Acts of Violet(36)
It’s been two years since Violet Volk’s star-making appearance on Later Tonight with Jackson Cleo. Considering the sold-out live performances, the hit television specials, which garnered millions of viewers, and the innumerable tabloid articles that followed, you might think talking to the media would’ve become second nature to the young magician. And yet, Volk has been surprisingly reticent with the press. While countless newspapers and magazines have devoted pages to her meteoric rise to fame, closely tracking her accomplishments and antics, this is the first official interview she has granted since her confident late-night debut.
Volk’s elusiveness while remaining in the spotlight has sparked speculation. Is it all part of a strategically crafted celebrity persona? Does she want her actions to speak louder than her words? Is she, in reality, a deeply shy and socially anxious person?
As I wait for Violet’s arrival, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll demonstrate the same volatility she did at the photo shoot or how else her dramatic flair might manifest itself. After all, it’s this lack of predictability that gets her invited to the star-studded events at which she’s become a ubiquitous presence. There was the celebrity wedding where she made the couple’s wedding bands disappear and reappear woven into the bride’s updo. There was the awards show where she presented the honors for best special effects and cried buckets of what appeared to be blood. And, of course, there were her memorable red carpet stunts, like the one where she wore a dress made entirely of playing cards and changed their suit from spades into hearts, or when she secretly handcuffed two rivaling action stars, forcing them to make their entrance conjoined at the wrist (by fuzzy pink cuffs, no less), or when she transformed the mink stole of a Hollywood Golden Age actress into an inflatable snake.
Of course, not all of her stunts have been warmly received. The Broadway premiere where she unexpectedly made it rain over the first five rows of the audience did not go over well with the soaked attendees. Her appearance in a Riley Price music video left the set in flames and the pop princess with her eyebrows singed off after a practical joke gone wrong. And the crew of TV’s favorite legal drama, Overruled, has expressed consternation at Volk’s presence in background shots of several episodes—her sparkly crimson mouth conspicuous and distracting—while scratching their heads as to how she made it onto the soundstage without being spotted.
As you might expect, the young woman knows how to make an entrance. One second, I’m sitting alone on a leather love seat, asking a cocktail waitress for a glass of water, and the next, Violet is sitting beside me. It was instant, impossible. I had my head turned for maybe two seconds. Anyone coming in through the front door would’ve crossed my line of vision, and the sofa was flush with the wall. The end tables were glass, and there were no hiding spots or other entrances in sight. (I did a meticulous inspection of the area after she left, and I still have no idea where she could’ve come from.)
It’s so unexpected, the way Violet appears out of nowhere, that I let out a yelp and nearly knock over my Frozen Embryo, but not before some of it splashes onto her black patent leather pants. Do I know how to make a good first impression or what?
Thankfully, Violet laughs it off, taking full blame for startling me. Her choreographer and rumored boyfriend, Benjamin Martinez, hurries over with napkins. A handsome, diminutive man with artfully disheveled black hair, he dabs at her pants until she murmurs something in his ear, at which point he smiles, nods, and takes a seat across from us.
Once we’re settled in, I take a good look at Violet. Petite and wiry, she looks like she could’ve come from the set of another music video, her leather pants paired with black platform boots and a slinky silver top. “It looks like metal, right? But it’s a fabric invented by Versace like over ten years ago,” she says when I compliment her on it. “It’s called Oroton. So cool, right?” Her naturally gray-blue eyes are amped up to bright turquoise with the aid of colored contacts, and her raven hair is piled on top of her head, messy-yet-meticulous, secured in place with rhinestone butterfly clips. And, of course, her lips glitter with all the intensity of a crimson disco ball.
“Wanna see something?” she asks, waving over the bartender and server lurking a few feet away to come closer.
We all exchange excited smiles and nod.
Violet plucks a butterfly clip from a section of hair above her ear and holds it out for us to examine. It’s about the size of a nickel and its wings are decorated with iridescent stones. She turns the clip this way and that, and before any of us can react, pops it into her mouth, her eyebrows shooting up like she was taken aback by her own actions. A carousel of emotions plays out on her face over the next few moments. Perplexity leads to apprehension, then curiosity and an escalating sense of wonder. Finally, she opens her mouth, sticks out her tongue, and reveals the living butterfly perched on its tip. Violet holds her finger up to it, and the creature flutters its wings tentatively before exiting her mouth for the makeshift perch. An assistant appears at her side (where did he come from?) with a mesh container the size of a lunch pail, which he unzips and coaxes the delicate insect into.
The bar staff and I break into nervous laughter and applause. Violet bows her head in appreciation and gives her assistant a short nod to sit down.
When seeing magic performed so expertly, especially close-up, a mental tug-of-war ensues. The left brain wrestles with logistics while the right brain is caught up in the awe and artistry of the moment. The result is disarming, perplexing, delightful yet oddly disturbing. I have to remind myself that I’m here to do a job and mustn’t let myself be charmed and distracted before I uncover a genuine layer of Violet Volk.