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Old Man River
[Apologies for the length of this, but the story goes way back.]
The first time I saw a busker was in the streets of Ann Arbor, Michigan in 1972. I was working in a "Head Shop" when I noticed something/someone, bristling with energy, flash past the front window. Whoever he was, no one failed to notice him, for in his wake everyone was left convulsing with laughter, pointing, and poking some nearby stranger in the ribs, as people sometimes do when sharing a joke.
I dashed out into the street just in time to see a wildman in painted white face running toward someone who had not yet noticed him. He leapt into the arms of a stranger who reflexively caught him. Before the guy could drop him he took hold of both the guy's ears and kissed him on the lips.
Then he danced away, mimicking as he went, mischievously lifting women's skirts as he passed, sneaking a peek.
Even the victims couldn't help laughing at how audacious he was.
He had totally transformed the street in a matter of minutes. He had his crowd.
He did a 15 minute show and had a good hat. Then he disappeared.
A few hours later he wandered into the shop to buy some papers and some paraphernalia and I had my first conversation with Jango Edwards.
The second time I met him I told him that I wrote comedy scripts and he asked me to give him some to read. The third time I met him he invited me to come to London and work with his company of fools which was then known as "Friends Roadshow".
A few weeks later I arrived in London and Jango had enrolled me in classes at the Oval House. In those days you could join the club for 5 quid a year and take as many free classes as you wanted in improvisation, mime, juggling, acrobatics, magic, etc. Guest teachers for these free sessions included people like John Cleese and Spike Milligan (if there actually is anyone else like those two), though I missed both of those sessions because we were on tour.
I worked with Friends Roadshow off and on for the next 4 years, based in England first, then in Holland, then in America. I was the 7th member of the company, which also included Nola Rae, who may be known to some who read these messages.
Friends was never a fixed membership company. Over the years, hundreds of musicians and performers came and went.
During breaks from Friends:
I worked the streets of S.F. in 1974 in a small group called "The New Depression Follies" which included Geoff Hoyle. My contributions including diving head first off an upturned suitcase into a paper cup half filled with water sitting on the pavement, six times a day. I also did a fire-eating and blowing piece and premiered an act called "The World's Greatest One-Ball Juggler" which was one of my signature pieces for a number of years.
I stayed for awhile with one of the Bourbon Street Irregulars who, along with Ray Jason, fought all the way to the Supreme Court for the right to perform in the streets.
I didn't meet Ray until several years later, first in New Zealand when he visited during a world tour and later in S.F. where he was still performing in 1989.
Toad the Mime told me that S.F. wasn't big enough for both of us, a fact I mention only to note how territorial things were, even when there was plenty of room for everyone. Robert Shields still pretty much owned Union Square when he wasn't touring with his theatre show or making commercials.
Anyway, it hadn't been my intention to settle in S.F. I headed East to participate in the 1st International Mime Festival and Symposium in LaCrosse Wisconsin in the autumn of 1974. Great Festival.
After the festival I toured schools in North and South Dakota, Montana and Nebraska for 3 months. 154 60-minute shows in 11 weeks. My material was pretty tight after that.
I was the resident Fool in a rock club called the Primo Showbar in Ann Arbor for a few months before heading to New York to try the streets there in early 1975. For about three months in New York I would paint my face each morning and head out hunting for pitches. I was committed to silence, but equally committed to interacting with anyone who had a minute to play.
Most of the time was spent interacting and listening to people tell their life stories once they figured out that I was not going to interrupt them with any talk of my own.
I did a bit of busking in Washington Square and in Central Park. I worked the edge of a few events such as block parties and ethnic festivals. I tried working the movie queues, but I think everyone thought they might lose their place in line if they stopped staring at the back of the head of the person in front of them.
I walked everywhere and would usually get home well after midnight.
Back to Europe mid-summer to tour with Nola Rae and with an Australian mime/comic named Jean Paul Bell. We did Holland, Belgium and Germany, winning a best production award in Munich.
Then went solo, basing myself in Amsterdam, touring regularly to Germany and Denmark with briefer trips to Switzerland, France, and Italy.
Launched my first 90 minute solo show in Amsterdam at the Melkweg, in its early days as a multimedia dope club. Performed regularly at the Shaffey and occasionally at the Paridiso. Toured the dope clubs in Eindhoven, Groningen, Nijmegen, Rotterdam, etc., performing and running workshops.
Did a bit of busking on the Leidseplein and in Vondelpark.
Performed at the Festival of Fools in 1976.
Spent about 4 months in Vancouver and the American Northwest in early 1977, busking in Vancouver, and several of the nearby islands, in Olympia, in Portland, and even in Fresno.
My busking speech pleaded with people not to give me money because it would only corrupt me. I asked instead for something of value to both them and me, like a word of appreciation, or a poem, or something I could eat or drink, or smoke. I said they could also give me their names and addresses and note the time they eat, and note if they had a space where I could sleep.
I did 4 15-minute shows in the Portland Saturday Market and got 60 places to stay and more than 100 places to eat, along with things which could be smoked, and also about $150 wrapped up in the hand written notes.
I spent the next two weeks going door to door trying to find out what kind of people would actually put there name, address and phone number in a hat after a performance.
Cool people. All kinds of very different people.
Back to Europe for more touring, including the Festivals of Fools in Amsterdam in 1977 and annual tent festivals in Munich, a street theatre festival in Vienna where someone got a permit for me to perform on the steps of the Opera House.
Settled for awhile in Stockholm. Set up a Fools School there in 1977. Ran it for about 4 months and then departed. I think the school kept going under the direction of Ole Brekke.
Moved to New Zealand in 1980 after my first son was born. Chose it as a good place to raise kids.
Toured here regularly until 1985, then worked intermittently on special projects until a couple of years ago.
I was never a full time busker. It was one of the things I did. I have the greatest respect for those who do it full time. If that had been all that I had done I would never have survived, even if there were as many pitches and festivals back then as there are now.
Other activities included:
-Performance tours to theatres with 3 different 90 minute solo
comedy shows.
-Festival set up and management, including an 8 day intensive event
which is similar in philosophy to the Motion Fests now happening in
America. The event I created here ran once a year for 5 years in
Christchurch and then once in Surfer's Paradise.
-Residencies and workshops in prisons, drug addiction treatment
centres, psychiatric hospitals, and universities
-Education programs for at-risk adolescents
-Performance reviewer for the local paper (see the reviews pages
for a review of the Buskers Cabaret in Nelson as published in the
local paper Feb. 1).
My home in Nelson is always open to travelling buskers. If you want to check on the quality of the hospitality, contact Butterfly Man or Haggis for comments. The house is nothing special, but visitors may find the video collection interesting as it, like me, goes way back.
Nick Nickolas and Martin Ewan have also visited, along with a dozen or so others.
My best moment on stage arose out of my worst hour on stage. I was doing a show at a maximum security prison in Michigan. It wasn't working. I wasn't surprised that they showed no interest in mime; that's not uncommon. Nor was their lack of interest in juggling anything new. They couldn't hear any of my jokes because when they weren't busy coming and going from the room they were clustered in small groups, apparently discussing what each would do if he could get me alone in his cell for a few minutes.
There were pockets of laughter all over the room, but no one was laughing at anything I was saying or doing. They had their private jokes going on, most of which I believe included fantasies featuring me involved in things I would not likely have enjoyed.
I acknowledged that their jokes were probably funnier than mine and since I wasn't doing much for anyone, could they please speak up, because the show would not be a total loss if I could at least get one good laugh out of it, for myself, or for others present.
The whole time I was secretly thinking: "I'll get 'em with the fire. When I start rubbing the lighted torch against my body, when they smell the burning hair, they'll settle for a moment at least."
How naive of me.
I finally got to the torches. Nothing changed. No one was watching.
"At least", thought I, "this is the last bit in the show and I will be out of here soon, and they won't. 5 more minutes and I'm gone. I will have survived this and will be able to gradually forget that it ever happened."
While clinging to these thoughts of the nearness of my release date, I was simultaneously bringing the torch up over my backward tilted head, and preparing to put it into my mouth.
Finally, a voice rose from the crowd, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, summarising everything they had been talking about in their many huddles since I had first begun.
The leader of the pack shouted: "Hey! I've got somethin' you can stick in your mouth!"
Without an instant's hesitation, I turned to him and shouted back: "You set it on fire and I'll give it a go."
The laughter had still not subsided 20 minutes later when I finally got out of there.
River (a.k.a. Piro 1974-77, until the death of Piro)
Global Village Idiot
Fool at the Court of the Mad King Public
Whysman (One who may still not have the answers, but who has found some of the more interesting questions.)
Nelson
New Zealand
The first time I saw a busker was in the streets of Ann Arbor, Michigan in 1972. I was working in a "Head Shop" when I noticed something/someone, bristling with energy, flash past the front window. Whoever he was, no one failed to notice him, for in his wake everyone was left convulsing with laughter, pointing, and poking some nearby stranger in the ribs, as people sometimes do when sharing a joke.
I dashed out into the street just in time to see a wildman in painted white face running toward someone who had not yet noticed him. He leapt into the arms of a stranger who reflexively caught him. Before the guy could drop him he took hold of both the guy's ears and kissed him on the lips.
Then he danced away, mimicking as he went, mischievously lifting women's skirts as he passed, sneaking a peek.
Even the victims couldn't help laughing at how audacious he was.
He had totally transformed the street in a matter of minutes. He had his crowd.
He did a 15 minute show and had a good hat. Then he disappeared.
A few hours later he wandered into the shop to buy some papers and some paraphernalia and I had my first conversation with Jango Edwards.
The second time I met him I told him that I wrote comedy scripts and he asked me to give him some to read. The third time I met him he invited me to come to London and work with his company of fools which was then known as "Friends Roadshow".
A few weeks later I arrived in London and Jango had enrolled me in classes at the Oval House. In those days you could join the club for 5 quid a year and take as many free classes as you wanted in improvisation, mime, juggling, acrobatics, magic, etc. Guest teachers for these free sessions included people like John Cleese and Spike Milligan (if there actually is anyone else like those two), though I missed both of those sessions because we were on tour.
I worked with Friends Roadshow off and on for the next 4 years, based in England first, then in Holland, then in America. I was the 7th member of the company, which also included Nola Rae, who may be known to some who read these messages.
Friends was never a fixed membership company. Over the years, hundreds of musicians and performers came and went.
During breaks from Friends:
I worked the streets of S.F. in 1974 in a small group called "The New Depression Follies" which included Geoff Hoyle. My contributions including diving head first off an upturned suitcase into a paper cup half filled with water sitting on the pavement, six times a day. I also did a fire-eating and blowing piece and premiered an act called "The World's Greatest One-Ball Juggler" which was one of my signature pieces for a number of years.
I stayed for awhile with one of the Bourbon Street Irregulars who, along with Ray Jason, fought all the way to the Supreme Court for the right to perform in the streets.
I didn't meet Ray until several years later, first in New Zealand when he visited during a world tour and later in S.F. where he was still performing in 1989.
Toad the Mime told me that S.F. wasn't big enough for both of us, a fact I mention only to note how territorial things were, even when there was plenty of room for everyone. Robert Shields still pretty much owned Union Square when he wasn't touring with his theatre show or making commercials.
Anyway, it hadn't been my intention to settle in S.F. I headed East to participate in the 1st International Mime Festival and Symposium in LaCrosse Wisconsin in the autumn of 1974. Great Festival.
After the festival I toured schools in North and South Dakota, Montana and Nebraska for 3 months. 154 60-minute shows in 11 weeks. My material was pretty tight after that.
I was the resident Fool in a rock club called the Primo Showbar in Ann Arbor for a few months before heading to New York to try the streets there in early 1975. For about three months in New York I would paint my face each morning and head out hunting for pitches. I was committed to silence, but equally committed to interacting with anyone who had a minute to play.
Most of the time was spent interacting and listening to people tell their life stories once they figured out that I was not going to interrupt them with any talk of my own.
I did a bit of busking in Washington Square and in Central Park. I worked the edge of a few events such as block parties and ethnic festivals. I tried working the movie queues, but I think everyone thought they might lose their place in line if they stopped staring at the back of the head of the person in front of them.
I walked everywhere and would usually get home well after midnight.
Back to Europe mid-summer to tour with Nola Rae and with an Australian mime/comic named Jean Paul Bell. We did Holland, Belgium and Germany, winning a best production award in Munich.
Then went solo, basing myself in Amsterdam, touring regularly to Germany and Denmark with briefer trips to Switzerland, France, and Italy.
Launched my first 90 minute solo show in Amsterdam at the Melkweg, in its early days as a multimedia dope club. Performed regularly at the Shaffey and occasionally at the Paridiso. Toured the dope clubs in Eindhoven, Groningen, Nijmegen, Rotterdam, etc., performing and running workshops.
Did a bit of busking on the Leidseplein and in Vondelpark.
Performed at the Festival of Fools in 1976.
Spent about 4 months in Vancouver and the American Northwest in early 1977, busking in Vancouver, and several of the nearby islands, in Olympia, in Portland, and even in Fresno.
My busking speech pleaded with people not to give me money because it would only corrupt me. I asked instead for something of value to both them and me, like a word of appreciation, or a poem, or something I could eat or drink, or smoke. I said they could also give me their names and addresses and note the time they eat, and note if they had a space where I could sleep.
I did 4 15-minute shows in the Portland Saturday Market and got 60 places to stay and more than 100 places to eat, along with things which could be smoked, and also about $150 wrapped up in the hand written notes.
I spent the next two weeks going door to door trying to find out what kind of people would actually put there name, address and phone number in a hat after a performance.
Cool people. All kinds of very different people.
Back to Europe for more touring, including the Festivals of Fools in Amsterdam in 1977 and annual tent festivals in Munich, a street theatre festival in Vienna where someone got a permit for me to perform on the steps of the Opera House.
Settled for awhile in Stockholm. Set up a Fools School there in 1977. Ran it for about 4 months and then departed. I think the school kept going under the direction of Ole Brekke.
Moved to New Zealand in 1980 after my first son was born. Chose it as a good place to raise kids.
Toured here regularly until 1985, then worked intermittently on special projects until a couple of years ago.
I was never a full time busker. It was one of the things I did. I have the greatest respect for those who do it full time. If that had been all that I had done I would never have survived, even if there were as many pitches and festivals back then as there are now.
Other activities included:
-Performance tours to theatres with 3 different 90 minute solo
comedy shows.
-Festival set up and management, including an 8 day intensive event
which is similar in philosophy to the Motion Fests now happening in
America. The event I created here ran once a year for 5 years in
Christchurch and then once in Surfer's Paradise.
-Residencies and workshops in prisons, drug addiction treatment
centres, psychiatric hospitals, and universities
-Education programs for at-risk adolescents
-Performance reviewer for the local paper (see the reviews pages
for a review of the Buskers Cabaret in Nelson as published in the
local paper Feb. 1).
My home in Nelson is always open to travelling buskers. If you want to check on the quality of the hospitality, contact Butterfly Man or Haggis for comments. The house is nothing special, but visitors may find the video collection interesting as it, like me, goes way back.
Nick Nickolas and Martin Ewan have also visited, along with a dozen or so others.
My best moment on stage arose out of my worst hour on stage. I was doing a show at a maximum security prison in Michigan. It wasn't working. I wasn't surprised that they showed no interest in mime; that's not uncommon. Nor was their lack of interest in juggling anything new. They couldn't hear any of my jokes because when they weren't busy coming and going from the room they were clustered in small groups, apparently discussing what each would do if he could get me alone in his cell for a few minutes.
There were pockets of laughter all over the room, but no one was laughing at anything I was saying or doing. They had their private jokes going on, most of which I believe included fantasies featuring me involved in things I would not likely have enjoyed.
I acknowledged that their jokes were probably funnier than mine and since I wasn't doing much for anyone, could they please speak up, because the show would not be a total loss if I could at least get one good laugh out of it, for myself, or for others present.
The whole time I was secretly thinking: "I'll get 'em with the fire. When I start rubbing the lighted torch against my body, when they smell the burning hair, they'll settle for a moment at least."
How naive of me.
I finally got to the torches. Nothing changed. No one was watching.
"At least", thought I, "this is the last bit in the show and I will be out of here soon, and they won't. 5 more minutes and I'm gone. I will have survived this and will be able to gradually forget that it ever happened."
While clinging to these thoughts of the nearness of my release date, I was simultaneously bringing the torch up over my backward tilted head, and preparing to put it into my mouth.
Finally, a voice rose from the crowd, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear, summarising everything they had been talking about in their many huddles since I had first begun.
The leader of the pack shouted: "Hey! I've got somethin' you can stick in your mouth!"
Without an instant's hesitation, I turned to him and shouted back: "You set it on fire and I'll give it a go."
The laughter had still not subsided 20 minutes later when I finally got out of there.
River (a.k.a. Piro 1974-77, until the death of Piro)
Global Village Idiot
Fool at the Court of the Mad King Public
Whysman (One who may still not have the answers, but who has found some of the more interesting questions.)
Nelson
New Zealand
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