Performing Alongside a Mentor at Gleneagles
There are certain moments in your career that feel quietly significant whilst they are happening.
Not because thousands of people are watching.
Not because cameras are rolling.
Not because the event itself is necessarily the largest you’ve ever performed.
But because somewhere deep down you realise you’ve arrived at a moment you once only imagined from a distance.
Several years ago I received a message from Scottish mentalist Drew McAdam asking if I would be available to join him and hypnotist James Brown for a large international corporate event at the historic Gleneagles resort in Scotland.
I remember reading the message and immediately smiling.
Not simply because of the venue itself, although Gleneagles had long sat in my mind as one of those legendary places every performer hopes to eventually work, but because it was Drew asking.
For years I had studied his books, listened to his lectures and admired the calm, intelligent way he approached performance. Drew had built a long and respected career as a mind reader and psychological entertainer, becoming known to many as “The Human Lie Detector” through his television appearances and live work throughout the UK.
And now I was being invited to work alongside him.
The Journey North
I travelled up from Newark on the LNER line towards Edinburgh Waverley, spending much of the journey quietly reflecting on the unusual nature of the profession.
One day you are studying somebody’s work from afar.
Years later you suddenly find yourself travelling across the country to share a corporate event with them as a colleague.
After arriving in Edinburgh I boarded a connecting train towards Livingston where Drew and James were waiting to collect me.
Even from the moment I stepped into Drew’s car, it was obvious how seriously he approached every aspect of live events. In the days beforehand he had already sent us detailed joining instructions covering travel arrangements, timings, accommodation plans and even warnings about the Royal Highland Show potentially causing airport chaos for James on the return journey.
It made me laugh slightly because performers often share many of the same quirks beneath the surface, especially when it comes to travel and logistics.
There is comfort in organisation when your profession largely revolves around unpredictable live environments.
A Manor House in Scotland
Drew had arranged accommodation for us at a beautiful manor house set within its own substantial grounds.
The place was stunning.
I unpacked my case, hung my suit up ready for later that evening and sat quietly with a coffee for a short while taking everything in. There was something calming about the entire environment. Peaceful. Spacious. Very different to the pace of normal daily life.
Later that afternoon Drew collected us and we began the drive towards Gleneagles itself.
The scenery throughout the journey was extraordinary and Drew enthusiastically pointed out landmarks and sights along the way like a proud tour guide showing visitors around his homeland.
Then suddenly, there they were.
The Kelpies.
I had seen photographs countless times before, but seeing the enormous horse sculptures emerge in person beside the road genuinely stopped me in my tracks mentally for a moment. Scotland seemed to unfold like cinema throughout the journey.
And then eventually came Gleneagles.
Arriving at Gleneagles
Some venues carry an atmosphere long before you even walk through the doors.
Gleneagles is one of them.
The event itself was a large-scale international corporate gathering with many guests travelling from India. A substantial section of the grounds had been transformed for the occasion, including a huge marquee positioned outside beside the lawns.
We arrived with plenty of time and Drew immediately seemed completely at home within the environment. Staff greeted him warmly and it quickly became obvious that he was highly respected there.
Honestly, I felt proud simply being part of the team he had assembled.
We were shown to a private room where we could prepare before the evening began and one of the things I remember most fondly was quietly observing the different little rituals performers go through before stepping in front of guests.
We all had our own quirks.
Our own rhythms.
Our own methods of mentally switching into performance mode.
Strangely, it was reassuring to realise how similar we all were beneath the surface.
Golden Light on the Lawns
As the evening began, guests naturally spread between the marquee, restaurant area and surrounding lawns outside.
I initially focused much of my attention outdoors where groups had gathered enjoying the warm evening air while the sun slowly began lowering across the grounds. For a short period everything was covered in beautiful golden light and the entire event felt almost cinematic.
The reactions throughout the evening were wonderful.
Groups would gradually grow larger as nearby guests became curious and joined in. One moment I would be performing for four people, then suddenly ten or fifteen guests would be gathered around reacting together.
That ripple effect is something I’ve always loved about live mentalism at corporate events. Curiosity spreads naturally through a crowd.
At one point I noticed both Drew and James standing perhaps thirty feet away quietly watching one of my performances unfold. As I finished, Drew gestured for me to walk over and explained the client was shortly about to begin the formal opening speeches within the marquee before dinner service would begin.
We had been asked to pause performances during the speeches and then continue mingling between the tables throughout the meal afterwards.
Watching a Master at Work
Once dinner service began, we spread ourselves naturally throughout the marquee continuing to entertain guests between courses.
But privately, I wanted to ensure I found an opportunity to properly watch Drew perform live.
Not lecture.
Not explain.
Not discuss theory.
Perform.
Eventually I positioned myself close enough to quietly observe one of his performances at a table nearby.
And honestly, it was wonderful.
Everything he had ever spoken about or taught suddenly existed there in real time directly in front of me. The pacing. The confidence. The subtle humour. The audience management. The calm authority.
It was all there.
The guests absolutely loved him.
Watching somebody whose work you have admired for years effortlessly command a room in person is a very different experience from reading words in a book or watching clips online. There was a smoothness and naturalness to everything he did that only truly reveals itself through years of real-world experience.
I remember standing there feeling genuinely happy that I was finally getting to witness it properly firsthand.
Winding Down Afterwards
The remainder of the evening unfolded exactly as you would hope.
Lavish dinner service.
Live music.
Wonderful reactions.
Guests enjoying themselves fully.
Eventually the performances came to an end and we packed our things away while the venue staff kindly brought us food to eat before the drive back.
We sat discussing the evening together from our different perspectives as performers, exchanging observations about the guests, the atmosphere and the event itself.
Most importantly to me however, Drew seemed genuinely pleased with how the evening had gone.
That mattered.
Later that night, after returning to the manor house, I sat alone outside in the gardens for twenty minutes simply winding down from the day.
The grounds were silent and peaceful.
The air felt cool.
Everything finally slowed down.
After the intensity and stimulation of a large live event, those quiet moments afterwards often become strangely important. A chance to decompress before returning to normal life again.
I eventually headed inside, showered and fell asleep deeply.
More Than Just a Corporate Event
Looking back now, what stays with me most about Gleneagles is not necessarily the luxury surroundings or even the scale of the event itself.
It is the feeling of shared respect between performers.
As entertainers, many of us spend years studying people we admire from afar, absorbing ideas and quietly learning through observation. Opportunities to eventually stand beside those same people professionally are actually surprisingly rare.
That evening at Gleneagles felt like one of those invisible moments where a personal circle quietly closes.
Not as a student watching from the audience anymore.
But as a fellow performer sharing the same stage.