The Internet can do a lot for those who seek arcane knowledge. But if you'd like to spend a weekend munching a lightbulb or swallowing a sword, Dean of the Coney Island Sideshow School Todd Robbins is quite sure that's not the place to start.

"You need really personal instruction from someone who knows the proper way," he said in a recent Advocate interview. That's because, he explains, sideshow performers do stunts rather than deception, and the danger in sword swallowing, for instance, is real. And, he adds, "This is stuff that's got to be done 10-12 times a day [to learn]."

With plenty of stunts in his repertoire, Robbins knows how to navigate dangers. Still, one particular stunt is so demanding he's since mostly dropped it. "The hardest thing I do—not very often anymore—is a strong-man stunt, blowing up a hot water bottle until it explodes. Occasionally I would work a place like the Magic Castle, where I was doing three shows a night, seven nights a week. That's 21 hot water bottles. It really kicks your blood pressure up a lot. … As you get older, you start rethinking."

Robbins is one of a small group of modern performers who learned sideshow practices from veterans of the heyday of carnivals. For one, Robbins learned the stunt called the Human Blockhead, a name synonymous with the performer Melvin Burkhardt. Burkhardt, whom Robbins knew well, worked carnivals for many years (he died a few years ago) and perfected the fine art of hammering enormous nails into his nose. Old-school performers like Burkhardt aren't easy to find in an era when many a tattooed goth fancies the notion of piercing everything in sight or finding innovative ways to employ standard orifices.

But Robbins has a healthy dose of old-school flair. His speech is quick, nimble, full of the kind of rhythm and wit that calls up the midway—I ask him about learning to eat fire, and he says, "How to eat fire and not make an ash of yourself?"

But that kind of wit in the land of human oddity belies a serious notion that fascinates Robbins. "[Eating fire] does require a certain mindset. There's really nothing to it—it's physically not hard. But it requires a certain mental outlook, and definitely the proper technique. You have to learn that, and then at a certain point, just do it—it's that moment that separates the real performers from the wannabes.

"When you do that, you cross a really wonderful line—the 'possible impossible.' You've done something you thought couldn't be done. That's a very liberating moment. You wonder where else you can go."

Robbins grew up in Southern California, where he and a group of young performers, the Long Beach Mystics, first started perfecting their performance of magic. Robbins discovered his niche: "I found I had the gift of gab. You have to have a good presentation—otherwise it's just shock, and I like to play against that."

This week, you can catch Robbins in the act when the second installment of the Northampton Arts Council's Four Sundays in February continues at the Academy of Music. He'll be joined by two more performers, all paying homage to the legacy of Harry Houdini.

The old-school brand of magic will be represented by Hartford-based David Garrity, who plans to be seen and, perhaps more importantly, not seen—Garrity is known for his habits of vanishing things (and people) and traditional favorites like the Houdini-style straitjacket escape.

The mysterious side of magic called mentalism will be represented by Springfield's Michael Paul. He now performs in the Off-Broadway show Monday Night Magic, and has received rave reviews for his brand of mental magic and old-fashioned legerdemain. Paul is also a co-owner of Indian Orchard's Brick and Mortar magic shop.

The show is called Being Harry Houdini, and Robbins hints that the Academy's famous trap door, installed for a Houdini show years ago, might well come into play. Whatever happens, it will be an afternoon for suspending disbelief: "We are going to be doing all kinds of things—half are going to be real and half fake," says Robbins. "And the ones you think are fake are probably going to be the real ones."

Being Harry Houdini happens Feb. 8 at 2 p.m. at the Academy of Music, 274 Main St., Northampton. Tickets are $8 in advance, $10 at the door. Call (413) 587-1269 or visit Guild Art Centre, State Street Fruit Store, Cooper's Corner, Food for Thought Books or World Eye Bookstore to buy tickets.