, Dawn, who travels with me and works as my assistant," he said. "I started by relearning my grandfather's tricks. Then I started teaching myself the old classics before coming to the realization that you can't do cover songs forever. That's when I started figuring out my own routines -- and that's when people began taking notice."

He laughed. "It's the difference between Neil Young and Milli Vanilli."

If you go

Hannibal the Magician will perform at 6 p.m. Wednesday at a four-course wine dinner at River Birch Lodge, 3324 Robinhood Road. Cost for the dinner is $59 a person, plus tax and tip.

To make reservations, visit thelodge@riverbirchlodge.com or call 768-1111.