"America's Got Talent," Rogue, a lanky,
Asian male, politely asked former Spice
Girl Melanie Brown to shoot him in the
head with a staple gun.
She pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
He asked her to try another gun. She
knew she had filled one of the guns
with staples, and she could tell by its
weight that the next one she picked up
was loaded. Brown, growing
increasingly nervous, obeyed and
pulled the trigger again.
Rogue flinched. She gasped. He
laughed.
The crowd cheered. Miraculously,
Rogue survived his staple gun version
of Russian roulette, a deadly game of
chance with guns. The judges
unanimously agreed that Rogue's
illusion had enthralled them. And he
advanced to the next round.
The true identity of the charmer of the
evening was Roger Quan, an
unassuming 35-year-old from Queens.
But he prefers to go by Rogue. Roger
does not sound very magical.
Rise of a Magician
New York City has always attracted
those who do otherworldly tricks; the
famed Martinka brothers set up their
first shop in 1877, in what is known as
Chelsea today. The shop is said to be
the oldest magic shop in the United
States.
In recent years, it is said the Rogue
caused the increased interest in magic
in the city.
"He's a major influence," said Luis
Rivera, a magician. "He's the master of
all of us."
Fourteen years ago, Rogue opened a
magic shop called Rogue Magic & Fun
Shop in Elmhurst, Queens, where he
performed and taught.
"Without this place, a lot of [magicians]
wouldn't have a place to go to," Rivera
said. "A lot of guys dedicate the
beginning of their magic experience to
him."
Some of his students went on to
become teachers. Yet until recently,
Rogue only pushed his protégé
magicians to reach for the stars, but
never himself.
He is good at his craft, and is genuinely
kind and humorous; his ring tone is the
babble of squeaking minions. But he is
a quiet perfectionist with low self-
esteem.
For years, people have been telling him
to audition for shows like "America's
Got Talent," but he always rejected the
idea. Recently, "America's Got Talent"
even tweeted him, imploring him to try
out. Again, his first reaction was not to
take the offer.
"I'm not a competitive person," he said.
"I guess I just didn't think I was that
good."
He had to first overcome some self-
doubts with roots in his childhood.
Before Rogue
Rogue, son of Chinese immigrants, was
named after Yankees player Roger
Maris. He was the embodiment of the
American dream.
What does that mean anyway? Rogue
dreamed of being a magician. It was a
dream, and he was an American. His
parents were not enthused, but they
supported him anyway.
His mother, in some ways, was a
dreamer, too. She was a seamstress
who made most of his clothes growing
up. In her free time, she folded intricate
origami and sold them for a $1 each.
She donated the proceeds to charities.
Rogue's mother passed away recently
and never got to see him perform on
"America's Got Talent."
Rogue believes that the little things that
happen in life are a part of the tapestry
of fate.
As a child, Rogue had a gift for
spelling. He was supposed to attend a
spelling bee at age 12, but he was hit
with pneumonia and missed the
competition. "If I had won that spelling
bee, that may have led to scholarships,"
he said. "Maybe I wouldn't have gotten
into magic."
If he had had siblings to play with, he
might not have gotten into magic,
either. Magic was a solution for
loneliness. He was a scrawny boy who
was bullied at school. He started
learning magic tricks to make friends.
He never thought it could become a
career one day, or that it would lead to
some fame.
Magic Shop
For most of his life, he worked ordinary
jobs. He worked at a gas station; he
worked as a PR representative; he
taught ESL English; he did voice-overs
for an independent film company; he
drew cartoons for newspapers.
He also found time to do free shows in
the streets and in his basement in
Jackson Heights. "There were people
coming to my apartment from all walks
of life," he said. "It was a little odd
sometimes."
In 2000, he got around to setting up
his own magic shop, a mysterious little
store with velvet black and red
curtains. It's filled with escapology
tricks, vanishing microphones, and
wallets that catch fire.
There, he's always trying out new,
adventurous tricks.
"Wipe the lighter fluid off your hand
before your light the lighter," his
employee warned.
"No it's fine I won't get burned," Rogue
said without looking up.
"Seriously, just wipe it," the man said.
"I have been burned so many times,"
Rogue said. "This is nothing. I eat fire."
Fate
Paulina Gonzalez, his fiancée, has
played a large role in turning his
attitude around.
"I told him if he didn't audition ['for
America's Got Talent'], I would never
talk to him again," Gonzalez joked.
They met in the subway, when Rogue
was performing a trick that turned
dollar bills into hundreds.
They coincidentally met again at a
party, even though Rogue does not
ordinarily perform at house parties. He
attributes it to fate.
Recently, Rogue and Gonzalez opened
a magic bar called the Rogue Magic Bar
at Panda Asian Bistro, where diners
drink, eat, and watch a magic show.
The bar is in an Asian fusion restaurant
in Rego Park, Queens. They plan on
creating a franchise one day.
He believes that all the events in his life
led up to him becoming a magician.
"I love what I do, nothing can compare
to the feeling that you have when you
know your audience is entertained and
happy," he said. "I think that is the
purpose of all of this—to make people happy
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