Date: Fri 29-Nov-1996

Publication: Bee

Author: DOTTIE

Quick Words:

schools-puppets-Rogers

Full Text:

with cuts: Antique Puppets A Class Act At Sandy Hook

B Y D OROTHY E VANS

When Danbury puppetmaker and performer Robert Rogers was a young boy, he was

fascinated with puppets and their history, to the point where he was soon

creating his own puppets.

"Soon I found I was putting on performances for birthday parties during my

public school days," Mr Rogers told a roomful of Sandy Hook first graders last

week.

Perhaps that was why he seemed quite comfortable sitting in front of the

children, introducing them to a few of his most interesting puppets that he'd

brought along for the demonstration. They were antiques he had collected over

the years that had been made by master puppeteers from many countries.

"Most of the time, I don't know who the puppetmakers were," he said, but he

wanted the students to see how the puppets worked and to appreciate their

unique features.

"Where's the stage?" one child asked.

But Mr Rogers was dressed in everyday clothes and sat in a chair, working the

puppets one by one, for everyone to see the artistry of those unknown

puppeteers.

There was a warrior general from China with an elegant silk dress and a

fierce-looking painted face that worked by moving the fingers and hands.

A gypsy lady wearing full skirts and carrying maracas was the biggest and most

complicated puppet. Mr Rogers estimated that she was probably more than 60

years old, and showed where there were 19 strings that had been attached to

her head, arms, body and feet.

As he tenderly removed her from the carrying case and made her dance, Mr

Rogers explained where she'd come from.

"She was made by a woman named Sarah who is now 94 years old and who can't

work her anymore. Sarah wanted this puppet to be used and enjoyed, so she gave

her to me," he said.

Next, he showed the children a rod puppet, a "very strange looking woman" with

an elegant, carved face, that had come from Indonesia.

An ugly man puppet, also very old and having a big bump on his neck, drew a

reaction from the students, perhaps because he had a scary face and was rather

dirty.

"I don't dare wash him. His paint might come off. The bump means he probably

came from a country where people couldn't go to a doctor to take care of such

things," Mr Rogers said.

They enjoyed watching a wooden pig puppet with jointed legs dance, and they

thought the flat puppets made of leather and animal bones were pretty, if a

bit weird.

"See how the light shines through the holes and seems to give them life," he

said, as he held the delicate leather puppets up to a window so the sun could

shine through all the pierced places.

Mr Rogers worked a juggling Indian string puppet that resembled a genie,

making it seem to toss a ball back and forth between its two hands.

Then Mr Rogers plucked its head off. The children loved that.

"In the old days, puppetmakers sometimes took their puppets apart at night so

they wouldn't come alive and get into trouble," he said.

Mr Rogers presented several classroom workshops at Sandy Hook, Thursday,

November 21, demonstrating not only the antique puppets, but also several he'd

made himself in his Danbury studio.

The series of workshops were given to kindergarten through second grade

classes, as part of the Artist in Residency program of the PTA Cultural Arts

Commission. They would be followed, Friday, November 22, by a full-blown

puppet show titled, "The Name of The Tree," and performed by the Robert Rogers

Puppet Company troupe.

The star of Friday's show was an appealing looking tortoise Mr Rogers had

created himself.

"I made him from clay, plaster, fabric and stuffing," he said, but the

finished product obviously had far more personality than would seem possible

from the sum of those parts.

As Mr Rogers cradled the tortoise on his arm and explained how he could move

his hand inside the head, why he'd painted a certain expression on the face or

how the shell had been attached, the children seemed a bit impatient.

They wanted to hear what the tortoise had to say. What his voice would sound

like.

"I experimented with different voices," Mr Rogers said, giving the children a

preview of tortoise talk in bossy, booming tones or high-pitched nervous

giggles.

"None of those sounded right for him," he concluded.

Then he let the tortoise speak and move, using its "real voice" - a slow,

careful, slightly goofy baritone that seemed to satisfy everyone in the room.

It didn't matter if there wasn't a stage. The puppeteer had his audience in

the palm of his hand.