So many Poppy-goers praised our shadow play-within-the-play! Herewith, an encore. [Video: Diane Cheklich. Actors: Brooklyn Dimitrie, Vanessa Ellen Hentschel, Annabelle Young.]

Under the Poppy at the Detroit Institute of Arts: “Puppets & Passion.”

Weeks of work, of rehearsal in the chilly confines of the Russell, of patient professional struggle; gestures, vignettes, what it means to be a puppet, who the MC is, or might be. The contemplation of memory. The physical cost of desire.

For isn’t love the great performance, always with a hero – or two – and an untouched maiden, a dastardly villain, and a chorus of pretty voices in the darkness . . . Oh, and a puppet. More than one, in fact.  Do you like puppets, ladies and gentlemen?  Be assured that they like you.

Larry Baranski, director of public programs and puppet curator, and colleague Carrie Morris invited and made us welcome; the support AV staff was spot-on. And what a beautiful playing space, the Danto Lecture Hall: gold leaf, lights to sink or glow, its doors faced by the cases holding some of the canny citizens of the Paul McPharlin collection; our patron saints. Surrounding us, as we construct our own, art made throughout the years and centuries.

Yet the human heart’s a fugitive[.]

The smell of hairspray in the dressing room. Two actors, waltzing and laughing on the empty stage. The precarious poles, meant to hold a most peculiar shadow show, a splash of unreal blood. Video projections as charged and passionate as memory; music eerie, comic, tender; masks, many masks, one passed from hand to hand, soft and red and gleaming. A plague mask. A long black cloak.

A puppet’s as wily and indestructible as the heart itself: knock it down, tear it to pieces, hurl it at idiots – and back it comes, refreshed and ready for more abuse.

Ebullient harp music in Rivera Court, and floozies on the marble stairs, inviting one and all down to the brothel. Standing room only; we had to turn away, alas, even more floozy fanciers.

“Loved it! I saw so much wonderfully Victorian-flavored, but innovative staging.”

“Brava and thanks for creating such a visually and conceptually rich piece of theatre for us to enjoy. We were blown away.”

“More please!”

Graphic designer Jackie Zimmerman conjured our delightful playbill, highlighting the cast: Brooklyn Dimitrie, Vanessa Ellen Hentschel, Mona Lucius, Steven O’Brien, Justino Solis, Annabelle Young; the puppet player and creator, Megan Harris; maestro Joe Stacey; filmmaker Diane Cheklich; stage manager and co-producer Julanne Jacobs; and me. We are very pleased to have pleased you, and will work to do so again, in Detroit and elsewhere.

All the world loves a lover.  And the hot  magic of make-believe. We shall hope to see you Under the Poppy sometime very soon!

[All photos courtesy Rick Lieder. Quotes in bold italics from the script "Puppets of Passion" by Kathe Koja.]

The Independent considers the book trailer and its uses, and suggests that a viable composition of same should include the author as a presence that readers want to get to know. Well, that’s one choice. Or you can introduce the book you want readers to enjoy.

GalleyCat said that our trailer had “certainly one of the most striking visual aesthetics of any promotional video I’ve seen for a book in a while” which was true to the spirit and flair of the novel, as well as very enjoyable all on its cheeky own.

And two of the creators of the trailer, filmmaker Diane Cheklich and composer/musician Joe Stacey, are part of the creative force behind the Under the Poppy show at the DIA. So the play continues. Viva the shadows!

We are almost ready.

What you’ll see, when you take your seats, is an amalgam of a thousand – who knows how many thousands! – of thoughts, decisions, inspirations, frustrations, and happy accidents on the part of those gathered Under the Poppy: the actors, the puppet creator, the creators of music and moving images, the producers, the writer – offered with a wink and a veiled smile.

And the venue itself, this lovely lecture hall in the halls of the Detroit Institute of Arts, is an offering, too, of hush and bustle, velvet and gold leaf, itself one part of a beautiful aggregate through the centuries – centuries! – of people, artists, making just these kinds of decisions, led by these kinds of inspirations, subject to these frustrations, carried on and out at last into art. We hope the art we make will please you, and linger in the halls of your memory. We’re very pleased by the chance to make it together.

(Almost all of) the cast of “Puppets and Passion” had a viewing at the Detroit Film Theater  (thank you, Larry Baranski!) of “Puppet,” a film exploring Dan Hurlin’s collaborative creation of a puppet production called “Disfarmer,” its genesis, its struggles and pleasures, its opening night at St. Ann’s Warehouse … and its unflattering review from the New York Times.

We watch the artists assemble and work together, we see the show blossom, we hear brief remarks on money (not enough) and time (they are all deeply, almost numbingly overworked). We see the Times review, and its effect on the artists – a bad review means the show will suffer monetarily, perhaps close, as Hurlin’s “Hiroshima Maidens” did after a previous sniff from the Times.

So, with all of this considered, with our own days and nights and weeks of Poppy-work, of rehearsal, cold floors, particulate matter, wine and granola bars, not enough money, never enough time, what’s a creator to do?

Work. Do your work, puppeteers, actors, artists, musicians, writers, directors, creative producers, all of the myriad swimmers in the creative sea. Do it as hard as you can for as long as you can. Nothing has the power to stop it but you.

Who makes the masks you wear each day? How comfortable are you when you take them off?  Do you ever take them off, all of them, down to the naked skin?… Questions that occur to me as I admire the masks created by Megan Harris for our performance.  If you wear one to that performance, will we know?

[Brooklyn Dimitrie and Vanessa Ellen Hentschel, photographed by Diane Cheklich.]

The beauty in the mask seems less than thrilled by the gentleman of shadow, with his oh-so-real cigar … Are shadows real – shadows of old passion, shadows of the past? Real enough to touch? Real enough to hurt?

Shadow puppetry is one of the aspects of desire and control that we intend to explore in “Puppets and Passion” at the DIA. Bring your shadow.

[Photo of Brooklyn Dimitrie and Vanessa Hentschel courtesy Diane Cheklich.]

Here we see a mask, created by the talented Megan Harris (who has created all the masks for our upcoming “Puppets and Passion” show), sitting quiescent on a very old head form.

The mask, too, looks quiescent; but don’t be fooled, already we’ve seen it deployed in rehearsal, and the eyes behind it, and what it cloaks is a desire not easily expressed. If you find yourself at the “P&P” show, you’ll see it, too.

And it will see you.