We were in concert party together. Sixteen years of age and bursting with footlights fever. I did magic, he did vent. He looked the same as he does today. Balding, thick lens glasses, with a Jewish persona (here he interrupts me as he always did and says it’s Semitic, not Jewish) an endless stream of chat and a skin as thick as a well-filled Gucci wallet (not pigskin).

Born in the East End of London, his mother was a singer and theatrical costumier and his father a furrier. His father spoke with an East European accent but insisted he was French rather than acknowledge that his homeland was Poland. He felt that a French ancestry carried more class. Many times his father related how he sat in a Paris restaurant and saw “dis liddle cripple fidgeting and doodling on de tablecloth”. Bobby always remonstrated with his father for never retrieving a Toulouse Lautrec original!

Born with bad eyesight, at four years of age his mother promised to take him to the “joke” shop if he accepted the painful eye treatment with acetic acid prescribed by the school doctors. Never one to miss an opportunity he finished up in Davenports where a man in a Fedora hat changed a penny into a shilling and George Davenport made a penknife change colour. The seed was sown even at that early age.

His was a typical, continuing, youthful interest in magic and in his teens he had the semblance of a magic act with ventriloquism thrown in. That’s when I met him and together we joined the Institute of Magicians in Bolt Court, London under the beady, watchful eye of President Madame Zomah. By day he was a clerk in a shipping office and by night a magician and a member of a repertory company – The Dickensian Tabard Players – headed by a famed actor Bransby Williams. For a pittance they presented plays in old people’s homes, institutions, schools, anywhere there was an audience who could not afford the price of a West End theatre ticket.

Whilst still passionate about magic, Bobby, a born extrovert, became, hooked on theatre and stage performances and his unique Jewsih visage saw him cast in many character roles including Fagin in “Oliver Twist” (Unlike Alec Guinness he needed little make up!) Magic and acting were mutual bedfellows and his employers were very understanding when it came to time off to play a theatre or magic booking. The fact that his managing director’s wife was the sister of magician Eddie Dexter probably had something to do with it.

Always good at selling himself, in 1956 he went to the U.S. where he was booked to present an act in a convention gala show. His lifetime friend Val Andrews wrote and produced an original magic act for him built around a nouveau riche golfer that had some genuinely funny and original highspots. One of his youthful characteristics was his conceit, which at that time prevented him from adequately rehearsing and working in the act before leaving these shores despite strong protestations from Val Andrews.The act died a death thus creating a tombstone in the U.S. around the name Bernard. Today he commendably and gracefully acknowledges that it was sheer arrogance and egotism that led him to take this fateful course.

Another acting highlight that did win praise was his character impersonation of historic magician Isaac Fawkes at The Magic Circle Diamond Jubilee celebrations. By now his voice and stage projection became noticeably stronger and more professional and he decided to go into the acting business full time. His employer (still under the influence of Eddie Dexter’s sister) allowed him to continue working in the shipping office as temporary clerk with approved absences to take acting parts when they occurred

But with such distinctive facial appearance and mannerisms he was never going to get the lead in Hamlet. But over the years he has performed in theatre, television, radio and films in many notable classic character roles. He has also worked in opera with the English National Opera Company and at Covent Garden, not as a singer but as supporting actor in many classic productions. For one opera he recreated Horace Goldin’s “Sawing Through” .But his main claim to fame in the magic world is his infallible, encyclopaedic knowledge of magic and magicians. He has met most of the greats in the past fifty years – you name them, he’s met them. Jack Chanin, Al Flosso, Al Baker, Dai Vernon, Billy O’Connor, John Ramsay, Albert Goshman, Herb Zarrow,Slydini, Jimmy Grippo, Jay Marshall, Jasper Maskelyne, The Great Masoni. Cecil Lyle, Robert Harbin, Dante, Kalanag, Edward Victor, Al Koran, Cy Endfield – the international list is endless. Each account of his discussions with them contain a certain amount of theatrical embroidery but the basic facts are infuriatingly correct.

He also has knowledge and has been a friend of many performers on the fringe of magic. The ones you don’t see at magic clubs like Charlie Edwards a London street performer who did the stacked deck better than Si Stebbins according to Dai Vernon. Bobby has a repertoire of set pieces which always impress the uninitiated and  newcomers to magic. He does an excellent coin star where five coins are balanced on each fingertip, dropped into the opposite hand, vanished only to appear back on each fingertip. He also handles Spellbound very well as he does with most coin moves. Nowadays he doesn’t perform magic but has tutored many younger performers who’ve gone on to win many competitions under his magic and stage guidance.

Now in his retirement he will still take on lucrative TV commercials or stage roles if offered. A great collector of close-up magic and ephemera as well as knowledge, his bachelor flat in North London where he has lived for over 50 years is a veritable museum of magic as performed for over half a century. It is like the scene from Citizen Kane where a lifetime’s acquisitions are stacked ceiling high. Collectors from America and Europe often seek him out and persuade him to part with an unobtainable treasure but he drives a hard bargain with his well researched knowledge.

Nowadays I find him more mellow, more tolerant and kindly to younger magicians whom he helps with advice and knowledge. He still does not tolerate fools (He extinguishes them) and is scornful of magicians who lack a basic knowledge of the history of the art. A heart attack and surgery remind him of the approaching scenario of the rest of his life but his mind is still clear, still sharp. A regular visitor to The Magic Circle every Monday where he seeks the company of magicians and once a week, before his recent death, he visited his friend Val Andrews  with whom he shared a half century of friendship, show business and magic.

In a rare, quiet moment recently Bobby said to me “ I don’t kid myself about acting – it’s nothing more than being paid for showing off!” As I’ve always suspected, underneath all the huff and puff, schmaltz and brouhaha, there is a genuine, nice human being.

I was reminded of this when speaking recently with Roy Walton, he told me of one Saturday morning when we were all assembled in Davenports when someone told of a new, unknown (to us)  magician appearing at the London Palladium. A certain Jay Marshall.

Moments later Jay Marshall walked in and introduced himself to George Davenport. The conversation turned to us and we expressed our intention to visit and see him at this famous London theatre. We had never seen this visitor from the U.S. but a billing at the London Palladium certainly indicated an act worth seeing.

Someone in our group said to Jay “We sadly haven’t seen your act but what do you do?” He smiled ruefully and said  “Well I tie a knot in a handkerchief and it unties itself. Then I link a number of steel rings together and I finish by putting on a glove and talking to it!” On the face of it it didn’t sound too exciting but we thanked him and looked forward to the show.

Imagine our faces when we witnessed in number three spot on the bill, one of America’s finest, funniest entertainers with magic, closing with his unique and quite brilliant “Lefty” vent routine that became world-famous.

Similarly, in my business years away from magic I never got to see Al Flosso although I did manage to get hold of some tapes of his act at a later date. I spoke to Pat Page who knew him well and said “Did he ever get any of the top bookings in his hometown New York” Pat said “He played them all - the Waldorf Astoria, The Plaza, the St. Regis, he did all the best corporate dates and got top money”

I said “He must have been good – what did he do?”

Pat replied “He did the miser’s dream, cards across, 20th century silks, paper tear to hat etc. It wasn’t the tricks they booked him for – they booked Al Flosso!”

Surely these two examples of  top,  successful magicians prove the validity of the claim – It’s not what you do………..!

They were Bobby Bernard, Ted Danson, Roy Walton, Jack Avis, Alex Elmsley and myself.

The proprietor George Davenport was a kindly man who tolerated our using his premises as a clubroom, knowing that many of us had few pennies to spend which we did from time to time on the latest trick or book. But he was always most generous in advising us of items that were not suitable for our emerging skills. He encouraged us in our regular visits knowing that we would one day emerge from our chrysalis and become regular magicians and repay his kindness with future patronage.

His kindness went beyond the doors of that Oxford Street magic shop. At the IBM convention banquets he always used to send over a bottle of wine to Jack Avis and myself and at Christmas gave us magically meaningful presents like a large bath-towel covered in playing cards. George was one of magic’s real gentlemen and we’ll never forget him.

At lunchtime we would repair to a nearby Greek cafe sited ironically in Vernon Place. Here we would spend hours over a plate of spaghetti Bolognese and a cup of coffee interspersed with card moves, the latest from the U.S. and discussion on a recent performance of a name magician. In the mid-afternoon we were often joined by Al Koran, film director and magician Cy Endfield and a largely unknown but excellent card worker Hugh Scott. His visits were infrequent being fitted in between his duties as a royal bodyguard Scotland Yard detective.

Later onto Soho where we would often have a brief visit to Harry Stanley’s studio followed by tea and strawberry shortcake in an Austrian cafe welcomed by the amply bodied Haus Frau Madame Maurier. Then the evening was usually filled by an underground trip to one of the circuit of variety theatres around central London to see a magician appearing on the bill. I remember them all. Benson Du Lay, Douglas Francis, Francis Watts, Shek Ben Ali, Kardomah, Lionel King, Howard de Courcy, Robert Harbin, Donald B. Stuart, Pat Hatton & Peggy, Deveen and his New York Blondes, Cingalee, Reg Salmon, the list is endless. None of them top of the bill but always good, entertaining acts that worked week after week all over Britain. These were halcyon days indeed.

Is it any wonder that my magic is so influenced by my years of seeing stage magicians who only got regular bookings because they were entertaining? Sorry for the drift into nostalgia but I am delighted to know that there are still many magicians today who also have a regular get together with colleagues where I believe some of the best magic is originated. The tradition continues.