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TOP STORY

THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD

Continued from Page 1

ivingson Kint, Sidney's San-

ta Claus, isn’t making mil-

lions from his profession.

Still, as a puppeteer, he
keeps himself in bagels and Lone Star
beer and supplies his cat, Figero,
with 9 Lives tuna and liver.

An advocate of non-violent enter-
tainment for children, Kint makes
marionettes to show in pre-schools
and daycares: he never refuses to
perform, he says, although he is
grateful when show organizers are
able to pay a $20-$50 fee.

“Often, when I’ve finished a per-
formance, children come up to me and
say ‘you really are Santa Claus, aren’t
you?’ I just nod and wink, as though
it’s a secret,” he says. “Besides, I am.”

To supplement his puppeteering
career — a career which includes
street shows — Kint plays Santa
Claus at the Harbour Square Mall
each Christmas. But the charm of
Kint’s answer and, perhaps, of his
ability to relate to kids, is that he
believes himself.

“Santa is real,” he says. His dark
blue eyes are serious. “I like to think
that’s what Jesus went on to do when
he left us. I don’t mean the material-
istic things, but his spirit.”

An idealist who lives in his catam-
aran, Jonathon Livingston Seagull,
Kint wants to sail the world, using
puppets to dispense enchantment to
children. He and his boat, dubbed the
Rainbow Theatre, left Lund (above
Powell River) in 1980 and have enter-
tained hundreds of kids in the Van-

couver and Gulf Islands.

If Kint’s journey hasn't taken him
far, it’s because he’s constantly find-
ing new ways to express his personal-

‘ity, his concern. Since leaving Lund,

he has occupied himself with several
projects, including an autobiography
and designing trick marionettes.
(They juggle, ride bikes, bounce balls,
and perform other amazing feats.)
Although he collects news clippings
showing the correlation between TV
viewing, violence and lack of creativi-
ty, he found a group of “angels”to
produce his video, The Marionette
Circus, and sees no conflict between
his video and his stated opposition to
modern forms of children’s entertain-
ment.

“My work tries to put imagination
back into things,”he says.“Special ef-
fects and such nonsense is someone
telling you what’s there, what to
think. It’s cutting the imagination out
of kids. And much of it covers up
violence with humor, giving the idea
that might is right so long as its
funny.”

Wanting to teach wholesome tales
to children, Kint says his goal is to
replace the nastiness rampant in en-
tertainment and, ultimately, to give
modern youth a better mind-set.

“Money hasn’t been a reason for
anything I’ve done,” he says, shaking
his white-grey head.

As he searches for another angel,
this time to produce a video tape
adaptation of L. Frank Baum’s Moth-
er Goose, Kint doesn’t bother looking
for a measuring stick by which to
judge his success. The $5,000 produc-
tion costs for Marionette Circus have
been recovered (each tape retails for
approximately $16) but, so far as he’s
concerned, the business of childrens’
entertainment is how to best further

an ideal. Business has little to do with
it.

Livingson Kint, however, is far
away from even the fringes of well-
known local performers.

The Great Donaldi, for example,
has turned his magician’s tricks from
a “hobby that paid for itself’ into a
business accounting for between 50
and 75 per cent of his livelihood. The
22-year old magician, born as Donald
Dunphy, quit his Camosun College
early childhood education studies to
pursue his career as a family enter-
tainer; in 1988, he did 75 shows but,
last year, filled an appointment
schedule with 187 bookings.

Dunphy isn’t getting rich from his
devotion to magic — his living is

When he thought that his cape and
top hat might be too gimmicky, might
detract from his ability to win over
the adults in a family audience, he
began wearing business-style suits.
He plans ways to get kids to remem-
ber him (and request his show for
their birthday party): comedy magic,
he says, is the best trick for a magi-
cian to use when trying to please a
young crowd. Deliberately, knowing
that kids are like elephants and “nev-
er forget,” he spends most of his
profits on new tricks so that kids who
have seen him once (or twice) aren't
bored when they see him again.

And he travels the width and
breadth of the Island, making sure
that his name is in front of kids, in

partly derived from his job at a local
rec centre’s daycamp — but he admits
that, increasingly, his attentions are
turned towards marketing his enter-
tainment.

IF YOU’RE HAPPY AND YOU KNOW
IT you've probably seen these
men. Each has dedicated himself
to children’s entertaining. Clock-
wise from top: Major Conrad
Flapps, Livingson Kint, Kernel Pop-
corm, and Paul Hann.

front of parents, in front of people
who organize school performances
and birthday parties.

“I like it,” says the self-professed
shy man. “I like the first bit of
laughter that makes the show.”

To earn that laughter, Dunphy (like
most children’s performers) encourag-
es audience participation. A clapo-
meter gets the applause going at the
start of the show and requests for
assistants from the crowd break down
any barriers between the stage and

the stands.

“They remember what I teach
them,” he glows, recalling a trick with
a newspaper cone. After watching
Donaldi pour milk into a paper cone
and turn the milk into ice cream, a
young boy ignored his mother’s pro-
tests and tried to duplicate the stunt
at home.

Like Kint, Dunphy believes that
television and some of its messages —
violence as a solution to problems, for
example — are poor substitutes for
the benefits of live performance. His
brand of entertainment, he says, pro-
vides children with a tangible and
memorable event and encourages
participation and imagination.

“There’s so much technology
around, it’s hard to believe that magic
fools people these days,” he says. “But
it’s nice to puzzle kids for a minute, to
get their minds working.”

Scott Hopkins, alias Kernel Pop- |
corn, agrees that live entertainment
is crucial to the development of young
imaginations. But he’s not as purita-
nical about distracting kids from the
less-wholesome, more commercial,
aspects of modern life.

The magician, famous for his pop-
corn covered hat, ring, watch, and
bow-tie, says performers should use
whatever children will relate to. He
believes that Ninja Turtles and simi-
lar commercial characters dominate
childrens’ consciousness and are valid
tools in the magic trade.

“T use them in illusions — it’s a
highly commercialized world out
there, and I don’t find fault with
using that to get live performance
into the world. Especially if I can put
a bit of a smile on the face, or a laugh
in the heart, of a child.”

While bringing sunshine into kids’
lives is a noble cause, there has to be
some marketing with the magic.
While Dunphy aims his sales pitch
towards the adults in the family,
Hopkins’ marketing strategy is to win
the children over to his side.

“If a birthday kid doesn’t want to go
Mcdonald’s but wants Kernel Popcorn
instead, they don’t get McDonalds.
They get me,” he laughs.
Hopkins, who also has a day job,
passes out at least one business card
each day and insists that Kernel
Popcorn is not a man but a product.

“Getting him onto television is the
main goal,” he says candidly. “To
make it in the business, you need
exposure.” :
Stewart Nemtin, or Major Conrad
Flapps, would sagely nod his clown-
head at the assessment. His career
took off after he was “showcased” at a
Vancouver trade show: his 10 minute
act impressed industry moguls and,

t| eventually, led to TV spots. Now,

travelling an average of 10 days per
month, averaging $200 a show, Nem-
tin’s clown persona feeds his family.

Much of his success is due to chil-
dren’s festivals, such as the Winnipeg
Festival he attended last week. With
55,000 children visiting the week-
long performing arts event, Nemtin
knows he’ll be seen. And being seen
improves his chances of capturing the
huge school market — as he says, the
work spirals.

But Nemtin’s career, which is
quickly taking him to the big-time of
the children’s entertainment indus-
try, is more than just a pay-cheque.

Continued on Page 5