PI 51 Editorial

There is something about a surprise – by which I mean the good kind of surprise – that engenders one of my very favorite emotions: delight. For me, this has often happens when I encounter puppets in places where I don’t expect to find them – on a mountain path, in the middle of a park or just strutting down a city street. I turn a corner and suddenly BAM! there they are: a herd of snails crossing a rock ledge, an angel singing praises to “Mother Earth” or a curious, androgynous figure animated by three young puppeteers. How wonderful!

Though I grew up in a world where Brecht had already turned the commonly held notions of naturalism and “the fourth wall” on their heads, I was nonetheless brought up knowing that my place in the theater was to sit quietly in a plush seat inside a darkened auditorium and watch a story as if I were a fly on the wall in someone’s living room. In those years, the puppetry to which I had access was almost entirely on television. The hand puppets were performed in a booth, while the marionettes were essentially the human theater (or television or film) in small. I was captivated by it all, but as I began my college and then professional career in theater and encountered Bread and Puppet, Green Ginger and others who performed on street corners or in gravel pits, I found that sense of delight so often missing in other sorts of theater. I remember encountering András Lénárt (Mikropódium) from Hungary, performing on the street in northern Italy. His entire show could be performed on a tabletop about one-foot square. Exquisite!

That sense of delight was the motivation behind this issue – puppetry performed in spaces not originally designed as puppet theaters. Peer Review Editor Dassia Posner came up with the name “Offstage!” and we were off and running. Dassia writes about the experience of seeing the enormous figures of France’s “Royal de Luxe” inhabit the streets of Montréal. Also featured are the Czech Republic‘s Forman Brothers, who turned an old barge into their performance space. Many years ago, Cameron Wilson worked on the original restoration of that vessel and writes about the theater as it has evolved. Jane Taylor interviewed Handspring Theatre’s Adrian Kohler about The Walk – a journey of some 5000 miles through Europe by a 10’ tall puppet of Little Amal, a young, Muslim refugee. Board member and frequent contributor Claudia Orenstein is spending the year in Japan, and has discovered a form of puppetry there that is essentially unique to a particular mountain town – a ritual performance that takes place in shrines, private homes and even shopping malls. All that and more awaits you in the upcoming pages.

We had hoped to have a piece on the Zielony Balonik, or The Green Balloon Cabaret, which featured some very political puppetry in Krakow, Poland in the early years of the 20th century. Unfortunately, our author has experienced some setbacks, but we hope to have his article in our fall issue.

PI #51 also includes our second preview of the PIR (Puppetry International Research) review, which will begin to publish full, online editions in 2023 under the editorship of Claudia Orenstein. Our second preview edition is at the back of this magazine (starting on page 34) and features the life and work of four Black American puppeteers.

We are happy to announce that Alissa Mello and Mike Kelly are working with Bonnie and me on the process of putting together the next two issues Puppetry International, and with the spring issue of 2023 they will take over the reins as the new editor and designer of PI. Alissa is a puppeteer and dancer as well as having her PhD in theater from the Royal Holloway School, University of London. Along with other academic publications, she has been a PI contributor. Mike Kelly (who also happens to be Alissa’s husband) has years of experience as a puppeteer, while also having a career as a graphic designer and art director. We’re looking forward to seeing Puppetry International open a new chapter.

–Andrew Periale