Magic begins where the ego ends - and space is created for genuine encounters
A quiet moment in the midst of the hustle and bustle
It is one of those small, quiet moments that you come across again and again in over 2000 children’s performances – and that never let go.
A child comes to the front of the stage. Perhaps a little shy. Maybe excited. Maybe very brave – but trembling inside.
And then something very typical often happens:
The applause starts automatically. Quickly. Loudly. Habitual.
But this is precisely the moment when I pause.
Before the child goes on stage, I always pick them up from their seat myself.
As we walk forward together, I ask quietly:
“Would you like a round of applause when you’re about to go on stage?”
Most children say yes. Some hesitate. Some say no.
And then I react accordingly:
If a child doesn’t want any applause, I interrupt the audience in a friendly manner before they really start clapping:
“No applause for once, please – that was requested.“
And I step aside. Quite naturally. And yet this is a moment full of meaning.
If a child wants applause, I let the audience pause for a moment. I lead the child to the center of the stage, position them with a smile – and consciously step to the side, to the edge of the stage.
Then I say:
“Wait a minute – he or she wants to really enjoy it now.”
And then the applause begins. Not for the trick. Not for me. But only for the child.
Because applause is often a reflex – but here it becomes a gesture.
A conscious decision. A gift.
Not because “that’s what you do”, but because a child has said: “Yes, I want that.”
And then, a few seconds of silence. The audience waits.
A quiet smile. A tense expectation.
And when the applause starts – it’s real.
Not just volume, but meaning.
Why I do it this way
It is a seemingly small gesture – but it has a deep background.
Many people think that children are loud, wild and boisterous.
What is often overlooked: Children are also highly sensitive.
Especially when it comes to noise. Their auditory canals are smaller, their perception is often unfiltered – and a roaring applause, which is inspiring for us, can simply be overwhelming for children. Or unpleasant. Or embarrassing.
Some children simply don’t want to be the center of attention.
They are modest. Or insecure. Or have their own form of strength – one that has nothing to do with being loud.
And that’s exactly why I ask if they want a round of applause. If the answer is “no”, I turn to the audience and say:
“Please no applause for once …”
(pedagogical pause – the audience giggles)
Then I place the child in the middle just like any other, step aside – and let the moment take effect.
Because this is also a stage. This is also an applause. Just a quiet one.
This little routine – with or without applause – is often repeated several times during the show.
And that is exactly what is crucial:
After the second or third child, a natural naturalness develops in the audience.
A collective understanding of respect, timing – and that every moment on stage is different.
This not only strengthens the flow of the show – but also creates a silent, unifying ritual.
The applause moment belongs to the child - not to me
This moment is not my performance.
It is the child’s performance. And it belongs only to him.
That’s why I don’t stand next to it.
Because: If I stand still, it’s a shared applause.
If I walk away – then the child gets it alone.
And that’s a difference you can feel.
Not just in the room, but in the child’s self-esteem.
What no one often notices:
I also use this moment for something completely different.
While the audience claps and all eyes are on the child, I have a little moment to myself. I can prepare myself inconspicuously, secure my trick technique, take a deep breath and prepare my next step.
But that is just a side effect.
The real magic lies in the fact that I leave space for the child.
And sometimes I also create space.
About this series
Magic for Children & Families is a new series of articles in the School of Modern Magic & Art.
This is not about props – it’s about attitude. About subtle moments, real play and the special art of working with children on stage.
The texts are the result of over 20 years of experience with more than 2000 performances – and the deep conviction that children’s magic deserves more: more seriousness, more respect, more depth.
For artists, educators – and anyone who does (or wants to do) magic with children.
An idea: The silent applause
When a child comes on stage and I ask:
“Would you like a round of applause?“
…there are usually three possible answers:
🟢 Yes, a loud round of applause.
🔴 No, no applause please.
🟣 Or – especially – a quiet one.
And for precisely this moment, I have introduced a form of “silent applause” over the years.
I then ask the audience:
“Do you know the applause for very special children?”
Then everyone waves their hands in the air.
Just like deaf people. Like in silent rooms.
An applause that doesn’t go through the ears – but straight to the heart.
The result is a beautiful, almost solemn picture.
Here, too, the process remains the same:
I place the child in the middle of the stage and step to the side – as always.
Because the setting remains the same. Only the type of expression changes.
And the child?
Smiles. Senses. Grows.
That too is magic.
No illusion. Not a trick.
But rather: Respect.
What happens in the child?
A child on stage is always vulnerable – even when it laughs. It enters a strange space, faces a crowd and opens itself up to the moment. This challenge, the unknown space, the curious looks – all of this can create a tremendous inner tension that the child is well aware of. It is a courageous step that demands a lot from him.
That is why it is so important to accompany this moment with respect, tenderness and awareness. If I don’t do that, the magic quickly turns into an exercise of power. It’s not the trick that counts, but how we share this moment together. And the opposite of magic is not simply disenchantment, but degradation – the feeling of not really being seen or respected.
For the child, the moment on stage can be an unforgettable experience – a moment of affirmation, growth, joy and pride. It’s not just about getting the applause. It’s about experiencing yourself in your own strength, feeling carried by the attention without it becoming too overwhelming. And that’s exactly what makes a moment like this truly magical.
Impulses for other artists
If you work with children – whether as a magician, clown, actor or musician – then ask yourself:
- When was the last time you really let a child take the stage
- How do you deal with children who aren ‘t the loudest?
- What does it mean for you to be present without being the center of attention?
- Where is there room for real encounters in your show?
Concrete variants for practical use
1. establish “respectful applause“
Before the show: “If you want applause, you get it – if you don’t, you still get a moment.”
2. “The double applause“
First loud – then quiet. Or vice versa. The audience experiences variety, the child gets two versions.
3. “The applause test“
Ask the child: “Was that loud enough?” – The audience can clap again. Playful approach, great effect.
4. “The empty stage“
Pause briefly after the applause – let the child stand alone in the middle (if it feels comfortable).
It visibly grows in these seconds.
Concluding thoughts
The stage is not a place for self-expression – it is a space for encounters. Those who work with children have a special responsibility: not just for entertainment, but for dignity, safety and genuine experience. The seemingly small moments – a questioning look, a reticent child, a silent applause – are often the most precious. They make us feel what it’s really about: not about perfect routines or big effects, but about sincere connection.
Children are not extras in a finished process. They are personalities who play along, empathize and help shape – if you let them. What seems like a pedagogical trifle is actually an artistic decision. One that shows attitude. Anyone who shares the stage with children as a magician (or as a stage person in general) must be prepared to give space. And sometimes also to step back.
Because it is precisely there – in this conscious letting go – that what we call “magic” often arises. Not in the trick itself, but in the moment of the encounter.
Further exercises
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