What is magic really about? Not rabbits pulled out of hats, not glittering cards, but something much deeper. The mark it leaves on a person's mind. Last Sunday, I was at the traditional spring meeting of the Finnish Magicians' Society. One of the highlights of the event is the entrance audition, where up-and-coming magicians – and sometimes long-time professionals too – get to show their skills and try for the society's prestigious membership. There were several applicants, but the last to take the stage was a real wild card: Pete Purho.
The name may not mean much outside magic circles, but in the eyes of many top professionals he is "Finland's best magician". I had never had the chance to see Pete perform live before. And what did Pete do? Something completely incomprehensible. I can't remember the last time I felt such a storm of emotions at any artistic experience. And it wasn't just about technical brilliance, although the trick itself was of breathtaking quality. Most important was the incredible, palpable atmosphere Pete created. When you get a room full of hardened professional performers first wiping away tears and then immediately bursting into laughter, the performance has succeeded a hundred and ten per cent. It was magic at its purest, most stripped-back and most moving.
The most important thing in magic, too, is creating atmosphere. However technically impossible and complex your routine, the performance fails if the audience is left cold. On the other hand, even the simplest sleight of hand can be larger than life if you draw the audience into the story. You know that worn-out Maya Angelou quote about how people ultimately remember only how you made them feel? I'll happily leave that line to Marjo Rantanen's slides, but it couldn't be more true.
At the heart of magic: story, atmosphere and emotion
It's really hard to put into words what Pete Purho did on stage. And I certainly don't want to spoil his act for those who still get to experience it. Let's just say he wove an incredibly genuine and personal story that went straight to the audience's sore spots and hearts. His understated, present performance held everyone's attention without a break. He stepped onto the stage solemnly, holding a small, old and precious-looking wooden box – and began to tell. He didn't conjure, he enchanted. He didn't perform, he lived. He didn't just entertain – he shook the soul.
Watching it, I inevitably thought back to my own performance at the same event in 2024. I was terribly scared when my turn came. My hands were shaking and my heart was pounding. But on stage, fear turned into courage and nervousness into determination. The way Robert Jägerhorn, Viljo Haapamäki, Markus Tervo and the other veterans received my act really kicked me onto this path. Their encouragement gave me the confidence to take my vision further. And now, later on, here I am: building a career centred on understanding the human mind and creating illusions that touch people deeply.
The future lies in emotion
Magic isn't just tricks. It's a tool for creating stories and atmosphere. It's the ability to leave a lasting impression on people. Therein lies the true power of mentalism: the ability to change a person's reality for a moment, one mind at a time. My magic is true crime mentalism, diving into the darkest rooms of the human mind. Someone else's magic is something brighter, but the core is always the same: touch people, stir emotions, command the atmosphere.
If you want to feel what it's like when the boundaries of reality blur and the mind is led astray, step into my world. Come and experience the Harhan Mestarit show. Expect psychological suspense, laughter and guaranteed chills. See you on the dark side.
