In my in box

Seattle Magic: In Memoriam
By Carl Bystrom

“Magic Shop” reads the neon sign hanging in the large window of Tom Frank’s Seattle Magic in the Pioneer Square district of downtown Seattle. It is an attractive store front, nestled comfortably between a coffee shop and a book store on the main drag of this historical tourist area. But the neon is deceiving. Upon entering the shop you are immediately struck by its cleanliness and sharp professionalism. With its shiny hardwood floors and bold colors, it strikes you as more of an upscale boutique than a magic shop. There are glass topped display cases exhibiting a remarkable collection of cups and balls, rare books, manacles and other memorabilia; there is certainly no fake dog poop, no whoopee cushions, and no itching powder. In fact, remarkably few props, tricks or books appear to be for sale at all. It reminds you of a high end jewelry shop: sparse yet elegant.

A casually dressed man of average height sporting a well-trimmed, graying beard welcomes you as you enter. He greets you with a winning smile and quickly yet unobtrusively begins to pitch you with a Stripper deck, which he will happily sell you for the low price of $35.00 But don’t be fooled; let it leak that you are a professional, semi-pro, or at least a long time magic enthusiast and the man puts away the pitch deck and shows you some real work. After wowing you with a classic and immaculately rendered version of Ambitious Card or Fingertip Coins Across, he invites you, pointing toward a swinging door at the back of the shop, to the Back Room. A large, opaque ship’s portal stares out of the face of the door, and as you approach you wonder if someone is lurking on the other side, waiting for a password. But as you push through you are not accosted by a broad shouldered bouncer, instead you find yourself transported.

Stepping into the Back Room reveals the traditional “magic shop” that you had imagined when you saw the neon out front. Dim but not dark, with a couple of old glass display cases brimming with all manner of cards, coins, purses, dice and other props. Shelves of books and magazines line the walls, close-up tables, larger props and illusions nestle in the corners. The atmosphere is classic, almost nostalgic—and quite exhilarating. The “Back Room” evokes the aura of a David Mamet film; an initiation into the secret high-stakes poker game in the smoke-filled recesses of a dance club. You see a cluster of men of various ages, cards in hands, huddled about a round table set towards the back. As the scene progresses introductions ensue and soon you are swept up in the raucous round-robin of close-up finger flicking, magic gossip, and conjuring philosophy that had paused for your entrance.

If it is a Friday or Saturday night, the Back Room finger flickers slither out to the store front and take advantage of the Pioneer Square bar scene. At midnight, give or take a wee hour or two, the sidewalk outside the shop will fill with bar hoppers and tipsy college kids who succumb quickly to the wonders of close-up magic. Veteran performers try out new effects, neophytes get their first taste of audience participation, magicians team up to invoke wonders not possible in their solo careers, and delight abounds.


This is the hub of the Seattle magic renaissance and Tom Frank, the smiling trick deck pitch-man, can be held largely responsible. The Seattle Magic Back Room represents a rare venue, an independent community and gathering place for magicians of all skill levels and aspirations. It requires no membership fees, tolerates no elitist attitudes; it simply demands a love of magic. For those unable to attend physically, Tom has initiated a Back Room mailing list where experiences are shared, ideas exchanged and issues debated in a dimly lit virtual space. Tom Frank invests as much effort in building a community as he does in building a business, and he has been wildly successful at the former; the struggle to keep a brick and mortar retail store thriving in the internet age is a different challenge.


The neon beacon that promised wonder and mystery to the public, and perhaps represented a sort of legitimacy and permanence to the initiated, was switched off on June 20, 2004. After 19 months of business, Seattle Magic closed its doors. The challenges of running a “real” magic store in the twenty-first century have proven too difficult for many, including Tom Frank. But Tom’s commitment to magic and his seemingly unending optimism and zest for life continue. Over a year after the close of Seattle Magic, the Back Room still thrives in cyberspace, and weekly “sessions” continue to manifest at various locales in the Seattle area representing a legacy that, although neither wholly inspired by nor dependent upon the physical presence of his store, proves the endurance of the community that coalesced around Tom’s shop.

Carl Bystrom

I want to thank Carl (a excellent magician and a great performer) for allowing me to reprint this here in my blog.

Thanks for the memories.