The Words

Now that the stage is ready for occupation, the long and short of the front panel has been solved, I am seriously beginning to think about script. And since I know nothing about script writing for a puppet play, I have to look to the experts for guidance.
A few years ago I took an introductory class in script writing, but for totally different reasons than writing words for Mariela Sinti. At the time I was experimenting with ways to make my memoir writing more realistic, more visual. The immediacy of a play requires action, reaction - interaction. Dialogue has to be crisp, voices varied, action meaningful. No fillers. Also, surroundings have to be described in short, precise directions for those who set the stage.
Starting to read an article in Puppetry International confirms some of my thoughts on writing for a puppet play. At first I see nothing that doesn't apply to good writing in general.
From Puppetry International page 29, Issue #27, Spring and Summer 2010. Article about Joe Cashore, edited by Andrew Periale:
Joe Cashore on script: "For each piece , I want to know what is the beginning, what is the middle and what is the end, so that the piece has a sense of completeness. After that it's like a short story, in that I'm trying to trim away everything that is non-essential, so that every gesture supports the main idea."
I have learned about trimming away in me memoirs workshops.
"When in doubt, leave it out." One of my instructor's main suggestions when critiquing my pieces.
But there is more in this Puppetry International article. There is something that makes me pay greater attention..
"What's really important is the relationship between movement and stillness."
Most of the time I am worried about movement. Mariela is one of the simplest marionettes. Six strings for manipulation of wooden arms, legs, body, and ball-shaped head. I have barely mastered the simplest gestures. Stillness seems a luxury. But Cashore is right, of course. Stillness is a necessity. I have to learn to place it in the right spot.
Then I pick up the most important sentence from this master of strings:
"At its best, the marionette can be like a mirror which allows us to see ourselves, and it's through the understanding of ourselves that real change takes place."
Cashore's way is not the only way to look at a puppet. In the same issue, in an interview with Karen Smith, Steven Ritz-Barr says on page 35:
"I don't really care about the puppet, if truth be told. I am not a purist puppeteer. I care about the story, and the total viewing impact of the artistic experience that is created by a talented team of artists."
In my amateur mind I have already made a decision. Cashore's words reflect best my own sense of connection between puppet and manipulator and therefore will have to play a big part in the way I write for Mariela Sinti.
Of course, I learn, while watching Cashore in action, that he uses no words at all. Music, a super-intricate network of wire and strings, the power of observation, and a most sensitive, soulful approach to daily activities make his characters come to life. He is designer, maker, manipulator, all in one. He is the consummate artist. My first hero among puppeteers.
But I don't have all that many years ahead of me to perfect the handling of thirty or forty-string marionettes. And not only is my time limited; my artistic insight is by far not as keen as Mr. Cashore's. I need words. Words to be spoken in order for Mariela's purpose in my life to be acknowledged. Maybe there needs to be dialogue. Maybe Dr. Carl Steinfeld, my imaginary shrink, will have to appear.
"I think I do," he says, "because, as much as you need me, Mariela needs me even more."
For more information on Puppetry International go to www.unima-usa.org