INSPIRATION FOR ILLUSIONS

When it comes to the genesis of Franz Harary ’ s illusions , the process often starts with a simple , practical need : “ For example , I may need to design an appearance ”. But from that basic premise , his mind launches into territories where engineering , aesthetics , and personal passions intertwine , resulting in creations that are as emotionally resonant as they are visually spectacular .

Franz ’ s fascination with the Apollo program and the early days of space exploration played a pivotal role in one of his most ambitious illusions . “ I ’ m a space geek ,” he says , his enthusiasm palpable . But it ’ s not just any space era that captivates him — it ’ s the retro , vintage aesthetics of the 1960s and 1970s . Growing up during a time when humanity put people on the moon , he absorbed not just the imagery but the spirit of that era : “ It was only because of teamwork and the belief that anything is possible if nobody tells you , you can ’ t . I live with that . That ’ s the mantra to my entire career .” When given a budget of $ 34 million to build the House of Magic in Macau , Franz earmarked a significant portion — nearly $ 200,000 — for a single illusion . “ I knew I wanted it to look like vintage space ,” he recalls . To achieve this , he sourced authentic components from a now-defunct North Hollywood supplier that sold surplus equipment from the actual NASA missions . “ I have stuff in that piece from the actual Gemini program . It ’ s so freaking cool ,” he beams , noting that some of those relics are museum pieces today . The design process evolved organically . Initially envisioning a sphere of video screens that would open like a futuristic flower , Franz soon realized the complexity and weight of such a setup would be prohibitive . “ An iPad at the end of an arm is heavier than you ’ d think . So , I had to simplify ,” he explains . The screens were eventually scrapped in favor of sleek , mechanical arms that opened and closed with hypnotic precision .