Rules of Attraction?

Why are some puppeteers attracted to one style of puppetry and some to others? Does it have to do primarily with age? Cultural upbringing? Or personality? I engage in several styles of puppetry, but some resonate and some just don't. But why?

There have been many books and papers written about who creates what type of character in role playing games (RPGs), like Dungeons & Dragons, Everquest, etc. One study found that self-described introverts tend to play characters who they feel they would be if not encumbered by an introverted nature. They tend, however, to play non-aggressive roles, and often play the same character types in various games.

Self-described extroverts like to vary their personalities and adventures. They value social experiences in the game, but hold no preference for one character type over another. They claim to like to challenge themselves with different roles, or choose characters based on the moods that they are in.

The study goes on to say that (based on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator) "Feelers" can immerse themselves more fully in characters than others, "Intuitives" learn about themselves through playing characters, and "Thinkers" simply analyze situations during the experience.

Is this the same for puppeteers? Are some types of people attracted to marionettes while others find shadow puppetry enticing? Do Muppet-style puppets resonate with some personalities, while others find nothing in it? What about the characters we create?

I am surprised that no one has tackled this as a journal article. Maybe I will. I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions....

And So It Continues

So, Greece and Turkey have history. Which is the understatement of several centuries. Since 1821, they have been embroiled in four major wars. I am not going to get into the details because a) it is really, really complicated and b) I am bound to make some error that will result in my being disowned. Not really. Maybe. But I'm not taking any chances.

However, what is vital to this conversation is an understanding of the migration of shadow puppetry from Asia to Europe. Originating in China, the art form spread to areas of Mongolian conquest as troops used the puppets to entertain themselves. Additionally, French missionaries in China brought the style even more westward when they returned to their homes in the 1700s. One such area of Mongolian conquest, however, was Turkey.

In Turkey, shadow puppetry is called "Karagoz and Hacivat." These are the names of stock characters who are generally the leads in the shadow plays. The story is that there were two construction workers in the 1300s whose volleying banter amused their co-workers, but slowed progress considerably. They were killed as punishment, but they became folk heroes. Legend has it that one of their co-workers made puppets of their likenesses and began to perform stories that he had heard. Karagoz is lewd, uneducated, and deceitful, whereas Hacivat is learned, and speaks a more refined version of Turkish. Karagoz, of course, outwits Hacivat every time.

Greeks disagree about the origins of their shadow puppetry, referred to as "Karagiozis." Some believe that Greeks originated the form, however, most believe that it was an adaptation of the Turks' Karagoz. Becoming popular during Ottoman occupation, Karagiozis tales were able to express subversive themes that would not have been able to be expressed in other ways. Of course, this is only a brief description, and I urge anyone who has not seen such plays to visit YouTube, as live shows in the U.S. are infrequent.

At any rate, UNESCO recently decided to declare this style of puppetry to be of Turkish cultural heritage. And so the Greeks' hackles are raised, and perhaps rightfully so. Greece's foreign ministry spokesman Grigoris Delavekouras even stated, "The UNESCO convention on intangible cultural heritage enables neighboring countries to access the same commodity," a statement that is uncharacteristically ecumenical. Delavekouras assured Greeks, however, that there will be further discussion with UNESCO in October.

Didn't UNESCO officials know what they were stepping into when they announced the rightful "owners" of Karagoz or Karayiozis? More as this develops...

The Early Years

So, who were the earliest puppeteers?

I am working on a paper where this bit of info would come in really handy, and little to no information really exists. A mention here, a mention there. Connect the dots yourself, and either come up with a Truth or a big fat ball of Supposition.

It's pretty apparent that puppeteers were mostly itinerant. Of course, there are the exceptions: the monks and priests that used puppets to tell religious stories, families groups competing in mua roi nuoc, those touched by the spirits in the Seneca Nation, to name a few.

But why didn't we organize earlier the way that actors did? The first professional acting company was in 1430. One hundred years later, drama was an institutionalized part of a student's education. Admittedly, I am skipping over some serious theatre setbacks (for example, the Puritan Revolution), but still...In 3 years, it will be the 100th anniversary of the theatre degree in the United States.

Were we solitary by nature, solitary by craft, or were we just bad organizers?

Many of us still live rather itinerant lives. Perhaps we don't cross the land in wagons (though some of us do - in trucks), but most of us do live lives of loading up cars with puppets, theatres, sound/lighting equipment, unloading, performing, reloading and unpacking...over and over and over again. Are we that much different? How would puppetry have evolved if puppeteers had created guilds and performing companies early on, instilling puppetry as a classic art?

The Zappets

A couple of years ago, I saw CEO of Zappo's, Tony Hsieh, on Oprah. I was completely taken with him, and have tortured friends and acquaintances since with my recollections of that interview.

Quick history: Zappo's was created by Nick Swinmurn, a motivated guy who couldn't find shoes that fit his feet. He wanted to start an internet company that sold shoes, a weird idea then to a public used to trying shoes on in a physical store. Enter Tony Hsieh. Hsieh was 25 and had recently made $265 million from an internet marketing company that he started three years earlier with his college roommate (sigh). Hsieh decided to invest in Swinmurn's idea, and eventually became the CEO. Swinmurn left when the company became successful as he was interested in new projects.

Some interesting facts:

• Hsieh is a soft-spoken guy, who is all about company culture and customer service.
  
• He has a cubicle, just like everyone else, so that he is no less accessible.
• Hsieh hopes that by 2018, Zappo's is no longer primarily associated with shoes, but with excellent customer service.
• No matter what job you are hired for, you must spend one month in customer training (at full salary), two weeks of which is taking phone calls. After one week, you are offered $3,000 to leave, no questions asked.
  
• 97% turn down that offer.

Enter their newest marketing promotion: The Zappets.

Created to resemble actual Zappo's employees, these puppets star in commercials designed to underscore the company's commitment to customer satisfaction. Zappo's CSRs are not given scripts nor are there time limits per call and employees are encouraged to keep their offbeat personalities, all of which are clearly illustrated in the commercials. Interestingly, actors were hired to call actual CSRs with quirky scenarios (one customer wants to exchange her workout clothes for a deep fryer, another claims that she is not "ready" for a dress that she received), but the CSRs were under the impression that they were authentic calls and not material for a marketing promotion.

The Zappets are just another example of puppets being used lately in advertising. These commercials remind me a lot of Crank Yankers, and I think that they are very successful. Having quirky puppets stand in as the visual for such ridiculous audio is pretty brilliiant and almost forgives the excruciating CGI eyes that the Zappets have. What on earth were they thinking?

If you are interesting in the making of the Zappets, click here. At any rate, a big thumbs up to Zappo's.

The Smile Stitchers

Sometimes, when we are teaching the very young, and one of them is sad sad sad, my wonderful partner will draw the smallest happy face on their tiny little index finger. It's almost guaranteed that it will result in a smile (I can't think of a time that it has not worked, actually). Of course, the desire for this novelty will immediately spread like wildfire, and soon the entire class will want happy faces, sad faces, mustaches, eyelashes, and so on and so forth....Gone will be any hope of teaching correct hand positions, or puppet history, and instead we will have a class in love with finger puppets.

Because of this inescapable truth, today I felt like it was necessary to give a shout out to a group of ladies called the Smile Stitchers. For the past 36 years, this troop from the First Baptist Church of Richardson, Texas (outside of Dallas) has built 20,000 finger puppets a year for the Children's Medical Center in Dallas. This group consists of 45 members, most of whom meet once a month to cut, and some volunteers then take the pieces home to stitch and adorn. The finger puppets are not all alike - they come in a variety of characters and animals. The ladies say that each puppet takes about 30-40 minutes to build. For those of you doing the math, that is 15,000 hours of manpower annually. 20,000 puppets! Granted, they are finger puppets, but that seems incredibly taxing.

There is very little history about the origins of finger puppets. Maybe because it is like researching the origins of the ball...I'm sure that as soon as a child or a mother figured out that it was an amusing distraction, it spread as quickly as it does in one of our classes. I think that it is important to note that no matter how savvy we get, we are all still mesmerized by the same basic thing: giving life to something that we know in our minds isn't real. But our hearts just won't keep up, huh?

Hey, Jealousy.

You know, there are times when you are happy for another artist, and there are times when you are just plain jealous. Jealous of their flashes of creativity, gumption, their work. That is happening to me at this very moment, and, I suspect, throughout the month to come.

Two puppeteers in New York City have taken it upon themselves to collect $10,000 in gold coins (they say that it took several years, during which they hid their collection in their apartment) and bury it in the city somewhere. They claim that they buried the treasure box last November. Over the course of the next month and a half, they will release a series of eight videos that will give clues to viewers as to where to dig. They promise that the money is buried and findable (one puppeteer said that he is willing to be punched in the nose if they are lying), and the first person to find it may keep it. The videos are centered around a cast of pirate puppets (and one ninja, of course).

The puppeteers are remaining anonymous for fear of their safety. It has been reported that they are in their 30s, and one is also a freelance video editor. This is clear, in that the introductory video is beautifully crafted.

The puppeteers claim that they created this adventure as a way to draw attention to their work, but also say that they just want people to have fun watching their videos. They hope, also, that funding might become available from sources who see them as they become viral hits. Interestingly, as of this posting, only 25,000 have seen the initial video, which is a pity! This project has its own website and Facebook group. Apparently, this is not the first time that this type of marketing tool has been used to generate interest. In the late 1970s, for example, a children's book by Kit Williams, entitled Masquerade, concealed clues to a buried jewelled pendant of a hare that was buried somewhere in Great Britain. Unfortunately, that adventure didn't end so well, but I can't wait to see how this one progresses!

So, kudos to these guys for being so inventive! Now I'm going to hang with my new green-eyed monster friend.

By the way, they say it's not in Central Park.

Pants on the Ground

This is not what I had planned on writing about today. However, this morning, I had a mortifying experience occur during a gig, and what better way to seal the deal than to write about it on the internet?

So, the train started down the track toward Disaster when we were asked to come to a summer reading program to perform with our life-sized alter-ego puppets. For this group, we were prepared to tell a handful of Louisiana folktales, and we rely heavily on audience participation. My partner built these puppets, and they are beautiful. We have used them many times, and although we initially had some issues with weight, we now have unobtrusive harnesses that make lengthy shows much easier. We, as puppeteers, are behind the puppets in puppet blacks, hooded - we manipulate one of the puppet's arm with our own arm in a sleeve/glove, and our other arm/hand is used to manipulate the head and mouth. The puppets share our feet, as my puppet's pant legs gradually wrap around my ankle.

Most of the students at this program had never seen a puppet show, and I would wager that not one of them had even fathomed this type of puppetry, based on their initial reactions. As we were entering the space, my partner checked me out, and remarked that my puppet's pants were sitting a little low. His comment was purely aesthetic - they are in period inspired tramp style clothes - and was not a comment based in logistical concern.

For this performance, we did not have to be mic'ed as the house was small, and both of our voices carry. What is particularly nice about this is that since we are hooded, we cannot read each other's facial expressions, but we can we whisper to one another, if neccessary. We have learned over the years when we have to be mic'ed to use secret words to let the other know if we are in trouble, a trick we immediately implemented after a dangerously hot outdoor venue. At any rate, about halfway through the show, my partner took a sec in between tales to let me know that my puppet's neck seemed truncated.

So, there we were, telling a story - volunteer performers with us in front of an audience of around 50, when, in an attempt to elongate my neck, I must have stretched the puppet's torso too much and I immediately felt the puppet get a whole lot lighter. Gasps from a handful of front row students let me know in nanoseconds that there was big trouble. As you may have guessed from the title, my puppet had lost her pants. Down around both of our ankles.

But, it gets worse. These types of puppets have no legs. They only have torsos, and brief thigh-beginnings, since we eventually share legs. So.....my puppet not only had her pants down around our ankles, but now looked like a very scary amputee. Not that amputees are scary, but this sight must have come as quite a shock. I know that it was to me.

I immediately grabbed the pants and held them to her waist, and let my partner know that I was going to leave and come right back. He had missed the whole fiasco (I think the whole thing was only a matter of moments) but knew that I must be having some serious technological issues.

As I cleared the view of the audience, I tore this now completely disloyal puppet from my body, and tried to regain my composure. I stood there for a full ten seconds, gathering my thoughts, and considering getting in the car and leaving. But, trooper that I have learned to be, I put her back together and calmly reentered the stage. I couldn't think of anything witty to say (not my strength, really) but I jumped back in and did my best to finish the show.

We always tape our performances. I have not yet gathered the courage to watch it, and I have little faith that I will in the near future, since I was definitely lookin' like a fool with my pants on the ground.