Coral Gables Historical Archive
The Times
Saturday, August 21, 1976, page 2 (of 27)
The page
The text of this pageRead by computer from the scan, so some words may be wrong. The page picture is the original.
the sun shines on ... Wily Wiley Maher At a mere 16, he's already a master of illusion
By ERICA MEYER Staff Writer The young magician picks someone from his audience, then asks the volunteer to write his name on a piece of paper. Then, the magician burns the paper. Dramatically, he rolls up his sleeves and rubs the ashes on his arm. The spectator's name appears. Like magic. That is Wiley Maher's favorite trick and it's always the last one he does in a magic show, because it's a little messy. Wiley, 16, of SW 62nd Terrace, is the son of Terry and Shirley Maher. He is also known as Magilla the Great, a magician, and he performs for meetings or parties, for adults or children, for charity or a small fee — but mostly for fun. "When I was six-years-old, my dad got me a magic box from Sears for Christmas," Wiley remembers. "I started doing little shows in the back-yard, charging the kids 25 cents each. "Then I got some more tricks. My grandparents would send them to me. Pretty soon, I started inventing tricks of my own." Wiley started advertising as Magilla the Great two years ago. His mother suggested the name, based on the cartoon character Magilla the Gorilla, who once stated, 'If this is show business, I'll take bananas.'" Wiley will take show business. Three tall candles stand in a pronged candelabra. The magician lights them, then blows out the flames. He slips a slik sheath over each candle. Then he lights the wicks again. When he blows out the flames again, one by one, the sheaths collapse — empty. The candles have disappeared. Like magic. "Most of the time, real young kids aren't as responsive as the older ones or the adults," Wiley explains. "But the ash trick catches their attention and so does the trick with the candles. "That's my hardest trick. You have three chances to mess it up — but if you do it right, all that's left is the silk." Wiley purchases tricks at magic shops and then works on them to make them both more dramatic and more difficult. He finds that improvising tests his skills and saves him money. A first class table-top trick can cost $30 — and Wiley's fee for a show is just between $20 and $25. His largest audience to date has been a charity performance, though, for a group of Boy Scouts at Snapper Creek Elementary School. The show went off without a hitch. "I don't mess up much in front of people," Wiley said. "But when you blow one, you can ad lib and the audience never knows. "You just go on." The magician's table holds a small circus wagon-type cage. It is brightly painted outside and black inside. The magician puts a ballon in the cage and blows it up, tying the end. He covers the cage with a piece of silk cloth. The magician steps back and whisks the cloth off the cage. The audience looks at the balloon. It pops. And a rabbit is standing inside the cage. Like magic. "I use the rabbit trick to open my shows. It's really an eye opener," Wiley says. "You have to start out with a super trick to get everyone's attention." The teenager isn't thinking of magic as a business; it's a hobby and it would be a hard way to make a living. "If you are really good, you can keep it up professionally," Wiley explains, "but it takes money to get started. I've found that the best time to buy tricks is when a store is closing up and wants to get rid of them. "It's cheaper to make your own tricks. And you can make a whole production out of a $2 trick . . . you can take a small illusion and make it really nice." The magician stands in front of a pedestal he designed. He holds up five large cards. Each is marked differently — with a star, a circle, a set of lines, a square and a plus sign. He hands a sealed envelope to a member of the audience. It holds a duplicate of one of the cards. He shuffles the cards on the podium. He cuts the deck several times. He asks an audience member to tell him when to stop cutting the deck. When stopped, he always asks, "Are you sure? Do you want me to do it again?" But it doesn't make any difference. No matter where the magician is told to stop, the top card will match the card in the sealed envelope. Like magic. Wiley doesn't mean to be disillusioning, but he admits, "There's no magic. It's all tricks and illusions. A trick is done out front where everyone can see just what you are doing. An illusion leads you to believe something that isn't really happening." You can reach Magilla the Great at 271-0381. But don't expect him to explain his tricks and illusions. "People want to know, but they really don't want to know," he explains. "Once you know how an illusion works, it's lost. The fun is gone."
Poor playground
Children living in the neighborhood of Pizarro and Medina in Coral Gables were seen rummaging through a trash pile earlier this week, carting off such objects as discarded prescription drugs, broken mirrors, used clothing and assorted books and magazines. "We're just getting the good stuff," young Theresa Mattern, one of the rummagers, said. Fortunately, what with the "good stuff" being less than safe, in addition to being an unsightly mess, the trash pile had disappeared by Friday, Aug. 20. Photo by ELIZABETH OWEN