Marionettes, masks and shadows

by Winifred H. Mills; Louise M. Dunn

Two small figures on one side and one large figure on the other side. How satisfying! The reason is balance. You can see by these two simple illustrations how necessary it is to keep in mind not only the movements of your puppets, but the positions of all the puppets on the stage. If each puppeteer understands this and considers the relation of his puppet to every other puppet, the audience will always see an interesting picture.

Equally as important as the stage picture is the conduct of your puppets when on the stage. They should all show interest when another puppet is speaking. This may be done by turning the head to listen, nodding the head to show agreement, shaking the head to show disagreement, leaning forward to show interest. In a hundred small ways a puppet can show life. The point is, there should be no dead puppets on the stage.

But there is a danger here. Puppets must not divert the attention of the audience from the main character. For example, in Men of Iron in the scene showing the great hall of Devlin Castle, the minstrel is singing before the king and his court. The jester, with his pranks and capers, could easily have taken too much of the attention of the audience to himself and away from the minstrel, but instead, he sat down on the floor near the minstrel and pretended to be playing a lute. He followed every gesture of the minstrel and when the minstrel finished his song, rose and bowed low before the king. The jester did likewise, to the amusement of the audience.

Good puppeteering is much like good ball playing, the interest is in the ball but the ball always moves. It goes from player to player. Any player who holds the ball is the center of interest, some longer and some shorter. Your skill and cleverness can keep this sense of movement and interest in your puppets and their play. This smoothness is accomplished by your quickness in watching for the last words spoken by the speaker before you, which is called your cue; and also by your cleverness in planning ways to help out a puppeteer and his puppet who has difficult things to do.

When the bear trainer, for example, commands his bear to stand on his head, the boy who is holding the bear’s controller must have time enough to make the difficult manipulation of the strings. If the puppeteers who manage the squires make their puppets lean forward and call out in surprise to each other, “What? A trick?” “The bear can do a trick.” “Look.” “Bravo!” “Bravo!” (as the bear succeeds in standing on its head), they will be of great assistance to the bear puppeteer.

Here is an illustration of the way in which you can avoid awkward pauses. The Knave of Hearts, in the play by that name, steals some tarts and climbs out of the window. Now you can see that his puppeteer would need plenty of time in getting the knave through the window. Lady Violetta, who helps him steal the tarts, shows great excitement and cries to him to hurry, then she runs to the door, saying that she hears someone coming. Then she runs back again. She repeats this until the knave has made his escape. You can easily imagine how this clever trick excited the audience.

Getting your puppet off the stage is just as important as getting it on. Time your exits so that there is no awkward pause between the last word spoken and the exit.

You have imagined yourself sitting in the audience seeing a picture. Now can you imagine your disappointment when you cannot understand a single word the puppets say? Inexperienced puppeteers are apt to think that it is the high, loud voice that will reach the people in the last row of seats. Experienced puppeteers know that it is the clear, full, rich voice that carries. Address your words to those farthest away from you. Keep in mind that your voice must travel down and out through the proscenium arch. If your head is not lowered, your voice will strike the curtain, which will deaden it.

Sometimes it is necessary to make the voice seem to come from a distance and yet every word must be distinct. This can be done in a very simple way. Bend your arm and lift it to your face, holding your mouth inside your elbow. Now when you speak, your words seem to come from a distance. As you slowly lift your mouth from your arm, your voice seems to come nearer and nearer. In Sigurd, the Volsung, there is a scene where the dragon, who possesses a treasure of gold, comes, at twilight, out of the rocky crevice of a great cliff, to drink at a pool. Before he is seen, his voice is dimly heard calling, “Gold, gold, my gold, my gold.” The boy who spoke these lines used this trick so cleverly that his audience shivered as the dragon appeared.

Every person knows that the greatest charm of a voice is its naturalness. This naturalness comes to you when you let your feelings go down the strings into your puppet. Then it is that your puppet comes to life, is gay, sad, prankish, haughty, timid, bold, willful, cunning, sly, or lovable. When your puppet obeys your every feeling, you and your puppet are one.