Nothing Is Impossible: The Real-Life Adventures of a Street Magician (29 page)

THE TAXI DRIVER
didn’t speak much English. ‘Corcovado,’ he muttered, a few minutes after pulling out of Rio de Janeiro-Galeão International Airport, nodding towards the imposing statue of Christ the Redeemer that silently watches over the city. ‘Samba,’ he continued as we passed a school of music housing students of one of Brazil’s most enduring musical creations. ‘Favela,’ came last, but certainly not least, as he gestured towards the hillside slums that contain around 20 per cent of Rio’s six-million-strong populace. That’s around 1.2 million people. Rio’s thousand-odd favelas have become as synonymous with the country as Pelé, palm trees, waxing and Barry Manilow’s ‘Copacabana’.

He may have been a man of few words, but my cabbie had a point: religion, music and poverty could, to the casual observer, pretty much sum up Rio de Janeiro. Yet to reduce the South American city to a mere three words does a huge disservice to this utterly magical place. The city’s extraordinary situation between sparkling sea and densely forested mountains, its vibrancy and its outstanding natural beauty, led UNESCO to declare Rio a World Heritage Site.

It’s a twelve-hour flight from the UK to Brazil and getting there is pretty exhausting. I left London at night-time and landed a day later as dawn broke over Rio. Viewing the city for the first time, soaked in an incredible red mist, my jet lag instantly disappeared.

Rio is such a visual experience – it’s a total assault on your senses. You have the beaches, the ocean, Sugar Loaf Mountain, the Tijuca Forest that surrounds the imposing statue of Christ the Redeemer – and the city itself, which is a sprawling mass of churches, skyscrapers, graffiti, winding streets, motorbikes, cars, rollerbladers and food stalls selling aromatic street food. It’s noisy, hot and beautiful. With its palm trees, hot, white sands and buff bodies squeezed into the smallest of swimsuits, the beaches are postcard perfect. And the women… Well, let’s say I’ve never seen so many gorgeous people in one city in my whole life.

It was the perfect place to film for my second series we wanted everything to be bigger and better than what we’d done so far. Rio gave me all the inspiration I needed to create some of the most ‘magical’ moments in my career.

I’d been looking forward to going to Rio so much, not only because I’d never been there before, but also because it was not long after Gramps had sadly passed away on 29 February 2012. I needed something to reignite me; something to distract me from my heartache. I fell out of love with magic for a while. When Gramps died, the magic seemed to die with him. I just couldn’t be bothered and I had no motivation to do anything. Things got so overwhelming that I wanted to make myself disappear – but this time forever. I hoped that by going to Rio, where no one knew me, no one had heard of me, and no one knew what I did, I would rediscover my love of magic.

I wasn’t disappointed. Rio was everything I had hoped it would be, and more.

You can watch
City of God
as many times as you like before you arrive in Rio, but as powerful a film as it may be, 38mm of celluloid doesn’t do justice to the contradictions of poverty, wealth, corruption and opportunity that exist within the mountain-framed metropolis. The city is rich in music, food, art and theatre. Sadly, until recently, the biggest talking point about Rio was its endemic violence. Poor policing, exacerbated by low wages, ingrained state corruption, entrenched racism and a proliferation of drugs and firearms made Rio one of the most violent cities in the world. There are, on average, 1.9 murders per 100,000 people in London each year, compared to 37 murders per 100,000 people in Rio. There are three times as many people killed, on average, by the police in Rio each year, than are killed by police annually in the whole of the United States.

Yet, with the World Cup arriving in 2014 and the Olympics in 2016, it’s a city that is being cleaned up. Brazil’s property prices are among the fastest rising in the world, and the country’s economic development is bucking European and American trends by booming, not recessing. It’s a nation on the up; a rising force. I couldn’t wait to explore it for myself. The city is reaching new heights and I wanted to do exactly the same!

TO GET ACCLIMATISED
, I walked around a lot during the first few days, soaking up the atmosphere of the city. My magic is always organic and I like to freestyle and adjust to my surroundings. I rarely plan what I’m going to do beforehand, especially with close-up magic.

Rio gave me all the inspiration I needed

Because most of the people there speak little or no English and my Portuguese is, well, non-existent, I really had to rely on magic to break the language barrier. As I’ve found throughout the world, I don’t need to speak the local dialect; magic always does the talking for me.

After spending a bit of time seeing what the city was about, one thing that became immediately apparent was that everywhere you go you see guys selling fresh coconuts. They chop off the top with a machete and stick a straw inside. So I devised a piece of magic based around them. I would ask one of the tourists or locals to name a drink and then ask them to choose a fresh coconut from the guy selling them. They’d order a Coke or an orange juice – someone even said coffee – and the guy would cut their coconut of choice open, then they would pour out the liquid inside…only it would turn out that it wasn’t coconut milk – it would be whatever drink they had requested. I do something similar in the UK with bottles of Coke and Fanta. In some ways, that piece of magic harks back to what Gramps showed me with the red and green matches.

Whether I switch drinks in Covent Garden or on Copacabana beach, using bottles or coconuts, it always baffles people. It’s all about using everyday things to create the unexpected. Making the familiar unfamiliar is the best way to surprise people. They go from feeling at ease to completely shocked. And somewhere in between that quick switch of emotions is where magic lies.

Night-time in Rio is when the city comes alive, so I figured a stroll along Copacabana’s iconic boardwalk would be a good start. Rio’s street culture is great – everywhere you look, something is going on. Some of the things I saw literally made me stop in my tracks. There were old men doing mind-blowing footwork with footballs and on the sand I saw groups of people practising capoeira – a Brazilian martial art that combines dance and music. Watching the incredibly controlled yet fluid inventiveness made me feel like a kid again. I was mesmerised and lost in the magic of the moment. With this image in mind, I decided to do my own version of capoeira. I found a bench beside the seafront and with just one arm for balance I did a half-levitation, inspired by the moves I had seen the capoeira dancers perform.

As dusk falls in Rio, local kids rush to the popcorn stalls, which are everywhere. They are like the Brazilian equivalent of our ice-cream vans, except they sell popcorn. I decided to set up my own business. But rather than using a popcorn machine, I just used my hands. Initially, I made the kernels pop inside a glass much to the delight of the crowd of kids who had gathered. Then, with the heat from my palms, I rubbed my hands together and piles of popcorn sprang out. The kids went nuts. Some of the best reactions I’ve ever had have been in Rio.

I was also in Rio for with the infamous Carnival. During those five days some two million people descend onto the streets for the world’s biggest street party. It’s incredible to see so many people coming together to celebrate life. The sheer spectacle of Carnival has the power to break down all cultural barriers – the loud music, extravagantly decorated floats, the animated dancing and outrageous costumes can be understood in any language.

As I wandered further into the city, Carnival was in full flow, so I decided to bring a little bit more magic to the festival. Deep in the thick of the dancers, floats and tourists, I spotted a guy selling maracas, a classic South American percussion instrument. I asked a woman to draw something on a coin – she chose a heart. Then, I took her to the maracas seller and asked her to pick one; she did and I shook it to demonstrate that there was only the standard rice inside. I continued to shake it and the more I shook the less noise it made, until there was only one noise left.
It sounded suspiciously like the rattling of a coin. I asked the seller to smash the instrument with his foot and all that was left inside was the coin. I picked it up and gave her back her heart.

ONCE WE’D DONE
the beaches and the Carnival, I wanted to go to where the action was. People say that the real heartbeat of Rio is found in the favelas, yet they’re a part of Rio that most visitors avoid.

Some of the favelas are flat and warren-like, a riddle of dusty corridors that wind over several square miles. Most of them, though, sprawl up Rio’s various mountains, boasting the best views in the city. As the sun sets on Ipanema beach, you can look up to the favelas and see the mountains light up. It’s really stunning. I’m not exaggerating when I say Rio is one of the most invigorating, exhilarating, interesting places I’ve ever visited.

I went to the outskirts of a couple of favelas – including Cidade de Deus, which is also known as the City of God – and immediately felt I wasn’t welcome. You could sense the danger around you and see the distrust on people’s faces. I might have been there to entertain with my magic, but the locals were unsure and didn’t want me or my camera crew there. It’s a shame. I’m positive that had I had the chance to do even one piece of magic then we might have had a different reception. But you have to realise when you’re not welcome and carefully back away. When you’re a stranger to somewhere, you have to respect the local people’s codes and learn to pick up on the nuances of body language and the atmosphere. Most importantly, you have to accept when you need to get the hell out!