Yours, Mime and Ours

The Mal Fraser kids do “Luck Be A Lady Tonight”

Yo Zeities,

As y’all know I heart mime. I have been privileged in my job at Multimedia Dell’Arte to have quite a lot to do with the Spearwood Teatro Della Mimetica, as well as teaching mime and movement to the drama kids at Malcolm Fraser Senior High.

It has come to my attention that not everyone shares my love for the silent art. When the great Marcel Marceau rescued the art of mime and resurrected it for the 20th Century, he was doing the work of a Salk, a Magellan or an Aaron Sorkin.

If you see a little less of me blog-wise in early 2008, it’s because I’ll be writing a show for a friend’s fund raiser – THE NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND MIMES: An Evening of Tap, A Capella and the Mimetic Arts. I’ve already thought of an opening, an a capella rendition of Billy Joel’s WE DIDN’T START THE FIRE while the mime kids represent the peak events of the twentieth century and the tap kids dance through and around centre-stage representing the undulating infinite nature of time.

If you need reminding of that bold impressionistic history lesson from Joel’s 1989 “Storm Front” album – here it is:

Buddy Holly, “Ben-Hur”, space monkey, Mafia
hula hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no go

U2, Syngman Rhee, payola and Kennedy
Chubby Checker, “Psycho”, Belgians in the Congo

We didn’t start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world’s been turning
We didn’t start the fire
No we didn’t light it
But we tried to fight it

Whew? makes you just tired thinking about it, huh? And it wasn’t nice for him to refer to the great Yuri Gargarin and some kind of primate. The Russians were the first into space, Piano Man. Deal with it!

I think what I love about mime is the simple truth that can be encapsulated in a single, over-acted gesture. And truth like a really good quality bread, must be consumed once you have discovered it. Truth must be your ciabatta loaf, a fresh baguette, the croutons sprinkled on the consomme of mediocrity.

You KNOW what I’m sayin’.

Dig You Later,

Mr Triv.

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