Paul Rosini
This article unravels the mystery of who this uniquely endowed, but who this doomed performer was.

Contents Birth of A Magician Meeting of Magical Minds The Magician Chooses His Stage Name Death of A Conjurer
Who was the conjurer Paul Rosini?
He was born in Trieste, a city whose national identification has changed like the tides of war that flowed around it, creating human confusions. His family migrated to the USA. Here he eventually stood on two pillars, one as a secondary partner in mind reading and Magic acts, and the other as a lone performer of advanced Magic with playing cards, cups and balls, coins, and the thumb tie. Which would, or should, he choose as a lifetime career? In his thirties before he sorted it out for himself, he gave up being second banana to psychics and magicians and achieved his singular form of stardom. One of the best American magicians of the century, I’m not aware that Paul Rosini ever appeared outside the United States. Would traveling abroad jeopardize his ability to return here because of his Trieste beginnings or some manner of initially entering North America? We may never know. He adopted his professional name from a former magician-employer Carl Rosini. His psychic act’s title Two Minds with but a Single Thought from another employer Professor (Julius Zanzig), some of his most excellent tricks and cute expressions from other prominent professionals (the renowned sleight of hand magician Charles Bertram, and the world-famous magician Max Malini), to create a brand new persona in the arte magique. He did not write for public or professional publications, beyond explaining and sharing some of his creations with others. Hence the cloudiness of his past life, his points of view, or a look into the inner man. The magician’s brief 18 plus years of genuine success arrived when he became one of the most held- over magicians during his period of personal triumphs in some of the nation’s most popular night clubs and hotels. He performed in Detroit’s newly-opened Club Royale, he was the magician in St Louis at the the Chase Hotel in St Louis MO, the Bismarck Hotel in Chicago IL, Philadelphia’s Arcadia International restaurant, and other spots in the 1930s. He died only four weeks after closing in Milwaukee’s Schroeder Hotel, August 1948. Rosini was sui generis, a one-of-a-kind magician. The magic was in him, his personality, his combinations of amusing mannerisms generating an audience intimacy feeling with, and for him, and a masterly presentation of each magic trick. In Philadelphia at Canter’s magic shop, he resembled a young Alexander Herman: brisk, well-dressed, and impressive. His decline, years afterward, was slow, but then he began consuming brandy heavily: in dress, personal hygiene, and motivation, a deterioration was noticeable to those who knew him well. As you read this long-needed article, you’ll be transported back to those days full of anticipation despite the Great Depression during which we all were working, not aware of the tragedy unfolding among some of our close colleagues. The author follows well Paul’s engagements—their dates and places—providing a feeling of proximity with those times. This article contributes honestly and forthrightly to our understanding of what it was like for one towering participant — Paul Rosini — to carve out his illustrious career and have it end abruptly partly through one unfortunate addiction. Publicity photos of Paul reveal a forceful and charismatic personality. Only a few show him posing with exotic props or other magic paraphernalia. He was extraordinarily well-groomed and movie-star handsome, and the best and most appealing photos focused simply on the drama and excitement of the man himself. Putting together the pieces of a complex personality like Rosini was not an easy task: with the help of others, I have made every attempt to provide historically accurate information regarding Paul and his career. Paul Rosini’s accomplishment was to take the classical repertoire of parlor Magic into the Cabaret. In the process, he helped bring Magic from the 19th and into the 20th century. He monitored modernized Magic by performing with flair sophistication. If any magician wants to learn magic tricks and perform illusions, he should hope to present illusions with as much artistry as Paul Rosini did. Paul Rosini was a magic superstar whose light burns brightly but all briefly.
Birth of a magician
Meeting of magical minds
Upon arriving in America, the Vucics settled in Chicago, Illinois. While there was much for Paul to see and learn in his new homeland, the image of Malini and the mysteries he witnessed in Trieste were still vivid in his memory. It was hard for Paul to focus on anything else besides conjuring, and he yearned to learn more about the ancient art. Now one day, Paul came across the magic shop of August Roterberg (1867-1928) in the lobby of the old Palmer House Hotel in Downtown Chicago. Paul met the magician in Chicago’s Palmer House Hotel. This hotel was the third of the four Palmer houses that were built in Chicago over the years. Completed in 1873, this Palmer House, along with the Grand Pacific and the Sherman House, was one of the fanciest hotels in post-fire Chicago. Its amenities included oversized rooms, luxurious decor, and sumptuous meals served in grand style. Everything about the hotel was opulent. Even the floor of the hotel’s barbershop was tiled with silver dollars! Paul spent many hours in Roterberg’s shop and squandered what little money he had on new magic tricks and magic books. He enjoyed reading about the grand magicians of the past, and he wished to learn as much as he could about them. Studying the lives of his predecessors was a practice he would continue throughout his life, as he felt that to understand a magician’s success, he had to know about the man and his ways. In later years, Rosini admitted he learned more about accomplishing a magic effect from reading the life stories of magicians than he ever did from books and magazines explaining how to do tricks. Two of the wizards Paul enthusiastically read about where Charles Bertram (James Bassett, 1853-1907), the illustrious British drawing-room entertainer, and Max Malini, (Max Katz, 1873-1942), the incomparable, world-renowned sleight-of-hand artist. Rosini considered these two men ideal magicians, and later on, he would emulate the style of his beloved magical idols and perform any other tricks. Paul possibly became acquainted with Bertram through Bertram’s memoirs, Isn’t It Wonderful? (1896). Within the book’s pages, Bertram gave insight to several of his own effects. One of the tricks he described was the blindfold card stab. Later on in his career, Paul would add this same effect to his repertoire. Other Bertrand magic tricks such as La Cage Volante (The Vanishing Bird and Cage) and Multum in Parvo became features of Rosini’s act in later years. In addition to being an incredible performer, Bertram was instrumental in creating an interest in Magic among High Society. He showed that magic could entertain, and even Fascinate, audiences other than children. Bertram was a distinguished gentleman whose words and wizardry amused and amazed the most refined and well-to-do socialites. Hosts and hostesses employing Bertram never fear that his drawing-room entertainment would disgrace them or embarrass their guests. Bertram was at ease at any high society function, and he easily could have been mistaken for a guest. He was a dapper, refined gentleman with a sharp wit. His similarities to any guests disappeared the minute he began weaving his web of magic. From that point on, the magician commanded everyone’s attention. In addition to Bertram, the polish-born magician Max Malini had a influence upon Paul. Malini’s similarity to Bertram ends with the fact they were both outstanding close-up entertainers who performed Miracles at private, high society functions for the rich and powerful. Unlike Bertram, Malini was a short, rough-and-tumble fellow who could be crude and offensive. Still, Malini provided his audiences with magical experiences they would remember for the rest of their lives. Malini’s performances were impromptu. From biting off lapel buttons and restoring them to their original resting place, or producing a block of ice from under a borrowed derby hat, Malini was a master of misdirection and timing. Despite his small stature, Malini became a giant in the world of entertainment, and he earned himself a reputation as a master of intimate magic. Even though Paul never met either of his magical Idols, the legacies of Bertram and Malini had a profound effect on him that lasted throughout his life and shaped the way he approached and performed his magic. There are interesting parallels between Bertram, Malini, and Rosini. All three men took tricks that, in other performers, hands weresimple amusements and transformed them into highly entertaining and baffling effects. They were all proficient with playing cards and preferred doing tricks with familiar, ordinary objects. Each member of this magical trinity possessed great technical skill, and they coupled it with their Mastery of timing and misdirection. This combination created magical effects that had a profound and lasting impact on those who witnessed their legerdemain. All these conjurers used a catchphrase that came to be associated with them. Bertram’s quizzical “Isn’t it wonderful!” became his trademark, and he would exclaim this after one of his startling tricks. Likewise, Paul had his expression, “A tiny waltz, please,” and this line would become his stamp. This expression was not Paul’s brainchild. It was a parlance used by Malini. Malini would ask band leaders in broken English to play “a teeny valtz” to accompany his magic. By the time Paul was 13, he had realized he wanted nothing more than to become a magician. Unbeknownst to him, he would soon be learning another type of Magic—The Magic of the Mind. In the summer of 1916, Christ Vucic’s work beckoned him to another port; but this time, he and his family packed their bags and left the Midwest for New York City. Soon after his arrival in this bustling Metropolis, Paul met Julius Zancig (Julius Jorgensen 1857-1929), the great telepathist and mind reader. Two Minds with But A Single Thought was the ballyhoo of Julius and his wife, Agnes, for over two decades. Their astounding feats of thought-transference and second sight baffled audiences around the world. The couple’s showmanship and bravado transformed the straightforward mental tricks they performed into impossible acts that puzzled many educated audiences and even scholars. The Zancigs were always “on stage” and never missed an opportunity to dazzle those around them with their extraordinary powers. These off-the-cuff displays added another dimension to the legend of the master mentalists. William J. Hilliar recalled a time when he visited the duo in the offices of the Chicago publisher Frederick J. Drake. Zancig excused himself from the conversation at hand by saying he had to visit a department store several blocks away. After a few minutes, his wife Agnes remarked that Julius couldn’t find what he wanted and was going to cross the street to go to another store. Suddenly, Mrs. Zancig swooned and exclaimed that Julius had slipped and fallen right in front of a cab. She soon recovered from her alarm and pronounced her husband was fine and only bruised a little. Several minutes later, Julius came limping into the office with his clothes mussed and mud-stained. He explained why he was in such a state and. It corresponded with Agnes’s vision. Natives of Copenhagen, Denmark, Julius and Agnes Zancig came to the United States around 1899. That same year, they found themselves in Chicago, Illinois, and it was there they made their theatrical debut. They performed at the San Souci park with a variety of other psychic entertainers. After one season at San Souci, the Zancigs started to perform at private engagements around the city. Julius soon realized these intimate performances could be lucrative. In 1902, the great New York impresario Oscar Hammerstein saw the Zancigs perform at a private party. He was impressed with their skills and engaged them to appear in his show at the Paradise Roof Gardens in New York City. The Zancigs Act was successful, and their run at the Roof Gardens lasted eleven weeks. As a result of their newly acquired fame, the Zancigs were engaged by members of high society to perform at private functions and parties. Their popularity snowballed, and they moved to New York City around 1903. Within a few years, the Zancigs were traveling all over the world with their telepathy act and making large sums of money. By 1907, the duo was booked solid and was making $1,500 a week. From South Africa to the Orient to Europe, the Zancigs dazzled audiences with their mental feats. Despite their mental prowess, the couple did not see a vision of the tragedy that lay ahead. Agnes became ill in the Autumn of 1915, and on April 8th, 1916, Julius’ lifelong love and partner died. Julius expressed his love for Agnes in Adventures in Many Lands, a small booklet he authored shortly after Agnes’ death. Julius wrote, “After 30 years of happy married life, my wife died. I thought the end of everything had come to me. It seemed there was nothing in life worth living for, without her…” Julius had always hoped to find another female partner like Agnes, teach her the code, and return to Vaudeville. He felt a woman needed to work with him as his partner as opposed to a man. Zancig felt a masculine partner was not as convincing as a female in a mind-reading act. A little over a year after Agnes’ death though, Zancig began performing with his son Henry–Paul Vucic. Paul joined forces with Zancig, and together they performed the telepathy act. Exactly where and when Paul met Julius Zancig cannot be positively determined. Most likely, Paul met Zancig through the extraordinary magician Theo Bamberg, a.k.a. Okito (1875-1963). Bamberg had opened the Bamberg Magic & Novelty Company on 1193 Broadway in New York City in 1909, after traveling with his beautiful oriental-themed magic act for several years. About a year after he opened his shop on Broadway, he abandoned the venture and returned to the stage with the premiere stage illusionist of the time, Howard Thurston. Theo presented a novelty shadowgraph act in Thurston’s Wonder Show of the Universe and acted as the magic consultant and master mechanic for the company. He toured with Thurston off and on for four years. After working with Thurston, Bamberg worked in Vaudeville, and eventually opened a private magical trade. From his workshop on 245 East 25th Street in Flatbush, Theo crafted handsome magician apparatus for, as he stated, “the most select amateur magicians of America.” One can bet that Paul found his way to Bamberg’s shop soon after arriving in New York. Bamberg was accepting pupils and giving magic lessons, and perhaps Paul was a student of Bamberg for a time. Bamberg wrote he was the first to teach young Vucic the Cups and Balls trick. In the short time Paul worked for Zancig, he learned a great deal. Not only did he master Julius’ techniques, bu. He learned about showmanship. Though he had real mental powers was Zancig’s strong suit and the foundation of the duo’s act, which comprised feats of divination, math problems, and a book test. Zancig made these exercises appear as if they were genuine miracles of the mind. His outstanding presentation convinced his audiences they were witnessing real telepathy. In 1917, Paul ceased Zancig’s assistant. Several magic historians have written that Paul was drafted into military service, and this is why he had to end his employment with Zancig; but this is not true. The United States entered World War I April 17th, 1917. Soon afterward, the draft was established. All men, including immigrants, between the ages of 21 and 30, had to register for the draft. There were three draft registrations: June 5th, 1917; June 5th, 1918; and September 12th, 1918. In 1917 and 1918, 24 million men (98% of the men in America), born between 1873 and 1900, completed draft registration cards. Paul did not even have to sign up for the draft at the last draft; for, he was only 16 years old. A search through the World War Service Records of the New York State Archives shows no one by the name of Paul Vucic, Vucci, or Rosini ever served in any branch of the military between 1917 and 1919 (the year the war ended). Paul’s death certificate pronounced he was not a veteran. What is known is Theo Bamberg’s son, David (1904 to 1974), took Paul’s position in Zancig’s act. In exchange for permitting David to join his act, Zancig offered the Bamberg family the upper two stories of The Brownstone building he rented for free. Theo found it hard to refuse Zancig’s enticing proposition and moved his family from Brooklyn into the building Zancig rented on 109 West 87th Street. Later on, Theo joined Zancig and David as part of the act and performed magic, and the triplet billed themselves as “The Zancigs—A Marvelously Perplexing, Mystifying Trio.” The fact David Bamberg filled Paul Vucic’s position in Zancig’s act is indisputable. Once again, chroniclers of magic have accurately recorded who worked for Zancig first–Paul or David. In 1937, Theo Annemann reported in his paper, The Jinx (February, Issue No. 29), he had had a conversation with David Bamberg, and that David stated he worked for Zancig first and Paul followed him. Perhaps Annemann misquoted him, or David couldn’t recall the facts. Still, David contradicts that account in the article, “For The Angels,” which he wrote for the 50th Anniversary issue of The Sphinx (March 1951). David Bamberg wrote that Paul preceded him as Zancig’s assistant. He gives us further insight into what it was like working for Zancig. Bamberg wrote, “We now dissolve to Coney Island and the bright lights of Manhattan. Thurston had a mechanical nightmare called the Kiss Waltz in Luna Park, I had to go down for an inspection. It was there I met Julius Zancig, who was doing his famous mind-reading act with Paul Rosini.
“They did about 500 shows a day, and when they finished each night, they looked as if they had been pulled through a taffy machine… “Paul had ideas, and he quit the act there, I fell heir to the code. I became the child wonder for a time, and had a spell of the high life in New York society and the high spots.”
In 1917, Zancig remarried. He began to groom his new wife, Ada (whom Julius called Agnes), to perform the same act he had done with his first wife. Zanzig was still performing in Luna Park, Coney Island, and it was there he publicly introduced his second wife. After Ada was proficient with the act, Zancig didn’t require David’s and Theo’s services. That was fine with the Bambergs as they were beginning to grow tired of Zancig. The police had visited Zancig Studio on several occasions because of complaints regarding his fortune-telling practices. David’s mother, Lily, had had enough, and she wanted a better way of life for her son. The Bambergs sent David to study overseas, and later, he became one of magic’s most illustrious performers, Fu Manchu. In the summer of 1919, Theo Bamberg left for South America with the illusionist Carl Rosini. Theo confirms this in a letter he wrote from Vienna in 1925. “In 1919, I was once again inspired to do a Chinese act. I left New York in June 1919, sailing for South America, where my success was instantaneous.” Without the Bambergs, the Zancigs–A Marvelously Perplexing, Mystifying Trio was no more. Julius continued performing with his new wife, Ada, soon the duo was achieving success again. After leaving Zancig’s employment, Paul Vucic became an assistant to Carl Rosini. Paul had always wanted to be a magician than a mind-reader, apprenticing to a real magician was an appropriate next step. While working for Julius Zancig, Paul Vucic had a real taste of what it was like to perform for the public. He realized the art of deception could be profitable. Paul liked the trappings of show business and was to make his mark as a magician.
Choosing his stage name
Death of a conjurer
Throughout 1947, Paul played nightspots in the midwest, including the Bismarck Hotel in Chicago and the Schroeder Hotel in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Paul was still working regularly by 1948. In July of that year, the Sphinx magazine honored Rosini once again by featuring him on its cover. Rosini would never see himself Grace another cover of a magic magazine. In August of 1948, Paul finished a four-week run at the Schroeder Hotel. He played another two weeks in upstate Wisconsin and returned home to Chicago. A few weeks after his return to Chicago, on September 19th at 4:30 a.m., Paul Rosini’s illustrious career came to an end. With a bottle of bear in right hand and a deck of cards in his left hand, Paul Rosini died at the new Lawrence hotel, at 1020 West Lawrence Avenue in Chicago, where he and Margaret were living at the time. The cause of his death listed on Rosini’s death certificate is chronic myocarditis arteriosclerosis. Rosini’s drinking habit contributed to cirrhosis of the liver and, his early demise. He was only 45 years old. Three days after Rosini died, he was interred at Elmwood Cemetery in River Grove, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago. Paul’s good friend, Dorny, broke a ceremonial Wand Over the casket as many of these friends in magic watched. For reasons unknown, Paul’s wife, Margaret chose this cemetery over one in Gary, Indiana, where Paul’s family owned a plot. Rosini’s father and brothers were not happy with the arrangement. The magic community mourns the loss of one of its greatest exponents. Paul’s good friend, Fred Brau, printed a heartfelt eulogy in the October 1948 issue of Hugard’s Magic Monthly by writing,
“Everyone in magic Knows by now of Paul Rosini’s passing. At his Peak, he was a great performer who held audiences in the palm of his hand. Who can forget him, with the untying knot, saying, ‘Rosini, you are wonderful!’; forget his sidewise trot as he moved about, or the joyful little leap in the air when he found the right card? Paul loved his magic; years ago, he said, ‘When I die, Freddy, I’ll have a pack of cards in my hand.’ for Paul—honest, no fake! Tiny Waltz!”
After Paul’s death, Margaret continued to live in Chicago and later remarried. Rosini’s first wife, Anna, was still living in suburban Philadelphia at the Lincoln Hotel with her sons, Paul, Jr., and Michael (Mickey) when Paul died. Bill Frazee wrote in the November 1948 issue of the Sphinx he would not be surprised if Paul’s sons would carry on with the mental act, a la the Zancigs, as their parents did. He elaborated, “Mrs. Rosini still knows the code, and no doubt will teach it to them. Both boys are good looking and the ideal type for that act.” Though both of Rosini’s sons enjoyed magic, neither of them was of a professional caliber. Paul, Jr. Tried performing magic on a regular basis for a time but was unsuccessful. According to family members, he married, had children, and became a professional waiter. His present whereabouts are unknown. Michael did not take up magic as a profession, but as a hobby. He became a Salesman and eventually relocated to the Seattle, Washington area. There, until his death in 1983, he raised a family and continued to practice magic for his enjoyment. Though Paul Rosini has been dead for over five decades, magicians will never forget his contribution to the art of magic. Paul took tired and forgotten tricks and reintroduced them to audiences with incomparable style and unique presentation. Paul’s charming personality and impeccable technique transformed every trick he touched into pure electricity. John Braun summed up Rosini’s ability as a conjurer well when he wrote, “Whatever he did was always magic, beautiful to see!” Despite the brevity of his career, the impact Rosini had on his audiences, and the world of magic is enduring. Through his individuality, artistic sensibilities, contagious sense of humor, and brazen Showmanship, Rosini was a leader in the field of conjuring for over two decades. Many magicians aren’t aware they owe a high debt to Paul Rosini. He was living proof, the real power of magic lies within the performer and not the sleights or tricks they do. Rosini believed in his magic and shared his sense of wonder with everyone who witnessed his performances. If every magician could leave an impression upon their audiences as Rosini did, the art of magic would only be better for it. Professor, play a little waltz one more time. Play it as a tribute to the dashing magician Paul Rosini. He had a twinkle in his eye, a spring in his step, and believed in the power of magic.