Baixas-Rumbau a conversation between puppeteers
Toni Rumbau to Joan Baixas
1- You’re a puppeteer but also a painter or plastic artist. Actually, you left puppetry for some years and devoted yourself to painting. Then you returned to theatre incorporating your painting skills live on stage, going for a clearly perceived form of « teatro visual » and now it seems like you’re returning in some way to the world of puppetry. Do you still identify yourself with that person we call « puppeteer » ? What does he means to you?
« Teatro visual » isn’t a profession, one could say it’s an academic category to study some forms of performances in which special attention is given to visuals on stage in their theatrical treatment or it’s a category used in marketing a festival to give the public some orientation about unfamiliar performances. It’s a name I used and will continue to use, but it shouldn’t confuse, all theatrical performances are visual and the usage of visuals in one way or another doesn’t determine a profession.
But I’m a puppeteer and very happy with my profession, firstly because it’s not regarded as a serious profession and that is wonderful. Not being considered serious is an honour, compared with all what is regarded as such in artistic circles. And above all I like this profession, because herein I can develop, at the same time and in a dialogue with them, the different artistic languages I’m interested in: painting, literature, stage direction and I can do this in a very flexible, very direct way, with craftsmanship.
And there’s also something quite unique, puppetry-performances are taking place in very different contexts, one day you find yourself with a more popular audience and a few days later you find yourself in an extremely sophisticated ambience, avant-garde, such as, for example, the festival in New York, organised by the Henson Foundation and which was seen as the most modern of the city and took place in the most exquisite locations. This diversity of audiences is quite healthy for an artist, because in the end it’s all about connecting the audience with what we do, that it feels challenged, maybe moved.
In 1967 I became a professional in puppetry and was fully committed from the first day on. I like to say that the puppeteers in those days, there were only a very few and all turning around a tradition in real decline, practised many different professions and puppeteer was a complementary one, mostly shown at family parties. I decided to dedicate myself exclusively to it, which turned out difficult economically, but very easy in other aspects. In those times you had to do more than twohundred shows per year to make a living and in some years we did almost threehundred. We were Putxinel·lis Claca and for ten years, with my wife, my sons and an assistant, we did thousands of kilometers in a van, mainly in Catalonia and Spain, but also in Europe. The easiest part was in human relations, there were neither subsidies nor the institutions to give them, but we got enthusiastic support from artists, teachers, political activists, priests, people engaged in culture and neighbourhood communities: politics happened on the street by persons of flesh and blood and were not decided in the domes of the parties. Ten years passed until the company became bigger and we changed it to Teatre de la Claca. Ten years of dressing up of puppets, day after day, with the most diverse audiences, but always with the same puppets the same pieces and with some we ended up playing a thousand times. The hands went by themselves, the character settled itself deeply in one’s soul, the deformed voices were « my » voices coming from the innards. That was my school, my university, my doctorate and for this reason I have always seen myself as a puppeteer.
2- Would you dare to give a definition of a puppeteer?
It’s very strange, as puppeteers we spend our lifes defining what is a puppeteer, this is a weird practise, which I don’t see among my paintor and writer friends, I don’t know why puppeteers do this. Maybe because puppeters could be so many diffferent things, also opposing ones, as each of them wants to line his own pockets. Well, whilst the definitions are not too exaggerated, they appear amusing. I for my part am bad at defining and an avid admirer of Barthlevy, thus « I’d prefer not to ».
3- During your career, you always tried to enter innovative fields, engaging yourself with complex projects in which theatre, puppetry and fine arts interacted on equal terms, like your different collaborations with painters. Undoubtedly, here you must have had important gains in skills and know-how. Could you summarise these? What lines of further development you believe to be laying ahead for the puppet theatre?
When I think of those experiences you mentioned, I get excited about how lucky I was. Luck I had to work for, sure enough, but it was enormous. Having worked with Miró, with Saura, with Tàpies, Brossa, Mariscal, Matta and others, has been wonderful and though the years go by, these experiences are always present, very close. In fact, my studio is full with their sketches and photos because I see them as the maestros who are always at my side.
I learned a lot of things from them and could talk about each of them for hours, but some things they all have in common and these are three gifts: the first, the craftmanship, perceived as methodical, repetitive, insistent, and personal work, the old thought that nothing can be achieved without effort. This is something said very easily but extremely difficult to do, it requires concentration, humility and conviction. Craftmanship is the basis for art because it allows the ego to draw back on a second level and it allows the work to be done by itself and through ourselves, so we are only a support. All great artists speak about this feeling, the clear feeling that the work is done by itself, through ourselves. But this feeling is immense in the performer, the artist acting live and with puppets in his hands, it’s incomparable. This may seem a rhetoric statement and a little pedantic, but I believe that many puppeteers know it, the feeling that the puppet takes possession of you, accompanies you, provokes you, but it is the one alive. I believe, as the puppeteer does not act with his own body, but between him and the audience there is a humanised object, that it causes this brilliant instrument to charge up with power and becomes a scape goat for the primitive rituals which renew his life in every performance and plays a cleansing part, a very amusing and very healthy one.
The second lesson-gift from the maestros was generosity. To be an artist one has te be generous in the most complete sense of the damned word. To say it without much formality, the artist works for the world to look good. The bad looks come already by themselves, already they are coming in constant and insistent waves without anybody calling for them and without anything that can stop them. I am speaking of hunger, violence, illness, of the really bad looks. But the good ones have to be sought, have to be created, pursued and built up gradually. This means generosity with life, commitment to experience, to knowledge, to communication. Miró said that the work isn’t important in itself, important are the seeds which let the work germinate inside the people.
And the third thing is radicality, going for the roots, the bottom of things. In the roots is the primary energy, the exchange of juices with nature, that what’s springing forth from the dark, from the underground. Radicalism is what counts, the compass. It is a personal attitude, a constant feeling.
Brossa said that novelty is not necessarily interesting by itself, novelty can sometimes be very vulgar and very dead, interesting is originality and originality comes from origin. The artist has to go to his own origins to pass it on to the tribe, it’s his job, giving, sharing, churning up the bottom to cloud the waters and to clear up the heart, immersing oneself in a continuous and insistent invention of the most ancient originality. The original is ancestral and radical, every person is very different from all others in his origin, in his roots.
And answering the second part of your question, I believe that puppeteers have as much ahead of them as the other arts, inexhaustible and in a very special way. I always liked to think that the puppets in the theatre – not those of the movies and television, which have some obligations of codification, impoverishing them excessively – are to the actors in the theatre like poetry to a novel: a different world, made from the same words, tightened by the same grammar, but of a totally different experience. I don’t know how to put this in writing, I have no words, but to me it appears that in poetry the pulsating of life seems more pure, more burning. Poetry can only be explained in poetic words – you tongue in my mouth like the flower of the dying – , so much of the same happens to puppet theatre, that it’s pure poetry and its habitat is the universe, olé!
4- After forty years in your profession, what would you save from your beginnings? Which of these do you value most? Within the context of your long career, what are your actual and future artistic goals? Do you believe that a puppeteer grows with age and experience, and in what sense?
As you know, our friendship goes back to those times long ago, my beginnings were with the van and shows and of these I keep invaluable memories. I enjoyed myself and learned a lot. What remains most with me from this period is the contact with different audiences and the enthusiasm of the people in those sixties and seventies, when everything seemed possible to us. Those were ten years of learning, tough and nice. But all my professional life has been full of illusions, joys and friends, I don’t feel any nostalgia for one particular moment.
Presently, I’m into the project of setting up a new company and to go out again on the international circuit, from which I have distanced myself somewhat in the last years. I am preparing a spectacle, Zoé, about a brazilian girl who commits a terrible murder. It’s a spectacle with various puppet scenes and I like it because for many years I was involved in directing and painting and did not practise as performer. At the same time I’m preparing an installation with paintings and video screens as well as other upcoming projects. My projects always have long gestation periods and are overlapping each other.
About growing with age, I don’t know, what do you expect me to say? Of course, one gets old, That’s for sure, nothing can be done about that and on the way one learns things, true, but the value of experience is very relative. I don’t think that experience would be better than inexperience, which could be an instrument with great strength. Every moment in life has its angel, its magic, the flower as Zeami said, first because one has the power and then because one has more smartnesss, I do’nt know, once bitten, twice shy … What really interests is the process, the continuous development and refining the instruments. The best of having had a long trajectory is in looking back and being able to smile.
JOAN BAIXAS to TONI RUMBAU
1/ You have gone through almost all aspects of the profession: performing, writing, managing a theatre and a festival, entrepreneur, cultural activist, if you would have to choose, with what would you stay and why? And also, would you advise the youngsters to make sure that they get to know those different areas or do you think that specialization is better?
If I had to choose, without doubt performing, it is the best this profession has given to me. Acting as a puppeteer is an experience once tasted, you‘re hooked. I think for two reasons: the cleansing aspect which all performances with puppets have (split personality, plurality of the languages used, which go from the most immediate straightness to the most sophisticated reserve) and the fact of connecting with age-old practises which take “possession” of oneself though you don’t like it. This happened to me when by chance I began to participate in Portugal in the campaigns for cultural revival with the Portugese army, during the Revolution of Carnations.
Therefore, as one persists and feels obliged to be what is usually called a “professional”, one gets gradually caught into the clutches of the profession and, before you know, yound find yourself one day to be an entrepreneur, another day a “cultural activist”, then suddenly “director of a festival”, later on theatre director, and of course you write a big part of your works, some are even doing all and making everything, from the puppets to set design. I would even say that one of the characterictics of this profession is, especially at the start, that one does all, or better, “one dares to do all”, this is often perceived as its most worthy charms. Of course, in some cases it is, in others not. In this there is all the variety you want and the freedom of choice is, undoubtedly, the greatest. The career of a puppeteer varies between the soloist who is autonomous in everything – and who in some way, embodies some of the essentials of the earliest puppetry – and the one who sets up a more or less complex company. I have gone from one category to the other and the truth is that where the best things happened to me and where I found myself most at ease, was in my role as a soloist. In fact, these days I am getting involved in a new solo project. Although I must also to say that of the two operas I did, the experience and the memories I have from both are wonderfully positive. Regarding my experiences in management, I disliked it much, especially with regard to the dealings with government: pure hell and nightmare. The youngsters I’ll tell, that if they’re able to focus on creating, there is nothing better. I think that in these days the new generations of puppeteers know this quite well and are able to distinguish the essential from the superfluous, and look for appropiate support – good agents, technicians, actors etc. – when needed. Thereafter, as is well known, the turns of life will take them from one extreme to the other.
2/ In your book about professional memories you held back, with elegance and discretion, an anarchistic spirit of devastating conventions, but after reading it, I was left with wanting to learn more about this aspect of your thinking, would you mind telling more about it?
Well, yes, I see myself as someone they called in the past a “ drawing-room anarchist”, though later in life the “anarchism” I practised was not wrong, surely more driven by chance and necessity than by ideological conviction. It is a pity that anarchism has gone so in disuse an has such a bad press. And, nevertheless, I have a strong feeling that the present situation – the one trying to find ways of solution for the deluges of the crisis which has come upon us – is in many things resorting to a more remote anarchistic gold mine. Especially in fighting tooth and nail, as is done today, for personal independence or for “individual sovereignty”. I very much agree with these demands. It is just that the present and the future are full with contradictions, and together with the defense of the individual and his independence, today also the global perspective in resolving problems and conflicts is necessary.
In other words, independent individualism on one side, globalization of the problems and their solutions on the other side. The anarchism I would like to exist is the one which could accept these paradoxes and contradictions between global and local, the individual and the collective, respecting the extremes in their most resounding radicality.
Coming back to puppetry, I believe that the, let’s say “classical” or “romantic”, person of a puppeteer embodies in some form, par excellence, some anarchistic qualities: doing your own thing, do what you like, settling down wherever, live from what people give you directly, be independent in the set-up, organisation and execution of your work etc. Some puppeteers have even raised the anarchistic flag as a sign of identification – we have the clear example of Pepe Otal, almost a model example of “anarchistic puppeteer” to whom we have to add the bullfighting archetype of the “torero” for his special relation with this person of death, or for example Javier Villafañe, Paco Porras, and many others. In fact, when you hear some already somewhat older puppeteers say: “I’m going back to do shows, that’s what matters and is so good in this profession …” (you and me, for instance …), actually we’re expressing our love for this vital spirit and anarchism of puppetry.
And aren’t perhaps Pulcinella, Punch, Polichinelle, Karakoz …., some old anarchists, somewhat over the top and oldfashioned, the ones who fiercely defend the values of praising individual anarchism, whatever the cost? Undoubtedly they immediately get the favours of the audiences, projecting in them their dreams on what they could be and could do, like punching the actual bosses, as there were the sociological ones (policemen, bankers, rich kids, shopkeepers etc.) or the metaphysical ones (demons, monsters or death itself). Thus, characters embodying the anarchistic archetype, made en vogue in the Renaissance and in the urban cultures of modern age.
3/ One of the things which surprise me most in the art of puppetry, are the paradoxes one notes with only a little bit of careful analysis. Let’s look at some examples: puppetry has been popular entertainment in the course of centuries, but paradoxically it has at the same time given rise to very significant philosophical and speculative lterature. Another paradox: the most popular puppets in the past century have been the ones in feature films (Alien, King Kong, Star Wars), nut nobody, when speaking of puppetry, refers to these. And one more: puppetry is considered as a theatrical craft, but in all cultures where powerful examples of traditions in puppetry exist, in all times and in all continents, they made use of the technical refinements, the most sophisticated technologies in each culture, for their performances, from Chinese string-puppets to the cartoons from Antúnez, from Bunraku to mechanical puppets. What do think of all this?
I think that the paradoxes about which you speak in the beginning of your question (grandeur/misery, popular/cult, tradition/avant-garde …) are the most interesting qualities, on the sociological level as well as in symbolism and language, of the puppet-theatre. Going to a festival and able to see performances varying from the ancient shadows of Bali to the most daring and innovative experiments, it’s all first rate and a continuous lesson in modesty and openmindness. That’s why I believe, that festivals wanting to be modern and renounce traditions are mistaken – like what happened in Barcelona, where they so much wanted to modernize and sophisticate, that all vanished into thin air, and vice versa, of course.
What you say about the film characters is true, they are the most popular chracters of the 20th century, but I think that because of their identification with films, they loose part of their character in theatrical puppetry. This is like saying that the best music of the 20th century is film music, defended by many theorist, but then difficult to maintain when talking to musicians, programmers etc. The reality is that film and the whole image-industry have gobbled up many arts and visual specialties and put these to their use, that is, serving the cinematographic language which embraced them, whereas the theatrical quality, albeit with puppets or actors, is the live performance, which
has nothing to do with technical reproduction. You have to understand this distinction without any intentions of valuation (undoubtedly, film would “score better”), but as a simple technical differentiation, of language. That’s why only scholars refer to “film puppets”, whereas professionals mostly forget about these. But you’re right that “they exist”, of course.
4/ What could be the reason for us to continue regarding puppetry as a craft and that we generally perform our shows in restricted and minority circles?
I believe that considering puppetry as “craftmanship” is an old habit that sometimes leads to a fight, in distinguishing it from “Art” with a capital A. There are some who think the word is derogatory, but there are others praaising it. If we think of puppetry as theatre, applying the word “craftmanship” to it doesn’t stop it from being consistent as a defining specification, in the sense that “theatrical language” uses it for doing more with the hands than with the voice, or with both simultaneously, in a way that it gets to signify something like “theatre made with hands”. Moreover, today, the aspect of “craft” is highly appreciated in productions – in the sense that it’s done with ease and with an affectionate contribution of many hands. In the same sense, one could say that big-stage opera is in itself pure theatrical craftmanship, because the work involved in the sets and scenic decoration is tremendous.
And the same can be said of a puppetry performance: if it’s a complex one, it’s craftmanship because of its complexity, if it’s simple, in a popular style, it will be because of the characteristics in having done something fully with one’s hands and by oneself. In all cases, the word craftmanship describes it well and praises the values of what it defines. I like to use it, not too much though, as insisting much on it, is like relying on the semiotics of the language, with its directness. Let’s say that craftmanship was and is good, but less you see it, the better. Sometimes it’s important to reveal it. In others it’s better to hide it. In the end, every puppeteer uses his hands. And we could also speak of the “craftmanship of Picasso” in the creation of his paintings, or of Barceló modelling his painting mass. And I don’t believe they would feel insulted. And having come this far, we could well say that the main difference between Art and craftmanship is, apart from the purpose, is the price paid for it: much for the first, little for the second. A puppeteer who wants to be part of Art, will surely earn more than one who isn’t. Etcetera.
Of course, there’s sometimes a “craftmanship-complex” of the puppeteers, not having the nerve to fill big stages and attract big audiences. As if craftmanship would justify the small and, thus, for minorities. These complexes exist, it’s also said that in the theatre pyramid we occupy the lowest and marginal sector. Although, as you said yourself, there are positive values here, as it’s fantastic to be in “small letters”, looking for the informal and direct relation with the audience, coming down from the pedestals etc. In this I absolutely agree with you. Modesty doesn’t diminish significance, on the contrary, it should accentuate it, and in accordance with the law of paradox and contradiction, the smallest must strive for becoming the greatest. I believe that Puppet Theatre has this enormous potential in its innermost parts, a field still to be explored. I would put all emphasis in its qualities of Synthesis: the more synthetic and concentrated, the more universal and explosive. It’s like the atom: in the smallest space – a puppet, an atom, a tableau … -, an immense charge: the time-space of public attention is whirling around him and his “gravity” (ability to capture the spectators) goes off. Here is the secret of the puppet, this little actor – or great, but artificial, one – who, like brands, charge themselves with content and attributes. Something which happens with the simpliest puppet theatres and with the most avant garde ones. Puppets = Synthesis = Explosion.