Not clowning around

Tonight's entry is not so much a blogpost as an unpaid ad for Cirque du Soleil.

I took the family to see Luzia, the latest Cirque show to tour Southern California, back around Christmas (Remember Christmas? You should be seeing decorations for it any day now) when they were at Dodger Stadium. We've seen all their shows, but this was by far, for me, the favorite.

So much so that I got us all tickets to see it again today at the Orange County Fairgrounds.

It's astonishing how creative this troupe is. A breathtaking combination of dance, art, comedy, music, song, athleticism, skill, daring, courage and discipline, Luzia is a vision. A dream. A moment out of time. A magical encounter with something true.

The beauty of Luzia is it doesn't allow anyone to be a passive viewer. It demands you feel something. Whether it's wonder, entertained, thrilled, inspired or transported, you simply can't escape its otherworldly pull.

Naturally, with all the spectacularly fit, athletic performers and lithe bodies doing incredible feats requiring uncommon strength—flying through the air, hanging from a single chord from the top of the tent, jumping from one giant swing and launching each other across the stage onto another swing —it was a lot like looking in a mirror. So much so I had to keep reminding myself I was an only child.

I don't know how much longer the show is in Orange County, but if you check the Google I'm sure you can find out. I'd check for you, but the less I type the words Orange County before the midterms the better.

At the center of the story is a clown, although not the typical Emmett Kelly clown you might picture. He is our guide through it all, and has a moment of poignancy at the end that is nothing less than beautiful.

I'm hoping to see Luzia a third time before it packs up and heads to the next city. My compulsive nature (have I mentioned Springsteen, Vegas, Breaking Bad and sushi lately?) makes me want to see it again and again.

Working in advertising agencies as long as I have, you might've heard or read where I've described them as a circus. And they definitely are.

Sadly, none of them are as beautiful, artful or as magical as this one.

String theory

Why are you looking at a picture of Stu Rosen (aka Dusty), Maxine the Crow, Stanley Spider and Scooter the Squirrel? It’s because I don’t want you looking at a picture of me in a black shirt, tights and a bright yellow scarf tied around my neck.

Even though I know how badly you want to see that.

One of the many odd jobs I’ve had was working for master puppeteer Tony Urbano. In the marionette world – and yes, there is a marionette world - there are a few giants. Bob Baker was one. Tony was another.

Even if you don't know his name, you've seen Tony's work in Men In Black (1 & 2), The Abyss and Team America: World Police.

Tony’s studio was a warehouse in a small industrial park in Van Nuys. I’d seen an ad for a job while I was at UCLA (all hour and a half), so I went and applied. I interviewed with Richard who ran the studio, and who’d later become a good friend of mine.

Cue the Twilight Zone theme.

In the part of the studio that opened to the parking lot via a garage door hung dozens of marionettes. Skeletons. Pianists. Crazy looking ones, whose eyes followed you as you walked around the room after closing.

Did that one just turn his head? I’ll swear he did.

Anyway, Tony did shows for corporate and children’s events. He had a road company of puppeteers, of which I was one, and an ingenious puppet stage he’d designed that, when folded, was about four feet by twenty feet and fit on the roof rack of the company station wagon.

I, along with one of the other puppeteers, danced dolls at events in Redlands, Topanga Mall, South Coast Plaza and Universal Studios. We did celebrity birthday parties, although I can’t remember which ones.

It was open puppetry, that is to say we danced them right out in the open and not from behind a curtain to hide us.

Tony was also the puppeteer on Dusty’s Treehouse (remember that picture?) a kids show that ran for ten years on KNXT-TV. It even won a Peabody Award. I got to work on the show many times, and was able to get my AFTRA card because of it.

Here’s one of my fond memories of Tony.

One day we were at the studio and some young kids were playing ball in the parking lot. The garage door was open, and the kids were looking at all the marionettes inside. Richard, Tony and I were in there. Tony was manipulating Maxine as he was going over a new script for Dusty’s Treehouse. One of the kids recognized the puppet, and yelled, “Where’s Dusty?” And without breaking stride, Tony shot the kid a look and in his bitchiest voice said, “Dusty’s dead.”

I felt sad for the kid, but Richard and I couldn’t stop laughing.

The other thing we used to do when Tony wasn’t around was have a little fun with the Piano Player puppet. His hands were sculpted as if he were playing the keyboard. So Richard would grab the strings, fly him around the room, then land him on the side of a plastic trash can. He’d have his hands on the side, and make his head look down in the trash can and make throwing up sounds. It was awesome.

Guess you had to be there.

Anyway, there comes a time in every boys life where he has to stop playing with dolls, so eventually I moved on. Fortunately I found my calling, such as it is, in advertising.

There's about the same amount of manipulation and string pulling.

But at least I don't have to wear the tights.