PUPPETS IN SPACE
by Andrew C. Periale
I was in the Theater program at the University of
Maine back in the early 1970s. Al Cyrus designed all
the sets for mainstage productions back then. As an
aspiring actor, I presumed that a designer's work was
a mix of stylistic and practical considerations:
"We need a door here…an eighteenth century Colonial
door," or "This is an abstract set, we'll just use
a door frame…and some black cubes!"
Al also taught all the classes in Stage Lighting, Make
Up, Set Design and Construction. In his Design class
he'd start out by showing us lots of examples. "Look
at this," he'd say, showing us the floor plan and elevation
drawings for a set. After an attempt at analysis on
our parts, he'd continue. "No, really look. This play
is all about watching. The characters are always observing,
or being observed by others. The design calls for mirrored
panels here, here and here so that characters can see
each other without being seen. Three mirrors, which
correspond to the three main characters…" and so on.
Light bulb! Eureka! A set, I understood in that moment,
is not just an actor's rumpus room. It is the playwright's
intent expressed entirely in physical terms. My Earth
moved. My paradigm shifted.
Around that time we were visited by Al's mentor, Henry
Kurth. Then at Case-Western Reserve, he had also worked
with Martha Graham, Paul Taylor and Isamu Naguchi.
As we pored over his gorgeous renderings on greyboard,
I heard someone say: "[Kurth] doesn't design sets,
he designs space."
When we proposed a "Puppets in Space" issue, these
are the questions we were hoping to answer: What are
the spaces in which puppets play, who designs them
and what are their guiding principles? I imagined traditional
playing spaces as no more than a footnote to contemporary
"designed spaces." Articles began arriving that quickly
stretched my notion of "Space." For one thing, the
Punch booth and shadow screen are still very much with
us, both in their original forms and in countless modern
mutations. To this is added cinematic space, implied
space, virtual space and even literary space.
There are also buildings designed for puppet performances,
including Scotland's Biggar Theatre [page 18], and The
Puppet Company's new theater at Glen Echo [page 20].
Brad Clark considers two very different institutions
where puppeteers perform in view of the audience—Japan's
regional ningyō jōruri theaters [page 22], and Atlanta's
Center for Puppetry Arts, in a recent production of Anne
Frank: Within and Without [page 32].
Even our book reviews can be thought of in terms of design
and space. Marc Estrin and Ron Simone have produced a
book about Bread and Puppet —a company that typically
fills enormous "found spaces" with its gigantic puppets.
Rainer Reusch's new volume on Shadow puppetry, the third
in a series, is an excellent look at how a traditional
playing space has been thoroughly and repeatedly re-imagined
in modern times.
Puppeteers are a creative lot. You cannot go to a puppet
festival without seeing a show set in a new space—a shoebox,
a washing machine, a parachute. As we consider "Puppets
in Space," though, let's remember not only our innovators,
but our mentors—those men and women who once sat down
with young actors, and puppeteers, and said: "No, really
look." |