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Poetics andkultura: A study of contemporary Slovene and Croat puppetry

Latchis-Silverthorne, Eugenie T., Ph.D.

The American University, 1991

Copyright ©1991 by Latchis-Silverthome, Eugenie T. All rights reserved.

UMI 300 N. Zeeb Rd. Ann Arbor, MI 48106

POETICS AND KULTURA: A STUDY OF CONTEMPORARY

SLOVENE AND CROAT PUPPETRY

by

Eugenie Latchis-Silverthome

submitted to the

Faculty of the College of Arts and Sciences

of The American University

in Partial Fulfillment of

the Requirements for the Degree

of

Doctor of Philosophy

in

Anthropology

Signatures of Committee:

Chair:

1 Dean of •the College of

Jki______Date

1990 The American University Washington, D.C. 20016 1154

TEE MÊRICAN UHIVERSITY LIBRARY © COPYRIGHT

by

Eugenie Latchis-Silverthome

1991

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED POETICS AND KULTURA: A STUDY OF CONTEMPORARY

SLOVENE AND CROAT PUPPETRY

BY

Eugenie Latchis-Silverthome

ABSTRACT

By placing both their professional and amateur theaters in the context of the broader cultural arena, this study investigates the scope and significance of contemporary

Slovene and Croat puppetry. It examines the intersection of a once marginal art with both official cultural policy and parallel social movement. At the core of my analysis is

the belief that Slovene and Croat puppetry serves a dual role: as cultural communicator

and social commentator. Through textual analysis, interviews, and observation of performance and festival activity, I focused on the central aesthetic, social, stmctural, and ritual properties which inform Yugoslav puppet theater. I propose that these properties cut across the continuum of Slovene and Croat societies, and that, far from existing in a vacuum, puppetry has become an integral part of contemporary culture. Slovene and

Croat puppetry function on numerous levels at once: they reflect basic cultural ideals and values, they serve as ethnic markers, they manifest state policy, and they provide a vehicle for artistic irmovation and social action. Finally, because of the meaning of its symbolism and its own use as a cultural symbol, puppetry provides insight into the fundamental dynamics of cultural tradition and change.

rr ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I must especially thank those individuals who supported this dissertation through their comments, time, and encouragement. Many of them participated in the project since its inception while others became involved during subsequent stages; I am grateful to each of them.

Dr. Ruth Landman, Chair of my Dissertation Committee, was always available for insightful commentary and criticism, and I shall always value her expertise, guidance, and sense of perspective. Two former members of my committee. Dr. Brett Williams and

Dr. Jo Radnor, were each extremely helpful in the formation of my proposal and research plans. Dr. Linda A. Bennett and Dr. Lazio Kurti kindly served as advisors during the later stages of my writing and both provided important contributions to the final draft. Dr. William Leap, Dr. Dolores Koenig, Dr. James Bodine, and members of the Dissertation Seminar were all supportive in ways which count.

I am grateful to The American University and The Wenner-Gren Foundation which provided the Fellowships and funding for my field research.

Without the generosity of my hosts and associates in Yugoslavia, I would never have enjoyed such a rewarding field experience. At IKS, Spomenka Stimec first warmly welcomed me, immediately introducing me to her colleagues, and I am very grateful to

Livia Krofiin of PIF for her observations, her insight based on earlier study, and her friendship over the course of my fieldwork. Biba Ro2ié provided me with the best

111 hospitality and good cheer time and again. I am also appreciative of the special efforts of Drago Putnikovié, Vanda Sestak, Savka PeriCié, Dolores, and Sonja Horvat.

I applaud all of the ZKL puppeteers for entertaining and informing me so well.

The list there is long but I especially thank Edita, Andrea, Dedo, Duro, Ljiljana, SaSa,

Ivica, and Mario for their good-natured assistance and patience with all my questions.

Of course, my research at the ZKL would not have been possible without the enthusiastic backing of Cornelia Covié.

The list in Slovenia is equally long, but I would first like to thank Ignacije Sunce,

Matjai Loboda, Alenka Pirjevec, and Dora Gobec for their special assistance. I am extremely fortunate for the friendship of these fine artists, Jelena Sitar and Igor Cvetto,

Tine and Breda Varl, and Maja and Branje Solce, along with Nika and Matjai. I am especially indebted to Edi Majaron and Agata Freyer for their gracious hospitality.

Rada Carmichael provided the best grammar instruction and cultural tips right until the childbirth of her son. Leah Platt-Praeger was most helpful with Slovene texts and translations, and I very much appreciate the kind efforts of Allelu Kurten of UNIMA.

Suzie Morgan worked especially diligently to make this manuscript presentable in record time and I thank her for her patience.

Finally, my own family was truly splendid. My mother and sister, Joan, provided invaluable support, and Robby, Alexandra, and Jonathan, who keep life from being dull, cheered me on throughout.

IV TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT ...... ii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ...... iü

Chapter

I. INTRODUCTION...... 1

n. THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CONTRIBUTIONS OF ANTHROPOLOGICAL STUDY ...... 8

Introduction ...... 8 Theoretical Framework...... 9 Summary ...... 29

m. FIELD RESEARCH AND METHODS OF DEVELOPMENT 31

IV. MAJOR SOCIAL AND HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENTS SHAPING SLOVENE AND CROAT CULTURAL ACTIVITY ...... 42

Introduction ...... 42 Early Slovene and Croat Cultural Development ...... 44 Foreign Colonization...... 48 Seeds of Nationalism...... 55 Development of a Yugoslav State ...... 59 Summary ...... 68

V. THE DEVELOPMENT OF SLOVENE PUPPET THEATER 70

Introduction ...... 70 European Puppet Tradition and Its Yugoslav Legacy ...... 74 Early Slovene Puppets and Folk Traditions ...... 81 The Making of Modem Slovene Puppetry...... 82 Artist as Cultural Broker...... 84 Amateur Puppetry as Community Activity ...... 112 The Development of Slovene Puppet Texts ...... 126 The Educational Factor and Slovene Puppetry ...... 131 Slovene Ethos and Puppetry ...... 134 Conclusion ...... 139 VI. PUPPETRY AS A STATE INSTITUTION: THE CASE OF ZAGREBACKO KAZALISTE LUTAKA (1948 - 1988)...... 141

Introduction ...... 141 Socialist Policy and the Arts ...... 142 The Zagrebaôko KazaliSte L u ta k a ...... 150 Early Puppetry in Zagreb ...... 151 Contemporary Puppetry at the ZKL ...... 159 The ZKL At W o rk...... 167 The B udget ...... 181 A Day at the ZKL ...... 183 Conclusion ...... 184

vn. FORM AND DESIGN IN SLOVENE AND CROATIAN PUPPETRY TODAY ...... 191

Introduction ...... 191 Typology of Puppet Plays ...... 193 Moral Fables ...... 194 Tales of Adventure ...... 214 Tales of Adventure: Folk Stories ...... 222 Experimental Puppetry ...... 228 Conclusion ...... 231

Vm. CONCLUSIONS ON FORM, PROCESS, AND RITU A L ...... 234

Introduction ...... 234 Cultural Values and Ritual in Performance ...... 236 Festival Activity ...... 245 Final Assessments and Projections...... 254

GLOSSARY OF YUGOSLAV PUPPET PLAYS...... 264

REFERENCES CITED ...... 268

VI CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

(TAP TAP TAP: A small creature emerges from an egg) Narrator (Ivica): "Franjo, chicken, my little one!" Orel: "I’m not your chicken Tranjo’." Narrator: "‘Not your chicken’ll You are Franjo and a hen and..." Orel: "I am Ivica." Narrator: (uncontrollably) "Ha Ha Hal She says she’s Ivica... I am Ivica. Yes, listen,... you are Franjo, a chicken..." Orel: "I -- am - Ivica." Narrator: "You - are - Franjo." Orel: "IVICAl" Narrator: "FRANJOl" Orel: "I am IVICAl 11" (regally) I am an eagle, a prince..." Narrator: "Ho ho ho. A prince, from an eggl Well... can you beat that?"

There is sense in this nonsense and seriousness within its play. "Jaje" ("The

Egg"), a puppet fable about the self-awakening of an ordinary creature, an unassuming everyman, is more than a casual conversation: it is part ritual quest, part metaphysical inquiry. What enables simple puppet plays like "Jaje" or other folk comedies, adventures, and satires which comprise contemporary Yugoslav puppetry to assume such proportions? More to the point, what do they reveal about social mores, behavior, and identity? On another level, how do they help explain Yugoslav cultural policy and define certain institutions implementing it?

My study investigates the central aesthetic, political, and ritual properties which are the source of contemporary Yugoslav puppetry. It assesses how these properties are representative of the nucleus of Yugoslav culture and how, therefore, in design, performance, and organization, puppetry is fundamentally

1 2

symbolic activity. Each performance provides social entertainment and introduces

small children to the theater, but on a deeper level it crystallizes cultural ideals,

practices, and structures. The puppetry I observed embodies the same quality and

scope that Falassi ascribes to festivals:

Both the social functions and the symbolic meaning of the festivals are closely related to a series of overt values that the community recognizes as essential to its ideology and worldview, to its social identity, its historic continuity, and to its physical survival, which is ultimately what festivals celebrate (1987:2).

Initially I had intended to examine the interplay of tradition and change within puppet theater by focusing on the role of folk art in a rapidly industrializing, socialist state. From the onset, I had decided to shape my study around several cleas concerns. Foremost among them had been to merge my previous experience, teaching modern European and Russian literature and drama, with the issues I had concentrated on during my graduate study in anthropology: the process of ritual, how symbols work, and folklore among ethnic groups today. I also sought a topic that my two young children could be a part of, knowing that their interest would make transition to a new culture smoother and that through them different dimensions of culture come to light. Finally, from independent study, it was apparent that folk drama, and puppetry in particular, was being overlooked by anthropologists at present. When I contacted UNIMA, the international puppetry organization, I received both an overview of the

Yugoslav puppet theater system and an entrée into its puppet network. Two questions first served as my base of inquiry: which folk motifs and forms remained relevant to contemporary audiences and, secondly, why was puppetry so actively cultivated on two fronts, by amateurs and professionals both? I was advised that Yugoslav puppetry was in the midst of a "renaissance" and I set out 3

to investigate why and to what purpose today.

My analysis investigates both issues but with a different thrust. As I

attended performances and met with puppeteers, it became clear that puppetry

combined various folk elements rather than adhered to any set folk patterns, and

moreover, that it held deeper meaning as art, as communication, and as ritual

than I had first anticipated. Fieldwork carried out between 1986 and 1988

revealed that puppetry was not only rooted in mixed tradition and that it indicated

social change, but that it was maintained and recharmeled back into society

because of its symbolic potency. I discovered that in Slovenia and Croatia

puppetry operates as many different symbols at once, and this analysis traces their

individual meanings, dimensions, and functions. It is this multiplicity which

generates the unusual scope of its activity and, hence, its renaissance today.

Two studies which shed light on puppetry’s role in the cultural process were

conducted by Becker (1983) and Danforth (1983). Becker’s analysis of design,

movement, and speech, in particular, is noteworthy for its penetration of the

symbolic layers of Javanese shadow theater and their correspondence to specific

social and moral values. Danforth, focusing on characterization and dramatic action, examined changes in Greek Karaghozis theater and how they paralleled social and political changes in the century following Greek independence from the

Turks. Yet, aside from these two works, contemporary anthropologists tend to overlook puppet play, concentrating instead on the study of masks and primitive puppet figures. In part, this oversight has something to do with puppetry’s own slippery character. It is hard to identify because it is neither fish nor fowl, neither folk drama nor classical art. It is also associated with children’s activity or with 4 itinerant players and thus not as altogether lasting or serious. When examined as folklore, it has been criticized for its topicality; when it develops a tradition, such as Punch and Judy, it is stigmatized as popular art. In such cases, critics have tended to stick to textual analyses (see Green 1981).

In analyzing puppetry’s significance and how it is an extension of the dynamics at work within a larger cultural frame, I focused on the puppets and plays themselves, on the social actors and agents creating them, on the institutions organizing and channeling their production, and on the cultural arena promoting such range of activity. Through these key components rather than through analysis of the texts alone, I began to see how puppetry was also a symbol in its own right, one which held separate meaning for Slovene and Croat performers and cultural activists. As such, it is today sustaining a longer artistic heritage: ethnic poetry served as a nineteenth century symbol with separate meaning for young Slovene, Serb, and Croat nationalists (Lord 1963); early in the twentieth century, the arts represented the conscious aligrunent of Slovene intellectuals with

Western culture and political order; and, at the beginning of statehood, artists sought to adopt a "national" hero or style which de-emphasized ethnic character

(Jelavich and Jelavich 1965; Verdel 1987; Zaninovich 1968).

Furthermore, it became equally clear that one site was insufficient for the questions about community, art, and politics I was posing. I saw how puppetry both exposes very basic stylistic, organizational, and symbolic differences among

Yugoslav regional and ethnic groups and, at the same time, stimulates increasingly vital interaction between Slovene and Croat performers especially. Consequently

I selected two principal sites, Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, and Ljubljana, the 5 capital city of neighboring Slovenia. Chapter IV addresses both their shared or overlapping cultural heritages (of, for example, religion. Western social institutions, and economic base) and the significant differences of language, custom, and worldview which clearly distinguish the two. Dominant parallels and tensions between them frequently surface in their puppetry.

Zagreb and Ljubljana are in many respects cultural counterparts, each with extensive traditions as urban and intellectual centers. In fairly concentrated areas, both generate a variety of artistic activity, including film, music, painting, theater, and animation productions. Moreover, within their puppetry I found a suitable range of amateur players, including architects, chemists, and blue collar workers, and the two pillars of organized puppetry, the state theaters of Zagreb and

Ljubljana.

These two are the largest and most venerable puppet institutions out of the chain of sixteen theaters spread throughout Yugoslavia. Created in 1948 along with the Belgrade puppet theater, they chart much of the course of overall

Yugoslav socialist cultural policy from its inception. They embody and sustain

Tito’s promotion of youth and democratization of the arts and eduction:

However imperfect Tito’s socialism has been, one of its great accomplishments has been the introduction of what for want of a better term can be described as modern spirit. Deeply conscious about their country’s backwardness, the Communists impressed upon themselves and others the absolute necessity of raising the cultural level of the population. The key word was kultura... (Doder 1978:196).

Chapter V traces Slovene puppetry from its early twentieth century roots to the development of its amateur network and the initiation of the theaters in

Ljubljana and Maribor. It explains how Slovenes have, through interweaving amateur and professional activity, consistently worked to refine and promote their 6

puppetry. Its corollary, Chapter VI, focuses on the institutionalization of one state

company, the Zagreb Puppet Theater, by examining its personnel, organizational

framework, and inner mechanisms which control and distribute its productions.

After puppetry’s social, educational, and ideological context is established.

Chapter VII analyzes its aesthetic codes and designs through the major forms and

performances of classic and contemporary puppetry. Chapter VIII draws further

conclusions about the ritual properties of Slovene and Croat puppetry and

assesses how in form, theme, and symbol they are now acquiring new impetus and

direction.

In the past year or two, moreover, the terms "Slovene," "Croat," and

"Yugoslav" have taken on additional, political edge. In this study, I have worked to remain faithful to the original intent of my sources even when there is inconsistency in their own nuances and emphases. The recent economic and political events which are sharpening these terms are also threatening cultural institutions such as puppet theater. In 1984, inflation had risen to 60% annually

(Djordjevic 1985:389), in 1988, to 200% and, by 1989, it had soared to 2500%

(Pipa 1989: 196). The Zagreb state theater, not quite midway through the 1988-

1989 season during my last visit, had simply run out of money, completing only two of their four scheduled productions.

The escalating economic crisis and recent political landmarks, such as the multi-party elections last summer in 1990 in Croatia and Slovenia (the first in over forty years) or the presence of Serbian troops on the streets o^ Ljubljana, were not foreseen in 1987. What was evident, though, was that a new mood was altering puppetry and that it held political as well as artistic meaning. 7

Dissatisfaction with the present system surfaced across the board - in design, in

the emergence of freelancers, in a frenzy international festival activity, and in the

atmosphere behind the scenes. As one performer put it:

But everyone has salary fixed. What’s a problem is we have to work eight to two and if an actor has no performance he must come in and be paid anyway... I think we are now in a situation with culture and everyone is concerned. And government is in situation too. But in culture it’s very dangerous because it is the very culture of socialism. One hundred clever people: one hundred clever opinions and a big problem of democracy: I think this kind of working in institution system is the worse (Professional Croat puppeteer).

Yet, this same performer and his colleagues will readily acknowledge that

their (albeit modest) salary is assured and that puppetry has developed an identity

and an audience. There is certain irony in the fact that as they are gaining

recognition from peers abroad for their art, the puppeteers find less and less

rationality in the institution which created both. At present, the paradoxes in the

relationship between puppet theater and society remain and the direction of puppetry stands uncertain. By ascertaining the meaning of the practice and value

of puppetry in Slovenia and Croatia, we are in a better position to perceive how

and with what significance culture is approached and charmeled. CHAPTER n

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK AND CONTRIBUTIONS OF

ANTHROPOLOGICAL STUDY

Introduction

Earlier I identified contemporary Yugoslav puppetry’s twin force as communicator and commentator and described my study as an analysis of their scope in Slovenia and Croatia and of their complex relationship to Slovene and

Croat cultures. By identifying the key properties of design, organization, and performance, puppetry’s multiple roles, as ethnic marker, as social critic, as community ritual, come to light. Through them, it is possible to ascertain the meaning of its internal symbols and to investigate how puppetry is itself being projected as a cultural symbol.

Clearly, each play, even each performance, varies in intensity and quality.

Yet my research points out how the puppetry of Croatia and Slovenia is more than entertainment. It is informed with moral purpose, it expresses aesthetic and ideological values, and it supports social cohesion as well as it provides socialization for young citizens. Through official Yugoslav policy and the cultural institutions managed by the government to implement it, puppetry has been allotted a small but secure niche, drawing a once minor entertaimnent into the mainstream of community cultural activity. Thus sanctioned and funded by state policy, puppetry has developed a cadre of artistic, organizational, and educational

8 9 supporters so that itis being maintained, in tandem, within the walls of the state theaters, and beyond, in various social, educational, and festival spheres. Far from isolated, these two forces are continually intersecting.

Theoretical Framework

In its examination of where and how artistic activity intersects with the overriding social and political order of its parent culture, this study is guided by anthropologists concerned with the process of cultural dynamics and social change as well as those interested in contemporary ritual as symbolic of cultural systems and the beliefs which are their foundations. The work of folklorists and semioticians who focus on the contextual elements of artistic form and the way tradition is maintained within changing society provides a second, key, theoretical framework. While these studies have investigated the relationship or the underlying logic between cultural form and different artistic expressions or genres, puppetry has not yet been examined in these directions.

Witherspoon’s penetration of the meaning informing Navajo weaving and its central, vivid relationship to the very core of cultural philosophy is one model for the analysis of the correlation between artistic design and practice and the social order framing it. Interpreting weaving as a tangible manifestation of the most fundamental Navajo beliefs he maintains that:

... all cultures are constructed from and based on a single metaphysical premise which is axiomatic, unexplainable and unprovable... I do wish to argue that apparently major and significant changes can occur on the surface level of a cultural system without alteration to its more fundamental metaphysical assumptions. These surface changes require a process of world modeling with lower level assumptions. Through this process of reconciliation the cultural system returns to an ordered and coherent whole. What I am trying to uncover in this work is the constant and enduring core of Navajo culture... (1977:6-7). 10

While the puppetry I observed in Slovenia and Croatia was neither as tradition bound nor central as Navajo weaving, I perceive it as fiilly representative of the fundamental beliefs shaping Slovene and Croat culture specifically and of certain broader ideals maintained throughout Yugoslavia over the past forty years.

Thus, while puppetry itself is not integral to Yugoslav culture, its aesthetic standards, its organizational system, its ritual role, and its symbolic value are derived from the most integral Slovene and Croat cultural elements.

Performers consistently provide the clearest understanding of just what puppets are and how they work. Baird describes how puppets are metaphors for humans and thus mirror but do not duplicate human experience (1965).

Bogatyrev further explores the significance of this inherent quality, concluding that puppetry is a dramatic rather than visual art; therefore how it is dramatized and what form and design mean in performance are a puppeteer’s most fundamental concerns. His essays from the 1920s and 1930s are pioneering in their concentration on the duality between puppet figure and actor and his emphasis clarifies social context, especially the relationship between performer and audience, and exposes a set of nonverbal communicative devices (1983).

Jurkowski, current dean of European puppetry and President of UNIMA, the international puppetry organization, delves farther into the specific codes and functions of puppet communication: his classification of the four types or uses of puppets in drama illuminates their intrinsic nature, social forms, functions, and ultimately, their means as symbolic expression. Furthermore, Jurkowski places these symbolic properties into the context of contemporary theater. Explaining how, with the customary screen or booth dismantled, the lines between 11

actor/narrator/puppet/observer are less fixed and obvious, he argues that

puppetry has greater semiotic complexity. Thus, the potential for symbolism is

greater than ever. His theory that puppetry today is "atomized," that it creates "...

an unlimited number of ‘atoms’ just waiting to be introduced as components into

new theatrical units" (1983:130) sheds light on the subtle, nontraditional crossflow

of communications which is emerging as the mark of experimental Slovene and

Croat puppetry today. Green and Pepicello strip away the layers of

communicative action and, through form, juxtaposition, and depth, they interpret

puppetry’s complexity, concluding, "... we can see puppet theater as a metonym of

human theater, which is itself a sign; therefore puppet theater is a metonym and

the puppet itself, is a sign of a sign, standing in metonymic relationship to human

theater" (1983:146-161).

How puppet semiotics work, what they reveal about cultural ethos and

context, how they shape performance, is elucidated by studies which show how highly concentrated puppetry is: that it crystallizes emotions, ideas, and relationships and that it does so in seemingly simple, yet effective ways.

Pasqualino’s analysis of two techniques of Italian puppetry, hand or glove puppets and marionettes, contributes directly to my analysis of Yugoslav rod and string puppetry. It sheds light on the specific codes (language and poetics, music, voice quality, lighting, and gesture) of each "system" and clarifies their meaning and roles in creating audience response, mood and atmosphere, characterization, and deeper symbolic meaning (1983:219-280). By focusing on language and voice quality exclusively. Gross traced the development and change through style, devices, and roles of Belgian rod puppetry (1983:281-314). All of these studies. 12

collected in a special issue of Semiotica. entitled "Puppets, Masks, and Performing

Objects from Semiotic Perspectives," edited by Frank Proschan (1983) support the

thesis that puppetry is serious, dramatic art designed to set different associations,

relationships, and symbols into motion with distinctive style and intent.

Of equal significance have been the contributions of recent folklore studies

which expand our comprehension of the linguistic, social, and physical dimensions

of performance. Dundes’ recognition of folklore as reflective of social order

serves as an initial base for such inquiry (1971:93-103). Hymes’ argument that

folklore is more than a passive vessel of culture, that it is, in fact, an organic

extension and facilitator of culture, shaping it as well as being shaped by it,

extends our grasp of the dynamic forces of performance (1971:42-50). Abrahams

requested the adoption of analysis which places folklore into social context in

order to assess its "rhetorical" scope and force. His focus on the cumulative

elements of performance, the actor, the form itself, and their effects on the

audience, also underscore its ritualistic properties (1968).

Discerning the ritual elements and functions of performance has attuned

folklorists now more than ever to the aesthetics of folklore activity. Dan

Ben-Amos laid out the groundrules earlier when he asserted that folklore was

"artistic communication in small groups" (1971:13). Glassie subsequently walks

through this definition by emphasizing the key components: that as "artistic"

activity, performance transfers abstract, aesthetic principles into tangible form and that, moreover, the personality of the artist prominently features in its identity; that as "communication," performance permits individual conceptualization to be shared or passed along from self to others; and that as "small group" activity what 13

is important is not physical size as much as an informal environment creating a

degree of intimacy among participants. Thus folklore, Glassie concludes, is

something serious and out of the ordinary, "not cheap, not shallow" (1984:130). It

holds purpose and creates the same kind of intensity as ritual. Ben-Amos also

dwells on its symbolic dimensions and functions:

Its forms have symbolic significance reaching far beyond the explicit content or particular text, melody, or artifact. The very syntactic and semantic structure of the text, the special recitative rhythm of presentation, and the time and locality in which the action happens have symbolic implications for which the text itself cannot account (1971:11).

While scholars traditionally viewed folklore as expressions of common social values and shared identity, recent folklorists have investigated how it is also capable of revealing diversity and conflict. Bauman, for example, explains that we need to examine folklore as "verbal art" and, thus, by assessing what and how ideas are communicated we can penetrate both symmetrical and asymmetrical relationships (1971). Elsewhere Bauman provides a blueprint for interpreting these patterns via specific codes, including among them, language, metaphor, stylistic devices, and nonverbal devices, all of which comprise the "verbal art" of folklore (1975).

One extension of the contextual analysis proposed by Dorson (1967) and

Green (1981) with additional meaning for this study examines the ethnic dimension of folklore by identifying the role of the individual actor, by clarifying the variations rather than the sameness of ethnic folklore, and by recognizing the meaning of new forms as opposed to those which are fixed or tradition bound

(Stern 1977). Warner’s analysis of the ways Russian folklore responded to political and social changes is, by comparison, a more traditional structural study 14 of theme, characterization, and language (1983).

A more recent approach anticipates change not only in folklore text but in performance style and even in new kinds of form. Burson argues that to see folklore as solely a repetition of a single text or even minor variations of it

(bringing it up to date for example) fails to satisfactorily regard the social dynamics or broader cultural context. Folk drama had long been identified as that which closely followed a specific historical text. Arguing that folk drama is fluid rather than fixed she notes:

Questions of creativity, innovation, and the intersection of person, community, and event tend to be less important than those of textual antecedents. Holistic interpretations of the event are unusual although they should be the norm (1980:308-309).

Burson’s call to recognize the enduring orientation of performer and changing patterns or forms relates specifically to this study which concludes that Slovene tradition is the approach and aesthetic standards of its performers, not its texts or techniques. Writing about traditional folk drama she maintains: "Again, it is the concept of the mummer's play, the traditional idea of what it should be and how it should be put on which shapes the performances and is passed on from year to year" (1980:315). The influence of complementary studies which further emphasize social context (Ben-Amos 1971:5-15), the role of the narrator, the aesthetics of language, nonverbal devices, and the relationship between performer and audience, (Abrahams 1968:143-158; Bauman 1975:290-311; Glassie 1984) will be evident in Chapter VII which investigates puppet genre, technique, devices, and mood.

Moreover, studies of festivals reinforce these conclusions about the potential strengths of performance as communicative symbol through their interpretation of 15 the political scope of public celebrations. Abraham’s "An American Vocabulary of Celebrations" (1987) is a theoretical treatment of festivals which clarifies terminology. Recognizing that festival and ritual manifest universal human needs to express metaphysical thought - and to do so in a lucid manner, he identifies rituals as more individualistic, as reinforcing social order, and as rechaimeling energy back into society. Festivals tend to be more of a public process, whose participants are "playing" for an audience as well as for themselves, and whose internal dynamics are self-generating, enabling it to exist somewhat independently

(1987:175-183). From this certain distinctions between amateur (which is more like ritual) and professional puppetry (which tends to have more elements of the festival) become clear, although, as I discuss in Chapter VII, with the recent shift towards "little forms," professionals are renewing the ritual properties of their performances. Kaeppler’s analysis of three South Pacific Islands festivals examines the very public nature which underscores a divergent set of motivations on the part of the festival agent/organizers, participants, and audience. She points out that while these may be out of step or in conflict with one another, the festival’s goals and success (whether they bring people together, how, and to what purpose, or whether they reinforce pre-existent social barriers) must be a separate conclusion (1987:162-170).

Two studies which examine the broad implications of contemporary Yugoslav festivals under socialism further explicate the complicated relationships of such social activity and politics. Rice’s discussion of a Macedonian sobor ("gathering") sets the stage for the tensions found in customary, local celebration and state- sponsored activity: 16

These modem folklore ensembles (which the state supports as symbolic of national identity and only has to support because the economic and social progress fostered by the state is ultimately destmctive of the folklore forms themselves) have turned music, song, dance, and costume into items of performance and entertainment rather than celebration, ritual, and participation (1980:125),

Nonetheless, Rice finds dual meaning in the informal "stmcture" of present day

sobor and in the very reality of its present day existence (1980:113-128). Supek’s

analysis of Croat Lenten carnival expands Rice’s thesis. Recognizing the social

functions (as entertainment, as a vehicle to channel emotional feelings about the

state, and as a means of promoting community solidarity), she examines the

stractural changes shaping carnival over recent years. These carnivals are

accepted as part of the rich, Croat cultural heritage; colorful and sanctioned by the state, they are well-publicized by the media: "In other words, manifestations of the cultural identity of various Yugoslav peoples are welcome in so far as they do not threaten Yugoslav political unity. Maintaining the balance is, of course, difficult" (1983:92). How Yugoslav puppetry as practiced in Slovenia and Croatia finds an acceptable course between ethnic tradition and socialist principles is clearly one of the main threads mnning through this analysis. One recurrent question focuses on how today’s performers are seeking to revitalize the ritual within their puppetry.

Moreover, whether in its customary prescribed format or through the current stylistic innovations I observed, Slovene and Croat puppetry relies on many of the same techniques of traditional religious festivals. Turner (1982) and Cohen

(1980) in particular have pointed out the ritualistic properties and functions of contemporary cultural activity and events. While their focus is on secular and political manifestations of ritual activity and process today, they are clearly 17 building upon their own and others’ anthropological inquiry about the function of ritual. Without surveying the longer historical dialogue centered on ritual, I would like to refer to select contributions which have stimulated subsequent research, including my own.

Once viewed as indicative of the parameters of social behavior, ritual was identified as one of a set of interrelated communal elements self-imposed to reinforce society. Evans-Pritchard defined certain rituals as integral to fundamental social institutions, such as marriage, which exist in order to maintain or stabilize social order. Ritual was germane to his study of that ordered structure in so far as it explains the social frame and how it is pragmatically strengthened by society. His bias supports his premise that anthropological study is more pragmatically suited to analysis of social configurations than of process and dynamics.

Malinowski, while sharing an interest in the interdependence of cultural structures and social institutions, had earlier pursued an alternative course of study which focused on process as much as patterns. His Pacific Island research specifically questioned how social and religious institutions meet man’s most basic bio-physical needs. According to Malinowski, ritual, whether it is found in the marriage ceremony or the kula ring, symbolizes economic transactions necessary to cultural maintenance (1929:121). Secondly, he argued that ritual must be examined within its social, economic, and political context where it can best be understood as meeting individual human requirements as well as broader societal ones. By thus addressing man’s needs and subsequent behavior within the scope of cultural structure, Malinowski stressed the continual intersection and dynamics 18

of physical necessity, social action, and cultural institution. Furthermore, his focus

on the individual expands our understanding of the role of the human actor as

social agent in relation to group dynamics, and it sheds new light on the concept

of social unity.

The questions of the corporate group and social unity were the core of

Durkheim’s study of primitive belief and ritual, first published in 1912. Centered

around an investigation of totems, Durkheim’s study addressed the broader issue

of how society perceives itself in relation to the universe. He concluded that

symbols and rituals play a major role in establishing cultural identity. Recognizing

that totems held more ultimate meaning as emblems than as nomenclature,

Durkheim accepted the values of symbols on their own. Secondly, he placed broader meaning on the symbolic properties of ritual activity (1912:21). His

assessment of symbols as vessels of communal values is equally significant;

maintaining that as symbols circulate and become absorbed into society, they

stimulate or reinforce tradition, he concluded they strengthen social cohesion.

Symbols, by creating a shared social focus, provide vitality and immediate meaning to ritual activity. Through this interpretation of the features of symbols

and their uses in ritual, Durkheim developed the idea of the "collective consciousness" or the phenomenon of community solidarity based on shared identity, experience, and cognition. This study of puppetry is indebted to

Durkheim’s appreciation of symbols in and of themselves; moreover, based on his work, it examines how puppetry is used as a symbol of cultural identity, where puppetry fits into the greater sphere of Slovene and Croat social organization, and how puppetry is an expression of shared social and aesthetic standards and 19

practices.

Durkheim’s conclusions and the confirmation of the totality of culture, as

supported by Mauss after him, have guided further research of the social functions

of ritual (1967). Gluckman perceived how ritual both perpetuates social cohesion

and reflects or expresses social criticism of the established order. He argued that

this capability for bringing deepseated conflict to the forefi*ont in the

concentrated, symbolic form of ritual in fact serves to redefine and reaffirm the

basic logic and reality of that order (1959:130-132). By thus perceiving the

dialectics of ritual, Gluckman’s studies probe the dynamism of moral and social

forces and how they are played out, symbolically, in ritual.

Lévi-Strauss’ interest in how symbols express or embody the most

fundamental cultural beliefs and ideals, builds on dialectics when he examines

how abstract principles are transformed by the means of symbolism into concrete

images which we can understand. The symbols are representations of the

opposite forces within which man operates. The process by which symbol and

ritual translate or externalize cultural metaphysics corresponds to that of myth and

art, and Lévi-Strauss perceives each of them to be universal as well as significant

cultural properties. Moreover, he proposes that the abstract ideas informing

symbol and ritual, like art and mythology, are in fact the underlying "logic," the basic system of thought, upon which an individual culture evolves. Not only do symbol and ritual fulfill a requisite human need, but they are testament to the intrinsic fertility, breadth, and flexibility of the human mind:

The real question is not whether the touch of a woodpecker’s beak does in fact cure toothache. It is rather where there is a point of view from which a woodpecker’s beak and a man’s tooth can be seen as ‘going together’... and whether some initial order can be introduced into the universe by means of 20

these groups (1966:9).

Elsewhere, in his analysis of a Cuna Indian incantation sung to induce childbirth,

Lévi-Strauss demonstrates how ritual and symbol provide the transition between

the reality of a difficult labor and explains how these express the axiomatic

concepts of good and evil, purity and contamination, order and chaos (1963:186-

205).

The question of how symbols operate or, taking another perspective, who or

what generates them acquires new political scope in the work of Edmund Leach.

Sharing Malinowski’s wariness of the mystique of the social collectivity, he

acknowledges at the same time the need to examine the cultural system in its

"entirety," as proposed by Mauss in The Gift (1967). Examining the full cultural

environment, he focused on how social practice symbolized central political

realities and forms and how these surfaced and were manipulated in ritual.

Tracing the patterns and means by which Burmese advanced status, Leach

observed highlanders manipulating traditional entities, brideswealth and genealogy

for example, and concluded that these symbols feature prominently in social

advancement. He determined that individuals acting for their own self-interest

(separate from those of society) are principal catalysts of change. Rituals and

their symbols are tools with which individuals can engage in political action, working to re-align or alter cultural boundaries and social order (1954). How

Slovene and Croat puppeteers and cultural organizers use puppetry to make political as well as artistic gains, although for ethnic or national purpose rather than self advancement, is an issue discussed in this study.

What then are the common threads among these scholars who have shaped 21

my own inquiry? Dolgin identifies the central pair of assumptions which frame

symbolic anthropology based on this dialogue as, first, the idea of the shared

unified system and, secondly, the force of the individual will and action (1977).

Within anthropology and linguistics, there have been recent studies which

stimulate the way we perceive rituals and symbols working in society and how we

are choosing to analyze them. For example. Peacock’s analysis explains how

clowns and transvestites, while presenting different styles and themes of social

disorder, fundamentally uphold the central cultural system (1972). Babcock,

commenting on how rituals and individual symbols of reversal (expressing

Turner’s "anti-structure"), reveal or synthesize properties and truths about the cultural system that everyday reality does not and cannot reveal also argues that ritual, by its symbolic and ultimately moral meaning, does more than emphasize the underlying social order. Ritual brings that order out into the open, puts it in relief, and allows us to reconsider it (1984).

On a broader scale, one with ethnic or regional scope, Da Matta discusses how ritual serves as a magnified drama in which individual participants play an active role; moreover, while drawn into the social collective by its momentum they are all the time actively sorting themselves through social drama. Ritual, therefore, is more than passive observance: it furthers self-recognition and individual social perspective (1984). Myerhoff characterizes ritual as that which both breaks through everyday reality of time and place and serves as an uncommon analogy of culture, one intensified by its effective appeal to our senses.

Ultimately ritual has the ability to charge or change our individual perspective

(1984). 22

My study aims to discern the roles of puppetry within the broader social and

political realities of the Slovene and Croat cultural frames. It also traces the

means and purpose by which individuals shape and structure puppet activity and

performance to meet their social and ideological needs. While paying close

attention to the structure and form of the plays, charting patterns of theme,

characterization, and texture over ten, twenty, and in some cases, thirty years I

assess the visible living product. My concern lies not only with the transference of

ideals, values, and dissension into puppetry, but also with the way puppetry

rechannels or otherwise stimulates social examination and action on different

operational levels. Accordingly, I consider puppetry, like other social drama and ritual, to involve serious intent. It is neither idle nor isolated activity. Rather it embodies and expresses important cultural forms and beliefs. While formed by custom and tradition, it is at present generated without a set model.

In perceiving puppetry as flexible and not fixed and as centered in social and political reality, this study is influenced by the research of Cohen, Geertz, and

Turner most especially. Geertz, in his analysis of ritual sport, demonstrates how cock fighting manifests the continuum of Balinese culture as it incorporates the most fundamental aesthetic, moral, and philosophic values as well as those defining economic and political status. By first identifying the psychological meaning of the sport in Balinese terms, Geertz examines the ritual symbolism of the fight for participants and observers, concluding that its dramatic actions represent Balinese social dynamics at large. Geertz argues that the final significance of the ritual lies in its communicative and cognitive value:

What sets the cock fight apart from the ordinary course of life, lifts it from the realm of everyday practical affairs, and surrounds it with an aura of enlarged 23

importance is not, as functionalist sociology would have it, that it reinforces status discrimination... but that it provides a metasocial commentary upon the whole matter of assorting human beings into fixed hierarchical ranks and then organizing the major part of collective existence around that assortment. Its function, if you want to call it that, is interpretive: it is a Balinese reading of Balinese experience, a stoiy they tell themselves about themselves (1973:448).

Cohen argues that the innate characteristics of symbols, ambiguity and

multiple meaning, render them flexible, thereby promoting continuity despite

external, environmental change and even during internal, conceptual alteration.

"One of the major functions of symbols is to give tangible, relatively enduring

objectification to relations that are perennially in the process of ‘becoming’."

Basing his analysis on the universality of the phenomena of social and political

change, he concludes:

The stability of the system is in effect maintained by repetitive symbolic activities which continuously create and recreate the system... Ib ere is thus a continuous process of action and counteraction between the symbolic order and the power order even when there is no significant structural change (1976:135).

Cohen’s argument clarifies the political as well as the organic nature of ritual

or symbolic activity. First, he perceives all relationships, whether social, religious

or economic, to be essentially political, that is concerned with power. Moreover, he maintains that these relationships are communicated, or in his words "... objectified, developed, maintained, expressed, or camouflaged..." by symbolic forms or activity (1979:89). Accordingly, symbols stand at the very heart of cultural activity, deriving their own pulse from it and simultaneously perpetuating its substance and vitality.

Second, Cohen adds dimension to our understanding of complex ritual process. By placing individual initiative, creativity, and dexterity within the context of social dynamics, he traces the evolution of symbols and rituals from 24 their root source to social acceptance through cognition and practice. It is this complementary duality of kernel and social development which renders symbols potent, simultaneously meaningful and useful both to the individual and to the corporate group. By their capacity to serve existential and practical ends, symbols transcend finite definition. Rather they are abstract, multifaceted, and ultimately as intricate as the processes they inform and manifest. The very dynamism of symbols on the one hand and their social functionalism on the other, represent either end of a moving spectrum: "And it is this ambiguity in their meaning that forges symbols into such powerful instruments in the hands of leaders and of groups in mystifying people for particularistic or universalistic or both purposes"

(1979:103).

Thus, by providing a pragmatic frame of reference with which to approach cultural order and, consequently, by perceiving the complex movement within it,

Cohen’s work guides our knowledge of the impetus, tone, and impact of symbols and rituals. These conclusions indicate a breadth of scope, one incorporating individual agents and the social collective. At all times, Cohen’s analysis maintains sight of cultural evolution, of the threads of change, the mechanisms they activate or alter, and the resultant consequences reproducing cultural activity and order. Concurring with Cohen on the complexity of symbolic process and with Geertz on the social role of ritual action. Turner identified first the powerful vitality of rituals and, secondly, their use as catalysts (1975:147). In his analysis of

African ritual, Turner assessed the full process of ritual, pinpointing its developmental flow and meaning therein:

I came to see performance of ritual as distinct phases in the social processes whereby groups become adjusted to internal changes... and adapted to their 25

external environment (social and cultural as well as physical and biotic). From this standpoint the ritual symbol becomes a factor in social action, a positive force in an activity field. Symbols, too, are crucially involved in situations of societal change. The symbol becomes associated with human interests, purposes, ends, and means, aspirations and ideals, individual and collective, whether these are explicitly formulated or have to be inferred from the observed behavior. For these reasons, the structure and properties of a ritual symbol become those of a dynamic entity, at least within its appropriate context of action (1982:21-22).

Turner’s hypothesis, that symbols trigger social action, repudiates the notion of symbols as essentially passive conduits which serve to reflect social order or the status quo. It also lifts the study of ritual symbols out of an exclusively religious context and places it squarely in the midst of the everyday world, which, like

Cohen, he characterizes as a political reality (1974). Thus, Turner identifies symbols as multivocal, secular as well as sacred, and intrinsically political.

Clearly basing his understanding of how ritual works on the studies of

Durkheim, Malinowski, and Gluckman, among others. Turner’s own contribution to theory requires further explication. Turner maintained that key ritual symbols, as extensions of the fundamental conceptual structure of culture, express not the negative aspect of social order, its restrictions, but rather transcend them, thereby representing its mirror opposite, "anti-structure." Through the presentation of order inverted, ritual symbols most clearly reveal the true core of culture. It is important to clarify the concept he calls "anti-structure." Turner defined an image far more affirmative than negative, as more spiritual (in that it is truer to pure concepts) than profane, as liberating individual members of society from the restrictions imposed by social order, namely of status, gender, lineage, or ethnicity

(1982:44). It is, in fact, that discriminating order which has been muddied in light of the founding principles and beliefs from which it developed. Furthermore, it is 26

through what Turner called "communitas" (or that sense which engenders unity

rather than division or compartmentalization into pre-established social roles)

which allows us to perceive anti-structure as expressed in ritual. Both ritual and

its anti-structure provoke reflection on our existent social entity.

In short, symbols and symbolic ritual stimulate thought, allowing us to

engage in a two-step process by providing first an alternative way of "being

socially human" (that is, expressing unrestricted behavior through the images of

anti-structure), and, secondly, by allowing us to be distanced from our everyday

roles in order to evaluate and/or express them (1982:50-51). In his idea of critical

distancing. Turner is indebted to the study of Arnold Van Gennep who, writing at the turn of the century, formulated the concept that the human life cycle is marked by important stages of experience and that each stage is characterized by a specific rite of passage. Three phases complete each passage: separation, transition, and finally reintegration (1960). Turner interpreted this movement of disassociation and, through it, the meaningful synthesis of reintegration, as corresponding to the symbolic action of social rituals of traditional societies ordered around the cyclical patterns imposed by nature.

In recent studies. Turner adapted this interpretation of ritual consequence within primitive society to the concept that secular ritual performs the same basic process within complex, industrial society, now liberated from nature’s seasonal restrictions and no longer a self-contained and possibly isolated traditional unit.

Thus he recognized that activities such as art, sport, and theater are "serious" play

(noting that even traditional ritual has elements both "earnest and playful"), and he discerned a necessary, universal kind of exchange or "cultural flow 27

mechanisms and patterns" in secular rituals as well (1982:52-59).

At the same time, Turner characterized the principal properties which

distinguish primitive and contemporary secular ritual from each other. Primitive

ritual is solidly integrated into the entire cultural system: it is collective activity, it

corresponds directly to the natural cycles of man and the environment, and,

finally, it seeks to harmonize these often diverse elements together. Most

contemporary industrial societies lack the basic social and economic cohesiveness

of these cultures. Secular ritual today manifests the complexity and diversity

generated by modern culture and its technology. Consequently, Turner identified

ritual activity as highly individualistic (more a choice of taste rather than social

duty), fragmentary (not secured to cultural order in any important way), and

changing (far more dependent on artistic and intellectual styles of the time).

Thus, while performing functions similar to that of traditional primitive

ritual, modem secular ritual exhibits different properties which are important in

context and cover different ranges of activity as well. It can be direct, topical, and

as intellectually anchored as emotionally involved:

By means of such genres as theater, including puppetry and shadow theater, dance and drama, and professional story telling, performances are presented which probe a community’s weaknesses, call its leaders into account, desacrilize its most cherished values and beliefs, portray its characteristic conflicts and suggest remedies for them, and generally take stock of its current situation in the ‘known world’... (1982:11).

Yet, Turner considered neither the larger cultural meaning nor the emotional

impact of such ritual diminished or diluted in any way; on the contrary, he

maintained that these performances motivate deep emotions and cultural perceptions and that through communitas, greater harmony between the self and

society is promoted. In short, in the highly charged and changing societies of 2 8 today, rituals remain as vital and potent in themselves as ever.

The ritual properties and the process through which they are expressed in

Yugoslav puppetry are central to the analysis of aesthetics and structure of performance. Artistic quality and ritual performance provide emotional drive and social meaning for puppetry even when prescribed by ideology. These qualities are valued today as it becomes increasingly clear that puppetry’s meaning lies not just in its message but in its response to human needs, to its time, and to what it reveals to culture about itself. Individual puppeteers are again questioning the integrity of the state system in the arts; at this time economic and political uncertainty are also endangering the viability of the oversized state theaters. Both issues point up Slovene and Croat puppetry’s dual meaning as artistic communication and social ritual.

Accordingly, Turner’s analytical approach is as significant as his theoretical guidance. While he firmly required ritual analysis to be placed in social or religious and political context. Turner’s foremost concern centered on individuals as agents, whether as organizers and instigators, celebrants and performers, or observers. He was interested in the scope of their ritual involvement, from its physical and emotional aspects to spiritual and possibly political levels. As noted, this emphasis on the individual as social actor and, frequently, social catalyst, stems from Malinowski, running successively through the works of Leach and

Cohen and is evidenced, too, in Lévi-Strauss’ concern with the effects of symbolic process on the individual psyche. It also corresponds to the focus of recent studies of children’s play and folklore.

Sutton-Smith, for example, accepts both the premise that games and sport 29 are serious play and that individual behavior and perception are key factors in meaningful social activity. Moreover he argues that it is within such play that tensions between the social norm and its negative image or opposite (an alternative parallel to Turner’s anti-structure) surface, thereby stimulating increased awareness and self-identity (1972). Bateson furthers the concept of play as serious cultural activity by arguing that play serves as a social "paradigm", one which transfers what is learned about social reality to another plane, that of individual response via play. His call for research which places play in social context urges anthropologists to consider the relationship between player and society, first, and to investigate the structure of play which reveals it (1978).

Following Bateson’s guidelines, subsequent studies address the role of the individual and the entire process of games and play. For example. Agar uses

Eskimo children’s games to identify both important cultural values, such as self- reliance and group survival, and to reveal the currents of social change represented by the advent of new kinds of play, specifically games of strategy

(1976). Farrer focuses on the nonverbal patterns of communication which shape games and explains how these are rooted in fundamental Indian social custom and standards (1976).

Summary

Based on these orientations to the cultural process and, specifically, the role of ritual and symbol in it, this analysis seeks to identify puppetry’s vertical dimensions, the ones created by ideology which precast the structure of the theater and prescribed certain themes and form, and its horizontal dimensions, those well-rooted in custom or designed by overriding cultural values and 30 perceptions. It is clearly centered in the broader social, political, and even aesthetic realities which define contemporary Slovene and Croat cultures.

Moreover, it is predicated on the concept that this puppetry is not fixed, nor ever has been, and that it represents the ongoing synthesis of different traditions, times, and ideas that are uniquely part of what it means to be Yugoslavian. How customary puppetry is being recycled or redirected to meet present day concerns and needs is basic to this precept. In Slovenia, as Chapter IV discusses, this assumes specific ethnic symbolism. For Croatia, it holds broader implications among a range of artists, performers, and cultural activists who use puppetry as a means for addressing society or for circulating beyond one community. The state’s own agenda for using puppetry to covertly support ideology and promote kultura for the past forty years, coupled with its current appreciation of the benefits of international cultural activity adds further dimension to the range of

Yugoslav puppetry. Thus, this study seeks uo place specific conclusions about changes or shifts in narrative structure or style, in bureaucratic organization, and range of performance activity, directly within the broader cultural base. CHAPTER ni

FIELD RESEARCH AND METHODS

OF DEVELOPMENT

The call for a holistic examination of the zones where cultural institutions and dominant socio-political forces converge (Cohen 1975:106-107; Burson 1980) provides the frame for this analysis of puppetry in Slovenia and Croatia. I sought to adopt a strategy which combined analysis of puppetry’s symbolic elements and analysis of puppetry as a symbolic agent within a specific cultural environment with that of the prominent cultural activitists who promote theater on different levels. The research methods used in this study were designed to provide access, first, to a broad range of puppet performances and texts, secondly, to a cross section of cultural activists, performers, and organizers, and thirdly, to the levels and functions of symbolism within Slovene and Croat puppet shows, community involvement, and international festival participation.

From 1986 to 1988 I conducted fieldwork in Slovenia and Croatia in four stages. Before embarking for Yugoslavia, I engaged in intensive study of Serbo-

Croatian which I continued with private instruction upon my return from 1987 through 1989. A preliminary trip in the fall of 1986 took me first to Zagreb where I attended the FIF Puppetry Festival and was introduced to the Zagreb state theater and then to Ljubljana and Maribor where I met with both amateur

31 32 and professional Slovene puppeteers. The bulk of my field data was gathered during 1987, from April through the summer, when I lived in Zagreb, attending daily performances at the state theates, the Zagrebatko KazaliSte Lutaka (the

ZKL), and observing amateur puppeteers throughout the city and suburban environs. I also traveled to Ljubljana, just over 100 kilometers and two hours away by train, and observed in the state theater there (the LGL) and amateur performances. Two subsequent trips, in January, 1988 and again in October -

November of that year, provided follow up research in both Croatia and Slovenia.

This four step schedule proved advantageous for several reasons. It allowed me to follow the repertory cycle of the theaters over two years enabling me to watch plays weather over time. It provided me with greater access to local

Zagreb regional and national festivals, most of which are held every two years rather than annually. Thirdly, it permitted time to observe the effects of the escalating economic crisis directly on theater as well as festival activity and the subsequent minor and substantial changes that were artistic, social, and political in nature. Thus, over a two year period I was able to see a wide range of traditional and contemporary plays and observe the process of exchange as well as trace specific patterns of development.

With the Zagreb state theater serving as my home base I observed over sixty puppet plays produced in western Yugoslavia. Nearly half were productions from the ZKL and I concentrated on a core set of seven plays which I saw repeatedly.

In addition, I attended performances by nine amateur groups in and around

Zagreb, most of which were affiliated with schools in some way (the major exception being the theater in Dubrava, a working class suburb of Zagreb, whose 33 players had orginally been part of a youth organization and had perfonned together for over a decade). I observed fourteen professional plays in Ljubljana and Maribor and eight non-professional plays throughout Slovenia. Non­ professional puppeteers are a mixed group in Slovenia, ranging from educators to chemists, engineers, and architects.

While representing a broad range of individual interests, Slovene and Croat puppet plays fall into one of two categories: traditional plays (often five, ten and sometimes thirty years old which have had several different productions) and, secondly, current plays. The ZKL and the Ljubljana theater each perform over

500 shows per year. Their annual repertories consist of twelve to fourteen plays rotated monthly, and, of those, four or five are new productions or premiere works. These then join the roster of subsequent repertories for an additional three or four years depending on their success and the availability of performers.

For example, while the ZKL’s "Jaje" was an overnight classic, the theater had to retire it when Ivica, the narrator, was drafted into the army. Old standbys replaced it on the repertory schedule. On the other hand, another new play,

"Patkica Blatkica" had proved so successful that it had had 500 performances in less than three years. Due to the revolving and expanding repertory system, I was able to see current productions, the most durable or popular plays firom the last five or ten years, and thirdly, the classical plays from the fifties and sixties which are the base of the repertories. These three major groups, representing the classical, modernistic, and contemporary periods, constitute the span of Slovene and Croat productions circulating today.

Yugoslav puppetry may also be defined by type as well as by generation. I 34

distinguished four major subgroups or sets for plays: moral fables, classic

international fairy tales, legends or ethnic stories, and experimental plays, often

variations of one or two of the other categories. Fables and faiiy tales were

especially popular during the cl^sical era of the fifties, while the other two sets

have gained prominence during the past two decades. At present, the state

theaters select one new play of each of the four types to present as season

premieres. Moral fables, accounting for 30% of the plays I observed, were

targeted for very young audiences, and fairy tales and legends were designed for

older children. Experimental plays including satires and abstract works, were

being created to attract adult audiences back into the puppet theater, stigmatized

as children’s fare by intellectuals until recently. Increasingly, however, some of

the more experimental techniques and devices were being incorporated in

children’s fare, and some of the most iimovative puppetry included contemporary

moral fables.

The majority of plays observed were performed in the theaters at Zagreb and Ljubljana. However, I was able to see a range of plays distributed among a number of urban locations. I attended professional performances in schools, day care centers, and municipal parks; I observed amateur puppeteers in hospitals, libraries, community centers, high school halls, and during local festivities. In addition, I attended numerous local and international festivals, starting with

Zagreb’s PIF (an international festival associated with Esperanto) and including other international festivals, such as the UNIMA sponsored Puppet Art/88 in

Ljubljana and the Sibenik Festival of the Child, and regional or local events, such as the Croatian Professional Puppetry Festival and Zagreb’s Summer-in-the Parks. 35

Finally, additional access to plays was provided by the media. Over the past ten

years Zagreb TV and TV Ljubljana taped numerous puppet plays which are rerun

on after-school programs for children from time to time. In addition, the

Ljubljana theater is compiling an archival film and design library which includes

both classic and modem plays, and a number of these films were showcased

during Ljubljana’s Puppet Art/88 Festival.

Since my research called for aligning artistic activity with social custom and

cultural policy, I sought to gather data representative of the personality and

standards of that artistry and data relevant to the social and organizational

systems framing it. Seven clusters of informatioo were collected for this purpose:

1. Review of historical material: These materials traced the development of

twentieth century Slovene and Croat puppetry in two main periods, the pre-World

War Two era and the post-1948 years. Information gathered included theater

documents, such as programs, posters, publicity reports, and state pamphlets.

Recollections by veteran puppeteers and those who had known previous players were also important in gaining historical perspective.

2. Observation of performances: This data covers the three levels of puppetry practiced throughout Slovenia and Croatia: amateur, professional, and free-lance performances. In observing performances I concentrated on semiotic codes between performer, puppet, and audience; stylistic devices; narrative frame; textual components, including theme, character, story line, motif, and denouement; poetic language and nonverbal communication; gesture; staging; music; voice quality; atmosphere; tone; and social context. Whenever possible, I tape-recorded performances. This not only enabled me to review performances 36

later but allowed me to trace variations among different performances. In

addition, I saw multiple performances of the same plays: in Zagreb I observed

more than a dozen individual plays in different locations and in Ljubljana, four

plays. Both tape-recording and multiple viewing allowed me to observe variations

brought on by such external factors as cast substitution, change in performance

site or audience, shifts in social context, and even subtle changes in the mood of

the performers.

3. Interviews with puppet activists: In Slovenia and Croatia the wide range

of participants engaged in puppet activity includes several interlocking clusters:

the designers, performers, and directors attached to the theater; the free-lance

artists and puppeteers who are sometimes connected with the theaters or when

feasible are able to work independently; local musicians and writers commissioned

for special individual productions; amateurs who either integrate puppetiy directly

into their work or pursue it for a hobby; and various festival and cultural

organizers who work within a community at large. While most of my interviews

were conducted with the performers themselves, both professional and amateur, I

also interviewed this broader circle of artists, designers, composers, free-lance

directors, theater managers, and cultural activists working in schools, libraries and

festivals.

4. Observation of the state theater system: Being present at the ZKL on a

daily basis enabled me to observe the compartments within the theater and how

they operate. In addition to the performances I attended, I routinely sat in on rehearsals, following several plays from their first rehearsals to completion, planning sessions, staff meetings, and observed contact with visiting foreign 37

puppeteers. I was also able to observe the more informal features of theater life

such as small group socialization in the theater and after hours in local cafes or

homes, travel around the city to out-of-house engagements, and other special

kinds of social interaction which occurred during festivals, guest appearances, or

opening nights.

5. Attendance at festivals and other important cultural activities: As noted,

I attended four local festivals in Zagreb which included puppetiy performances

and four regional or international festivals dedicated exclusively to puppetry.

Again, key features of these festivals, especially the larger international ones, are

the social networking and also the more formal, structured meetings, such as

symposiums, round table discussions, exhibitions, introductory speeches, closing

ceremonies, workshops, and strategy sessions for planning future events.

Moreover, whenever possible I attended other cultural events, from the opera to the cinema, and saw numerous student productions, street events, and "folklore" ensembles.

6. Examination of puppet figures and other artifacts: Both state theaters are interested in preserving older puppets, and in Ljubljana they have inaugurated a puppet "museum" in their new theater quarters. By looking through the stored puppets and sets of former productions, I was able to collect data on traditional forms, techniques, and aesthetics. In Zagreb, I spent considerable time in the upstairs workshop where puppets were first designed, constructed, and then painstakingly assembled. Posters were also sources of information. In addition I translated several Croatian texts and songs into English. When I returned to

Washington, D C. I had select Slovene passages translated: these included some 38 parts and songs from individual puppet plays, several articles from Lutka (the

Slovene journal of puppetiy), and sections from Verdel’s historical study of

Slovene puppetry.

7. Review of anthropological literature and Yugoslav cultural history:

Following my return after my preliminary visit, I conducted a search of historical studies of Yugoslav political and cultural development, concentrating on social organization, ethnic composition, foreign intervention, diplomatic alliances, policy and organization after 1948. At the same time, I expanded my anthropological base, examining recent studies of folklore performance and social ritual, including festivals.

It is also interesting to note what I was not able to collect. First, I had initially intended to observe directly in classrooms to see how puppetry was used both as a teaching tool and as play. However, because classes coincided with theater performances, I was able to visit just a handful of classrooms and observe children informally only on several isolated occasions. Secondly, while I routinely talked with children during intermission or after performances, I did not conduct a more formal survey of their reactions. In part, I found them somewhat guarded in their responses to a stranger and foreigner; in part, though, children tend to give only general commeots unless a specific dialogue or relationship has been well established. It was also clear that once a performance was over, the children were ready to jump up and move on to the next activity. These plays had been carefully designed not to disturb or be provocative to young audiences in any way.

Moreover, while children told me how much they enjoyed the puppetry, it was apparent that they were primed to like them, indeed that they were puppet 39

"literate" and knew how to be a responsive audience. The Zagreb theater

explained that young children, from the ages of three and four, regularly attend

four or five performances a year. The children I observed, while clearly

stimulated by the puppetry, were accustomed to coming to the theater and took it

in stride. Furthermore, I had expected to collect more written texts, but after

having been told repeatedly that the texts themselves were "nothing interesting,"

that it was the performances that mattered, I succeeded in reviewing only a few. I

soon realized that the main advantage of reading a puppet text was that it gave

me an indication of, first, how stoiy and character are given dimension and vitality

in performance, and secondly, how individual artistry molds the flavor and creates

atmosphere. Puppet texts as a rule tend to be flat and one-dimensional; they are wholly dependent on movement, voice, non-verbal sounds, pauses, and gestures.

Similarly, the few folk stories I read in translation allowed me to trace parallel

themes and motifs, such as "The Journey" and "The Enchanted Forest," but they

also showed how different written tales and legends are from puppet dramas in

composition, emphasis, and personality.

Clearly though, I concentrated on interviews and participation/observation.

In all, I interviewed seventy-one Slovene and Croat artists, performers, and directors. In addition I met with over a dozen individuals involved in community and cultural activity. Beyond these two groups, I met with numerous international puppeteers and organizers, either during festivals or here at home.

Because of my involvement with the Zagreb state theater, it was possible to meet and observe theater personnel working in all capacities of the ZKL.

Altogether I interviewed twenty-four theater employees, concentrating on the 40

players and designers and also including the technical crew, the stage hands, the

costume and wardrobe seamstress, the cleaning crew, and key members of the

administration. In Ljubljana I interviewed eight members of the LGL» most of whom were puppeteers or managing-artistic directors. In Maribor I met with five

out of the six professional players, although 1 did not meet the theater Direktor.

In addition I interviewed eleven amateur puppeteers currently active throughout

Zagreb and nine performing regularly throughout Slovenia. Finally I talked with eleven educators and nine cultural organizers.

The majority of interviews were held one-on-one, the main exception being the group interview held at the amateur theater in Dubrava, where everybody participates together as part of a group, and less formal interviews among two or three puppeteers. Prior to conducting interviews I worked out a skeletal questioimaire which served as an informal guide: it covered family history, artistic training, aesthetic goals, attitude towards puppetry today, towards its place within the coimnunity, towards its future direction, as well as specific information about puppet texts, design, innovators, and leaders. I sometimes initiated interviews by asking subjects to draw up a kinship chart or narrate their life history as special means of approaching them, and this technique was especially useful in talking to amateurs and artists. However, most puppeteers are not shy and give detailed, lively interviews. I rarely tape-recorded these sessions, finding the machine distracting and creating some suspicion on the part of my informants. I also felt it curbed how clearly and actively I listened. Finally, I was able to meet with key sources several times for in-depth interviews during the course of my research and the material gathered from this nucleus of twelve is extensive and rich. 41

Interpreting data collected from these major sources revolved around five key segments: textual analysis; performance analysis; analysis of aesthetics and design; analysis of leading players, activists, and agents; and analysis of symbols and symbolic activity. Textual analysis covers the bare narrative bones and structure of puppet plays; performance analysis includes the players’ actions and speech, their interaction with the audience, and the tone and mood created by style, techniques, and devices. For analysis of aesthetics and agents, specific trends of style, management, patterns, rate of festival attendance, theater status, changes in contract amounts or funding sources, flow of directors, and community relationship were established. Finally, and building upon the others, was analysis of ritual properties of puppetry and the meaning and scope of its main symbols.

How these were then rechanneled back into society, either through further local puppetry activity or by generating greater festival participation, completes the continuum from artistic concept and social custom to full-fledged symbol and ethnic and political implications. CHAPTER IV

MAJOR SOCIAL AND HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENTS

SHAPING SLOVENE AND CROAT

CULTURAL ACTIVITY

Introduction

Interviews with Yugoslav puppeteers uncovered concern about the friction between individual expression and collective cultural identity. In rehearsals and seminars, the issue was raised in a host of questions about artistic integrity, ethnic definition, acculturation, and social contracts. Professional puppeteers and, to a lesser extent, amateurs, increasingly reassess their roles, at times realigning them with changing social contexts or demands. In part, these questions reflect the complex course of Yugoslav history. They also penetrate a set of central issues: how to be artistically innovative and comply with official standards and expectations; how to satisfy the accelerating drive for international recognition while addressing their own local community.

The responses I heard were diverse and appropriately reflect different values and changing times. Moreover, individual goals and expectations are increasingly entering the movement shaping puppet activity in the theaters, on the streets, and throughout festival halls. Before measuring how individual vision and collective standards inform puppet design and performance, it is necessary to consider

Yugoslavia's unique, multi-cultured heritage, key artistic and cultural

42 43

ideals, and the political system molding current cultural practice. In prefacing his

study of the creation of a Yugoslav nation-state, one historian offers this epigram:

"Yugoslavia was and still is a complex political and social phenomenon."

(Djoijevic 1980:11). Since 1948, Yugoslavia has been a federation of six South

Slavic republics (Slovenia, Croatia, Serbia, Bosnia-Hercegovina, Montenegro, and

Macedonia) and two autonomous provinces within Serbia (Kosovo and

Vojvodino). With the exception of Bosnia-Hercegovina, each of the six republics

maintained its historic, ethnically based identity (Wolff 1978:65-66). Ethnic and

regional identity remains strong despite forty years of political unification under

socialism. Thus, at the heart of Yugoslavia’s fundamental cultural definition is its

particular social composition, one politically unifying its major South Slavic

national groups and a mix of ethnic minorities, including Romanians, Greeks,

Turks, Italians, Germans, Hungarians, Austrians, Gypsies, Bulgarians, and

Albanians. It is one which prompted a Yugoslav ethnographer to define Yugoslav

socialism thus: as "self-management and political unity with cultural diversity"

(Supek 1983:92).

Furthermore, while recognizing the full import of Yugoslavia’s complex

history, I am focusing here on four of the prominent forces developing Slovene

and Croat culture. Tliese directly relate to Slovene and Croat puppet activity

today and stand as representative of other major dimensions functioning within

Yugoslav culture at large. This chapter examines key geopolitical features in relation to early Slovene and Croat settlement; the dominant socio-political imprint of foreign cultures which established specific social customs and institutions; the breadth and impetus of nationalism in the nineteenth and 44

twentieth centuries; and the principal philosophical and ideological concepts

forging Yugoslav cultural policy via the institutional mechanisms supporting it. At present the future of state-supported art and cultural activity is uncertain; in light

of this Glassie’s call to folklorists has new urgency for anthropologists:

It is strange that in the name of science many folklorists have abandoned history for events they can observe, while many historians have abandoned folklore for facts they can count. Without history folklorists lack the means to explain what they see and are left to circle forever, refining and refining techniques of description. Without folklore, historians can find no aligiunent in the constructs they build out of small facts which become mirrors, infinitely reflecting back to us our own visages (1978:11).

Early Slovene and Croat Cultural Development

Slovene puppeteers repeatedly expressed the belief that theirs was a distinctive and aesthetically refined cultural heritage; moreover, they felt that puppetry affirmed the uniqueness of their ethnic character and outlook. While the next chapter investigates how and to what purpose they see puppetry as an agent manifesting Slovene culture, this chapter explains certain historic foundations for their convictions. It is also important to examine why Croat performers associated their puppetry far less with national identity in comparison.

In both cases, Geertz’s identification of cultural ethos as "... tone, character, mood, quality of their life, its moral and aesthetic style, and mood... the underlying attitude toward themselves and their world..." (1973:127) is helpful in interpreting social orientations. His definition of cultural worldview as "... their picture of the way things in sheer actuality are... It contains their most comprehensive ideas of order" (1973:127) guides analysis of the means by which both Slovenes and Croats developed puppet theater and assessment of the scope of their puppet activities.

As it will become clear, Slovene performers distinguish their puppetry by 45

pointing to "traditional" technique and "our fine aesthetics," and in so doing

continue a longer custom of differentiating Slovene practice and behavior from

that of the other South Slavs. Ethnic groups frequently define who they are by

their exclusiveness, by delineating boundaries to explain who they are not.

Slovene puppeteers claim that their puppetry is delicate, highly individualistic,

self-contained and above all Western. To many of them, these characteristics

bear direct relation to historical Slovene social identity and organization.

Slovenia is foremost a homogenous republic and proud of it (Bertsch 1978).

Slovenes speak a separate and archaic Slavic language which is sufficiently

removed from the more closely related Serbian and Croatian languages that it

serves as one of Yugoslavia’s four official languages, along with Serbo-Croatian,

Macedonian, and Albanian. Yet among its two million inhabitants, there are over

36 dialects of Slovenian and 29 sub-dialects, a number of which are nearly distinct from each other (Winner 1971). Nonetheless, language remains a strong symbol of cultural unity and it serves as an integral factor of one cry for cultural preservation throughout one republic (Bertsch 1978). In Chapter V, I examine how puppetry works into this broader movement.

Very much like the language, the Slovene land itself paradoxically unites and separates the population. While it takes less than three hours to cross either the

North-South or West-East borders, the majority of Slovenia is dominated by the

Julian Alps. Stretching north into Austria and down into northern Italy, the mountains have been instrumental in shaping Slovene identity as Alpine rather than Balkan in character (Bertsch 1978). They have also kept Slovenes localized, village-oriented, and particularistic (Bertsch 1978; Wolff 1978). These steep. 46

wooded mountains closely clustered together are an imposing sight and effectively

isolated rural villages from each other for centuries. They represent, too, a

distinctly Slovene way of life which peasants valued as a consistent source of

natural income, especially in contrast to the poor quality of Slovene soil. As late

as thirty years ago, almost half of Slovene land was populated by dense forest

regions (Winner 1971). Without the natural harbors of the Dalmatian coast,

Slovenes relied on their river systems to transport lumber to Trieste and from

there to points South and East. The forests not only provided a major source of

foreign trade but also, as the puppet play based on Slovene legend indicates, an

almost mythical symbol of society. Furthermore, the profitable trade and the river

access to the port of Trieste was an enduring feature of Austrian and Hungarian

interest in Slovene territory (Kostanick 1963). In 1857, the railroad created

another link to Trieste, and later Vienna, but Slovene mountain villages remained

remote from each other and the capital for nearly another century. Thus, while at

once fully engaged in foreign commerce, which also developed it as the most

"Western" and modem region, it has remained the most particularlistic; only

Macedonia has remained more culturally isolated (Bertsch 1978).

At the same time, Slovenes collectively use their Alpine or, more pointedly,

"Western" identity to distinguish their social and political heritage from that of the other South Slavs. Until recently, Slovene scholars had argued that their ancestors (alone among Yugoslavians) had settled in villages populated by small families rather than the extended family clusters which served as the core of traditional Balkan social, economic, and political stmcture (see Winner on

Mosley, St. Erlich, Tomasevich 1971:59-60). The social institution known as the 47

zadruga was, moreover, perceived to engender basic cultural practices and

attitudes of permanent, all inclusive family bonds; values of cooperative effort and

sharing; and ideals extolling community spirit and equality. Some historians

interpreted the absence of the zadruga and its ethos in Slovenia as evidence that

Slovenes do not possess such an all encompassing communal orientation and,

subsequently, that Slovenes are by custom more individualistic and involved in

private activities, whether in trade or in socializing. Slovene performers

frequently cited this hypothesis when describing the character and aesthetics

distinguishing their puppet art from other Yugoslav puppetry. The Slovene

character, I was told, is different, it is more artistic and more closed.

However, recent studies indicate that while the zadruga may not have

reached the average proportions found in other Balkan regions, it probably

existed on a limited scale and for a short period (Halpem 1963; Winner 1971). It

appears that the zadruga formed the base of Slovene society sometime after migrating Slavic tribes settled in what became known as Illyria in the sixth and seventh centuries and before the German conquests ended by the tenth century.

While evidence reveals that Slovene families never included sixty to one hundred members as some of the larger Yugoslav joint families may have (Stimec 1974), even by the turn of the twentieth century extended families of eight to twenty members were not uncommon. After World War Two, however, Slovene family size and composition did alter significantly, and it is possibly this modem, nuclear family which contemporary Slovenes identify as their social heritage (Winner

1971).

History does add weight to another powerful symbol which Slovenes 48 associate with their cultural propensity for political autonomy. Around the sixth or seventh century, migrating Slavs originally from north of the Carpathians settled in the Balkans and central Europe, in village clusters and organized clans.

Despite a decentralized political base, the Slavs preserved their historical identity and began to exert control over the region (Hammond 1957; Rogel 1977; Wolff

1978). In Slovenia especially, the clans developed stronger political unity and instituted an elected territorial leader by the seventh century. The inauguration ceremony has been described as purposefully modem and democratic: it was

"presided over by a simple peasant, the Duke himself dressed symbolically in peasant clothing when he took his oath" (Rogel 1977:4). While eventually the

Slovene mler became a commissioned vassal of the King of Moravia, the historic precedence of Slovene self-government holds meaning for Slovenes today. Thus, based on different pieces of historic evidence, Slovenes are in a position to claim that their culture not only differs from that of the other Yugoslav people in key ways such as language and settlement, but that it holds different perceptions and values about how Slovenes lived and ought to live. While Croats share a fundamentally parallel historic course, they did not articulate any parallel, clearcut self-definition, in regard to their tradition or puppet art.

Foreign Colonization

Simultaneously coveted by both Eastern and Western powers, Yugoslavia stands at the crossroads between Europe and Asia. Within its own boundaries are basic, natural divergent characteristics: it is at once Balkan (i.e., part of the mountainous peninsula south of the Danube and Sava Rivers) and also part

Mediterranean (over 2,000 kilometers of land along the Adriatic coastline) 49

(Bertsch 1978; Kostanick 1963). Balkan is itself a Turkish word meaning "a chain

of wooded mountains" (Jelavich and Jelavich 1963:1) which is manifest in

Yugoslavia’s twin mountain ranges, the Alpides (curving north and then west

along the Yugoslav-Austrian border, emerging east at the Yugoslav-Romanian

border) and the Dinardes (dominating over forty percent of the land with first, the

Julian Alps of Slovenia, second, the mountains parallel to the Adriatic, third, the

southwestern Sar range of Macedonia) (Hanunond 1957:48-50). Three principal

regions lie between the Alpides and the Dinardes: the northern lowlands arching

west from Trieste through Zagreb and through Belgrade; the fertile corridor of

the Pannonian plain, marked by harsh winters and hot summers; and the central

Dinaric highlands, projecting south into Macedonia (Hammond 1957).

Furthermore, its plains provide the most accessible of cross-continental

routes via two corridors: the first extends West to East across the peninsula, from

the Adriatic to the Black Sea, spanning the fertile Belt of the Hungarian plain;

the second runs vertically from the Viennese "gate" of the northern Danube down

to the Aegean (Byrnes 1957; Kostanick 1963; Jelavich 1963; and Wolff 1978).

Thus strategically positioned, the area also holds other natural features which have broad appeal, most prominent among them: a navigable river network; fertile agricultural land; and a range of coastal harbors (Jelavich 1963; Kostanick

1963).

Yet the region proved as remote as it was accessible: but the historic paradox of the Balkans was the fact that the mountains served as a local barrier chiefly to the settled inhabitants. For the traveler, for the army on the move, there were well-defined lines of passage, main avenues of communication leading into the heart of the peninsula and across the mountain barriers (Wolff 1978:18-19).

These twin factors, internal regional isolation and foreign intervention by empires 50

as diverse as the Byzantine, Ottoman, Venetian, and Hapsburg, have helped shape

South Slav culture and their diverse imprints continue to be factors in current

social and political development.

In Slovenia, the long course of foreign domination formally began when

Charlemagne conquered in 788, permanently enfolding the western Slavic people into western Europe. Frankish rule introduced two institutions which served as the central pillars of medieval Slovene existence: Western Christianity and feudalism. Furthermore, these twin pillars were subsequently reinforced later when the burgeoning Holy Roman Empire sent scores of nobles and clerics to administer the colony (Rogel 1977).

By comparison, the Croats enjoyed greater independence until they were conquered by Magyars in the twelfth century. Eventually the absorption of

Hungarian culture increased on a broad level:

The social pattern of Croatia was much like that of feudal Hungary: Latin was the language of the administration, church, school and polite letters... Though not the victim of the sort of oppression undergone by other Balkan peoples, the Croat nobles experienced the frustrations and disappointments inseparable from their role as frontier provincials. It was no wonder that they developed feelings of great sensitivity about their own importance (Wolff 1978:69).

While the Croats and Slovenes were long vassals of the Germans, the

Hungarians, and later the Austrians, Serbs, Montenegrens, Bosnians, and

Macedonians remained fairly autonomous until the fifteenth century. The Serbian king, Stephan Dusan, extended the Serbian borders to include parts of Albania,

Macedonia, Epirus, and Thessaly by the time of his death in 1355 (Wolff 1978).

By 1463, Bosnia was the first region to be conquered by the Ottomans and

Belgrade followed in 1521 (Jelavich 1963). The siege, lasting four hundred years. 51

successfully severed eastern Europe from the west, the Moslem world from the

Christian, and Turkish autocracy from, first, feudalism and later commercialism

(Tomasevié 1955). Thus, the cultural gulf dividing the Western directed Slovenes

and Croats, fundamentally linked despite clear internal differences, from those

Yugoslavs dominated by the Ottomans, has led to involved and different kinds of

cultural development and orientations.

My concern here lies in examining how this broader bifurcation affected

social customs and institutions, on one level, and with puppetry as representative

social activity on another. Halpern’s caution against facile generalizations is

instructive:

It is easy to set up a dichotomy and say that in the western area there is a tendency for the individual to feel more self-assured in that he is aware of the limitations of his role in a long established institutional framework while in the Ottoman area there is a lack of self-confidence, greater reliance on kin ties..." (1979).

Turkish occupation left an indelible mark on Serbian and Bosnian culture,

affecting social, economic, and political organization and practice. For example,

the tavern, a staple of medieval social life was, due to Moslem prohibition of

alcohol, transformed into the equally ubiquitous coffee house; today, even in areas never subjected to Turkish rule, the kafana stands as a social fixture. Language

and dress were similarly affected: Turkish words such as limun (lemon), boranja

(stringbean), secer (sugar), firale (sandals), and duhan (tobacco) serve as daily reminders of Ottoman influence. Other customs, among them, long term breastfeeding, women’s roles, and the epic ballad were also inherited from the

Turks. Furthermore, on another level, basic attitudes, a sense of fatalism and a mistrust of authority, are believed to have been inculcated into Serbian culture via 52

Turkish influence (Vucinich 1968). In terms of political authority, there is

evidence of Turkish influence in the widespread administrative corruption of the

day, the strength of the clergy (instead of the nobility), and the growth of an

independently minded peasantry (Wolff 1978). Moreover, by the nineteenth

century, Turkish governors had relaxed sufficiently, had become less organized

and less authoritarian, to provide the Orthodox clergy and municipal

administrators certain power. Spurred by the insurrections throughout Europe,

including Greece, a group of Serbian nobles launched a successful revolt against

the Turks in 1834 (Kerner 1949). Independence, hard won for the Serbs and only

a concept for the Slovenes and Croats, became a new force in the political

dynamics of the Balkans.

The Austrian Empire proved equally formidable but with a different kind of

thrust in the west. By the time the Hapsburgs annexed Croatia and Slovenia in

the fourteenth century, both the feudal system and a Catholic hierarchy were

firmly rooted. The native populace became increasingly polarized into the

peasantry and nobility, and throughout the Middle Ages, three peasant groups co­

existed: the manorial serfs, the individual tenant farmers, and the "half-free"

peasants who also paid taxes to the nobles but were exonerated from the corvee paid by the tenant farmers (Wiimer 1971). Gathering resources and taxes from its feudal holdings, the Hapsburg Empire developed into an invincible state, one

distinguished by size and political expertise. Eventually it ruled over a dozen nationalities from the Romanians in the east to the Dalmatians in the South and

West, and later, when, in 1815, Venice and Milan were incorporated into the

Empire, they were highly prized additions. 53

Moreover, not only did its political borders shift, but key social and economic stances did as well. Numerous reforms were initiated under the reign of Marie-Therese and her son which were seeded in the principles of eighteenth century enlightenment. In turn, these developed concepts such as nationalism, republicanism, and romanticism, which were able to alter the social and political terrain of western Europe. Within the Empire the impact of these concepts was less immediate, and, for a time in the mid-nineteenth century, Slovenes and

Croats found themselves even more firmly dominated by foreign power. In 1867, the formation of the Dual Monarchy again strengthened Austrian control. The alliance established Austria and Hungary as constitutional co-monarchies under one ruler, who served as Emperor of Austria and King of Hungary. The new empire grew as a modern, efficient, and powerful ruler over its broad populace.

The broader implications of centuries of political and cultural subordination on social custom, self-perception, and worldview are unmistakably deep. Spangler explains the complexity of Yugoslav history by showing how even in Slovenia and

Croatia there was significant inconsistency between Austrian and Hungarian rule

(1983). Nonetheless, while keeping well aware of the involved dynamics of such history, reference to specific social patterns puts Yugoslav culture in further perspective. On one level, Halpern concludes, the type of social relationships of the Slovenes and Croats is different from that of most of the Serbs,

Montenegrens, and Macedonians for whom kin ties are permanent bonds (1963).

One consequence of this was evident in more recent times, where migrating single

Slovene workers board with other families and whereas the public appearance of

"... single women would not cause a stir in Ljubljana or even a small town like 54

Kranj,... a woman dining alone in a Belgrade restaurant is a rare sight" (1963:170).

On another level, the imprint of western culture, specifically German, Austrian,

and Hapsburg order and bureaucracy is visible in the architecture of major cities

and towns:

The Turks left no enduring urban monuments nor concepts of town as such, and the few preserved wood and plaster houses and mosques provide no basis for the foundation of a modem city... In Zagreb and Ljubljana the town squares and public buildings of the Austrian period are a reproach to some modem developments and a challenge to planners while the town walls serve as points of departure for expansion (Halpem 1963).

In fact, the cities themselves represent another dimension of Austrian and

Hungarian culture. During the nineteenth century, Slovenes and Croats were

encouraged to develop an industrial base and, thereafter, once provincial cities, like Ljubljana and Zagreb, grew into urban centers of considerable size,

commercial standing, and cultural activity. As such they contrast with other

Yugoslav cities, which, like Belgrade with a population of twenty-four thousand by the mid-nineteenth century, remained relatively modest and undeveloped

(Halpern 1963; Stimec 1974; Spangler 1983). It is this broader association of their culture as modem and ultimately Western which forms the base of Croat artistic identity. The performers in Zagreb, especially the professional members of the theater, had centered the design and character of their puppetry in this very concept of culture that is urban, contemporary, and progressive. This, then, rather than any more definite identity of national ethos is the unifying principle behind

Croat perception of puppet art and theater.

Furthermore, at the same time that these overriding social, economic, and political mechanisms were being developed under Austrian and Hungarian colonization which engendered the ideas I encountered in Slovenia and Croatia, 55

other forces working to promote Slavic sentiment and solidarity were surfacing

throughout the Balkans. Pan-Slavism was to have a profound influence on

nineteenth and twentieth century cultural activity and political ideals.

Seeds of Nationalism

Throughout the nineteenth century, national consciousness among the South

Slavs developed a momentum and reached fruition in 1918, after the demise of

the Ottoman Empire and the Austro-Hungarian defeat in World War One, even

though the new Yugoslav nation later faced foreign intervention, during the Pact

of Rome and the Nazi occupation. The drive for self-determination withstood

these pressures, allowing Yugoslavia to chart its own course.

The harbingers of nationalism go back nearly two centuries. Since the

sixteenth century, moreover, language and literature have played a seminal role in promoting ethnic and national causes. In 1584, the first Slovenian translation of the Bible was completed. While a limited number of publications, mostly

almanacs, followed, the circulation of Slovenian literature was low during the next two centuries. A landmark publication was the eighteenth century history of

Slovenia (published in German) by a Slovene priest. Yet, the overall paucity of

Slovene texts indicates the low status of Slovenes under foreign rule. Khlief s study of language in Wales points out how ethnic symbols, like language, denote status: literature both serves to construct ethnic history and to foster national consciousness at the same time (1979). It was not until the nineteenth century that the idea of a separate Slovene national unit existed and even then "Slovenian" was not well-defined (Rogel 1977). Gradually paralleling national awareness and definition, Slovene texts and a literary corpus began gathering. 56

The Serbs and other South Slavs had, on the contrary, succeeded in

liberating language from foreign occupation a century earlier (Stavrianos 1974;

Rogel 1977). While western territories had been influenced by the liberalization

following the French Revolution and the subsequent cultural reforms, it was the

Serbs who found themselves better positioned to promote national language and

literature. For one thing, the Serbian clergy exerted considerable influence.

Secondly, the Turkish rulers had grown increasingly lax and permissive, thereby

granting certain rights to local nobles, and nationalistic interests were advanced by

the continuing erosion of the Ottoman Empire since the eighteenth century.

Thirdly, a national symbol was emerging out of Turkish rule: the epic song

relating the medieval Battle of Kosovo rose, phoenix-like, and stirred national

sentiment, creating solidarity among Serbs everywhere (Vucinich 1978). Finally,

Pan-Slavism, moving westward from Russia, intensified in Serbia just around the

time Serbs felt most humiliated by the Treaty of Berlin. While Pan-Slavism fanned Serbian nationalism, it never acquired the same impetus in Slovenia and

Croatia where it encountered competition from a growing Pan-German movement

(Hammond 1957; Stavrianos 1974; Rogel 1977 and Tomasevic 1955).

Slavic nationalism would have remained less momentous if it had remained solely a regional movement. The Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes each benefitted from the common venture known as the Illyrian Movement. What began as three separate strains of nationalism were merged into the greater cause of South Slav unity and independence. Slavic nationalists were poised for cultural reforms which had been initiated by French administrators along with the Napoleonic

Code (Rogel 1977). Among intellectuals, the mantle of the Illyrian Movement 57 was carried by the poet, Frane Preseren. Something of a national hero today,

Preseren’s poems made him a cause celebre in his own time and he has become a symbol of national independence for Slovenes (Skendi 1980).

At about the same time, a young Croat student of law and philosophy began lecturing on the need for a reformed Croatian alphabet. Ljedivet Gaj, who was to achieve fame similar to Preseren’s, had been influenced by the educational reforms of the French. The overriding concepts, individual freedom, the right of self-expression, and educational privileges for citizens, endured even when the reforms were rescinded. In 1830, he published a revised Croatian orthography; in

1832 his work led to the first lectures on Croatian language held in the German dominated University of Zagreb. Two central questions emerged from his linguistic study: first, which of the three main dialects should act as the official literary language for Croatians, and, second, how to utilize language to promote national unity (Despalatovié 1975). Gaj initially proposed that the Slovenes join with Serbs and Croats to adopt Serbo-Croatian as their literary language, but his proposal was rejected outright (Lord 1963; Skendi 1980). Nevertheless Gaj’s suggestion had the effect of splitting an already troubled Slovene national movement. It was engaged in debate over whether to preserve Slovene folk tradition and divided those who pushed for liberal reforms from those who championed the Illyrian movement. The latter faction argued that only through the adoption of Serbo-Croatian could the South Slav cause be championed (Rogel

1977).

Meanwhile, Serbian intellectuals were pursuing another linguistic course.

Vuk Karadzic, the now legendary critic of the Serbian folk idiom, collected a vast 58 amount of folk poetry throughout Serbia. His work directly sparked appreciation for the richness of folk songs and spawned a broader interest in folk culture as well. The Serbian "folk" motif and style was adopted by numerous young Serb poets and, moreover, grew to symbolize a generational rebellion against Classical poetry and the status quo mentality of their parents (Lord 1963). Furthermore, the Serbian members of the Illyrian movement tended to be literary men themselves, while the Croat and Slovene activists were most often scholars, not poets, and their message lacked the same emotional thrust (Lord 1963). Clearly, then, art and culture were used as - and used differently by the three major

Slavic groups - a symbol and device expressing political values.

Finally, in 1850, the stovakian dialect was declared the national literary language of the Serbs and Croats. While Gaj and Karadzic worked to create a conunon alphabet, national friction countered their efforts. In 1926, a

"compromise" was reached which granted Croats the use of the Latin alphabet and they, in turn, agreed to adopt the Serbian e ending rather than the customary

Croat ije. The process perpetuated the opening of the Pandora’s Box:

The Illyrian Movement was in essence the Croatian national awakening. That this awakening occurred in a Southern Slav context was in part a function of the need for the Croats to identify with a cultural community much larger than Hungary, and in part a need to find an identity which would link the Serbs and Croats... After 1848, when the name Illyrian was replaced by Croatian, it began to be evident that the Illyrian movement had left the Croats with a somewhat ambiguous national identity (Despalatovic 1975:201).

In literature, theme and form followed a parallel metamorphosis. While the early nineteenth century poets modeled their verse and politics after Byron and other romantics, later authors turned to novels, finding them a more appropriate vehicle to address everyday reality and social conditions. August Senoa, the 59 revered Croatian novelist, urged his colleagues to expose these conditions and align literature vrith the needs of the people. At the same time, he challenged them to polish their craft and to create national literature on par with the great novels of France, England, and Russia (Lord 1963). Soon a new movement,

"modema," espousing aesthetic standards and social issues, absorbed Zagreb literary circles as, a century later, abstract design captured the imagination of

Zagreb puppeteers in the 1960s.

Thus, the scope of literary activity and design were linked to political activism and, by the turn of the century, had shifted perceptibly from that of the earlier poets (Skendi 1980). What began as a reaction against foreign cultural domination and then gained momentum (along with religion) as a political issue in Serbia, evolved into a complex political-literary concept with symbolic weight.

As political unity was reached, however, Serbian and Croatian activists, once allied against foreign culture and authority, found themselves increasingly alienated from each other by their separate interests and distinctive national characters.

Development of a Yugoslav State

The creation of the modem Yugoslav state was a multiple step process which involved, first the formation of a new political entity, the Kingdom of the Serbs,

Croats, and Slovenes just after World War One and, later, the building of a socialist federation in 1948. Prior to World War One there was no consensus on the next political move for the Balkans/Slavs despite the efforts of the Pan-Slavic movement. The outbreak of war in 1914 not only began with the assassination of the Austrian Archduke in Bosnia by Serbian terrorists, but it set off a political 60 chain of reactions simultaneously very much connected to the South Slav issue and stretching far beyond its immediate concerns (Hammond 1957).

At the close of World War One, several major forces were simultaneously changing Europe. First, the three great continental empires, the Russian,

Ottoman, and Dual Monarchy, were dismantled and, secondly, the era which had sustained them had passed. The war, viewed as "a major disaster for Europe as a whole..." (Jelavich 1965^ left an uncharted map for the entire continent. During this time democratic reforms throughout Europe had brought English women the vote, instituted a system of referendum and recall in France and Switzerland, and promoted government labor regulations on a wider basis. In addition, the young crop of new states which were formed out of the former Ottoman and

Austro-Hungarian Empires brought different dimensions and facets to the balance of power. Moreover, the war had left Europe in economic disarray. The new

Germany, for example, faced a major war debt, imposed at the Treaty of

Versailles, and a broad depression trapped the rest of European economic growth.

Meanwhile, in London the first steps towards South Slavic political unification were initiated (Hammond 1957).

The Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes was inaugurated in 1918.

Yet, however welcome unity among the Pan-Slavs had been during the war, the fact remained that the South Slav peoples had not reconciled basic national conflicts amongst themselves. Moreover, unification had not been a fully shared goal: before the war, Croats and Slovenes had considered status as a third, Slavic, section of the Austro-Hungarian Empire as their best course. Failing that, many

Croats opted for the creation of an independent Croat state. For their part, Serbs 61

had looked upon a Croat-Serb partnership as a means of expanding Serbian

influence in the region (Jelavich and Jelavich 1965, Zaninovich 1968).

The turn of events leading to war and the war itself altered these prior

designs and, thus, unification assumed a new priority and status. But, in addition

to political definition, the new state lacked a pragmatic cultural framework:

what was needed was a new historical experience, a new political footing shared by all, which might create a more unified system of beliefs. Serbian and Croatian hero myths and epics would have to be replaced by uniquely Yugoslav ones as the basis of authority. In addition, the positive heritage of all ethnic groups in this way might be unified as a common possession of all Yugoslavs (Zaninovich 1968:20).

The political agenda, also ambitious, became increasingly controversial in part

because it sought to address regional problems uniformly and also because it dealt

with untested policies and programs. Three central initiatives received immediate

priority: to establish mutual trust and cooperation throughout the kingdom; to

redistribute land once held by foreign lords, and, finally, to develop an industrial

base. Progress in each case was curtailed by the fundamental complexity of social

and economic factors. Foremost among these were the sets of contrasting cultural

institutions and procedures, the result of long term domination by foreign powers which created different regional traditions and customs such as inheritance patterns, and a rapidly rising population (estimated at one-quarter growth during the interwar period) (Byrnes 1957; Jelavich and Jelavich 1965).

Overriding these individual issues was the central political question: who controlled the power in the new kingdom and how was authority to be parceled out? By 1921, a new constitution granted King Alexander unprecedented authority and headquartered the government in Belgrade. Upset by this show of

Serbian power, Croats endeavored to rebalance the partnership; however, a series 62 of events further deepened the tension. First, the leader of the Croatian Peasant

Party, Stjepan Radie, was assassinated in the National Assembly. Later, when the

Croats requested a restructuring of the government into federal units, the King countered full force. He established himself as dictator, abolishing the constitution, the legislature, and all political parties in one sweep in 1929 (Jelavich and Jelavich 1965; Zaninovich 1968).

In 1934, King Alexander was assassinated by radical Croats. For the next decade, Yugoslavia was governed by Alexander’s brother, the regent Prince Paul and under his government the political infighting among the Serbs, Croats, and

Slovenes intensified. A counter group composed of Slovenes tried to buffer the autocracy of Paul’s regime. In the midst of growing Nazi support among restless

Croats, Belgrade succumbed to pressure and granted autonomy to Croatia. Thus, by 1939, Yugoslavia was severely fractured. Moreover, it grew steadily dependent on German imports and, on the whole, increasingly politically and economically vulnerable as war approached (Zaninovich 1968).

The full consequences of World War Two are unarguably complex and destructive and have been thoroughly investigated in analyses of its specific social, economic, and political ramifications (Bertsch 1978; Hammond 1957; King 1973;

Zaninovich 1968; among others). For this particular study several of these need further explication. The Kingdom of the Yugoslavs, increasingly precarious over the past two decades, was structurally dismantled after the Nazi invasion of 1942.

As the Axis powers parcelled out Yugoslav territory amongst themselves,

Yugoslavs were both subject to their governance and politically segregated from each other. In addition, during the course of the war, the division of native 63

Yugoslavs into pro-Nazi sympathizers and resistance fighters (the Partisans) along largely ethnic lines further divided rather than unified the Yugoslavs against a common enemy. However, as the war progressed, the Partisan effort developed fi-om isolated grass-roots pockets of resistance into a united movement from

Slovenia to Macedonia. It proved a virile and successful force. Moreover, it became the informal base through which Tito, a Croat leader of the Partisans, eventually channeled his own political designs.

By 1942, he forged a united anti-fascist council (AYNOJ) supported directly by regional and municipal councils from all over Yugoslavia. In 1943 the organization began serving as a Yugoslav provisional government with Tito in command. It had received and further maneuvered a moral, structural, and symbolic core which had secured a foothold across Yugoslavia (Byrnes 1957;

Jelavich and Jelavich 1965).

The post war era holds numerous paradoxes and challenges both. On the one hand there are the positive dynamic steps taken to modernize Yugoslavia which included political unification as a socialist state, social democratization, and economic development, specifically, large scale industrialization and urbanization.

On another level, Tito’s gradual command and eventual assertion of Yugoslav socialism, ideologically and politically separate from that of the Soviet Union and

Cominform, added separate, equally weighty dimensions to the future political, economic, and even socio-cultural course of Yugoslavia for the next thirty years.

With the conclusion of the war in 1945, the communists, led by Tito, were poised to assume leadership. At the time, the Partisans were national heroes, living symbols of what a unified front could accomplish. In addition, the Partisans 64 continued receiving Allied support for their contributions in countering Nazi force, and at the same time they were seeking Soviet aid. In contrast, the old pre-war regime, weakened in exile in London during the war, never regained widespread popular support, holding office as a coalition government only for a short time after the war. In 1945, in the first post-war elections, Tito’s party, the

People’s Front, captured 90% of the vote (Zaninovich 1968).

Two goals were paramount during the early post-war years: creation of a unified state and construction of a socialist system using the Soviet Union as a blueprint. To gamer support, Tito courted a broad following among Serbs,

Montenegrens, and Bosnians, as well as his fellow Croats. He capitalized on the mood of solidarity his Partisan movement generated and while never eliminating ethnic mistmst, he diluted it as a powerful negative force. Taking precautions to suppress domination of one ethnic or national group over another, Tito banned all groups organized according to ethnic or religious principles. Political opposition was, from the start, thwarted. Moreover, he managed to appease special groups, such as intellectuals and peasants, who had been alienated by the previous regime.

Finally, he managed to win favor from both East and West. Already recognized by the Allies for the war efforts of his Partisans, he managed to secure aid and understanding from Britain and the United States. At the same time, he formed a private agreement with Stalin, garnering Soviet aid and support on the side.

While securing ties with both camps, he managed to downplay their roles at home: fellow citizens were led to believe that Yugoslav progress was the result of

Tito’s programs and Yugoslav effort. This strategy proved instmmental in solidifying support after his eventual break with Stalin (Zaninovich 1968). 65

Tito’s creation of a new Yugoslav state was a formidable accomplishment.

In an effort to ease ethnic conflict and potential domination by one group, the six

republics and two autonomous provinces were established as the democratic base

of the federation. The government was stratified into a pyramid shaped

configuration, comprised of two main governing bodies, the People’s Assembly,

(divided into two equal chambers in which each delegate represented 50,000

citizens) and the council of Nationalities (elected delegates fi’om each republic).

Next in line was the Presidium, the inner circle elected from the Assembly. The

Presidium, in turn, created the top echelon, the Council of Ministers, divided into

two units, the federal, and the federal republic. The first oversaw all matters of

communications, transportation, and foreign affairs, while the latter regulated

economic, legal, and military affairs (Zaninovich 1968).

In order to strengthen his position and develop the economy, Tito embarked

on a revolutionary strategy designed to restructure the agricultural system and to

modernize and develop industry. Thus, Tito first inaugurated a program of

centralized development modeled directly upon Soviet economic policy: in 1946

he nationalized all Yugoslav industry and in 1947, he launched a Five-Year Plan

aimed at stimulating economic expansion and Yugoslav self-sufficiency.

Moreover, Tito fully understood the symbolic and political force of the peasantry.

He recruited over one million peasants to migrate to the cities, rapidly transforming them from farmers to industrial workers. While at first the majority of farms remained in private hands, by 1951 the state controlled 60% of the land and an additional 20% of the farms were organized into peasant cooperatives

(Zaninovich 1968). On another front, Tito sought to create a balance among 66 regional economies. In a strategy of "particularism" he developed poorer, local regions at national expense, most especially at that of the more advanced republics, namely Croatia and Slovenia. The national policy was committed to resolving cultural and economic imbalance: "The Party’s response to regional inequality was to declare it intolerable and to assign high priority to the quickest possible leveling of incomes... Equality was to be approached through ‘utilization for accumulation’ by the State in general and its redistribution" (Lang 1975:314).

At the expense, then, of the more affluent republics, the undeveloped regions of

Montenegro, Macedonia, Bosnia-Hercegovina, and parts of Serbia, were targeted as recipients of substantial domestic aid and assistance (King 1973; Zaninovich

1968).

However, plans for certain early reforms were altered by the break with

Stalin in 1948. After a nearly twenty-year long alliance, the split isolated

Yugoslavia ft"om the Soviet bloc and forced Tito to embark on a new course of socialism. Despite the fact that Tito’s socialism had been a rising star in the

Marxist-Leninist galaxy, Tito remained an independent-minded pragmatist who succeeded in alienating Stalin. He initiated the Balkan League, excluding Soviet membership, and he deviated from following Soviet economic policy to the letter.

Finally, concerned about growing overly dependent on the USSR, he grew increasingly wary of Soviet military and economic advisors (Ulam 1951;

Zaninovich 1968).

The split with Stalin enabled him to reconsider his political and economic policies. His new strategy stood as a reaffirmation of Marxist ideology and as a renewed commitment to strengthen Yugoslavia. In 1953, he initiated a program 67 of policy changes designed to simplify the political process and, subsequently, he developed a program of decentralization. He increased Party membership in order to reduce the gap between citizens and the leadership. He also worked to appease ethnic tension. In pursuit of his new course, Tito also expanded the base of international support, especially from the West. He adopted hard currency in place of the previous barter system used within the Soviet Bloc, and he withdrew his policy of particularism. Eventually, the democratic process was strengthened by a series of constitutional reforms begun in 1963 and a liberalization of economic policies which introduced market socialism was inaugurated. One prominent Yugoslav sociologist defines Yugoslav socialism as "a socioeconomic system based on equality... Equality in socialism is defined essentially and positively: the system is regulated by social action so that real equality is guaranteed to all members of society" (Horvat 1975:307-308). Horvat explains that the three primary sectors which are the foundation for such principals are: the labor arena (which includes the right to work, social ownership of production, and self-management of production); the consumer arena (which is based on the rights of labor, opportunity, and distribution of rewards); and the political arena

(which guarantees the right of democratic representation). He concludes that these areas are only means for equality, not ends in themselves:

They represent operationally defined spheres of man’s positive freedom in contemporary conditions of production. Socialism is both desirable and historically necessary for it represents an essential broadening of individual freedom. That is why self-management autonomy is the essential definition of socialism (Horvat 1975:310).

In particular, Slovenia and Croatia benefitted the most from economic policy changes, thereby reinforcing the pre-existent economic disparity which, along with 6 8 cultural differences, set them apart from the rest of the nation (Bridge 1975).

Summary

For the past forty years, Yugoslav socialism has pursued a multiple directed course in which social and cultural areas have been strenuously developed and aligned to ideology (Bridge 1975). Puppetry has reached unprecedented social prominence under state sponsorship. The institutionalization of official theaters was a calculated move which was well suited to specific, central, socialist educational and social goals. Yet, in reality, the position of puppeteers is not so clear cut. Their puppetry, while certainly earlier conforming to official policy, has remained very much involved in particularistic ethnic and national heritage.

Ethnic identity among the Slovenes and Croats is both limited to national pride and rooted in cultural history. For both regions, the overriding cultural bonds, aesthetic orientations, and social and organizational practices, which are based in its history, continue to shape the forms and expression of its arts.

Furthermore, while socialists worked to unify and provide social, economic, and political equality for all citizens, nationalism, which had only been temporarily quieted by Tito earlier, was continually resurfacing. Numerous politicians learned that nationalism could be used as an effective tool (Bridge 1975). StanovCié explains that here "nation" refers not to the central state but to the major ethnic groups and their political units and sets them apart from the ethnic minorities or nationalities. Moreover, he argues that "...nationalism in Yugoslavia does not mean Karl Deutsch’s ‘concern for fellow nationals, for countrymen,' but has a pejorative meaning similar to chauvinism" (1988:26). Conflicting national goals and ethnic orientations have been instrumental in steering Yugoslavia towards 69 decentralized self-management (Bridge 1975; Stanovcic 1988). The cost, however, remains great: "Although Yugoslavia’s multi-national character has aided resistance to an authoritarian state dominated system, the dense complexity of national interests has made the organization of democra

(Simonovié 1988:54).

During the course of my fieldwork I saw that many of the same ethnic, social, and political complications persist today and I observed puppeteers explain their work in relation to their perceptions of culture and community. Without attempting to chart the intricate course of Yugoslav history, I have sought to clarify how the overriding cultural bonds and tensions emerge to play a continual part in cultural activity such as puppetry. Many of these are historically rooted.

Others may be seen as more recent inventions based on custom and convention.

In the final analysis they have each been instrumental in shaping the look and expression of Slovene and Croat puppetry as well as in shaping how it is being communicated or chaimeled into society and with what intent and impact that is occurring today. CHAPTER V

THE DEVELOPMENT OF SLOVENE PUPPET THEATER

Introduction

In Chapter III introduced my interpretation of Yugoslav puppetry as

contemporary, meaningful expression and ritual through the research and

conclusions of Geertz, Turner, and Cohen. With this chapter and the next, I trace

the various social, artistic, and economic components which shaped Yugoslav

puppetry initially and which form its cultural base as it matures today. Secondly, I

examine the operational structures of two state theaters, the official performing

stages since 1948 when puppetry became further molded by socialist ideology and

supported through state economic and cultural policy. Since puppetry is, today,

on the cusp of change again, it is necessary to clarify its particular, hybrid

character in the context of questions posed by performers today. Thirdly, then, I will introduce puppeteers and festival organizers through their statements of

individual ideals, goals, and concerns.

Thus, these two chapters probe the persona and irmer mechanisms of

Yugoslav puppetry, establish its theater within the framework of cultural policy

and practice, and reveal the convictions of its agents as these individuals become increasingly responsible for the direction of puppet art. To begin the task I would first like to comment on what a puppet is and just how it works.

70 71

In competent hands a puppet is amusing, perhaps sly or engaging. In the hands of a master it is seductive, affecting our emotions and intellect both, allowing us to savor or to question what it is to be human.

...How can a head so sketchily made, so homely to look at up close, suddenly with the play of light take on a reality of expression far beyond its real dimension?... (one) completely forgets that you are not the same size as these little beings. You even forget that the voice they speak with is not their own. This impossible marriage between a head as large as my fist and a voice as loud as my own exists... so that I may enchant you little by little... [George Sand (In Baird, 1965:10)].

Obraztsov states its symbolic properties more succinctly: "The puppet is a metaphor for man" (UNIMA 1972:26). Of the properties which allow puppetry to simultaneously operate on different levels, a Yugoslav puppeteer reveals his own aims: "Who dares to determine what and how much children understand at a certain age and in a certain environment?... Let it stimulate and cultivate children’s creativity and fantasy." By their very nature, then, puppets embody

Cohen’s symbols: they are ambiguous, subject to individual interpretation, and able to convey multiple levels of meaning, only part of which need be comprehended to give the performance itself meaning. Moreover, these symbolic properties intensify the performance experience, thereby reinforcing puppetry’s value as a teaching tool.

Secondly, the puppet, an inanimate object brought to life through gesture or sound, performs through a pair of basic actions, communication through movement and transformation by the very act of animation. Puppets depend upon performance, since only in action does this transference take place, and upon an audience, the receiver of its message. Obraztsov perceived the dynamics between figure, performance, and audience as intrinsic: "The puppet is a plastic 72

generalization of a living being: man, reindeer, dove... The process by which the

inanimate becomes animate seems to the audience a real miracle... This miracle

is what makes the art of puppetry different from the plastic arts, which are static,

and at the same time places it in the category of the spectacle, of dynamic art"

(1972:18). Others who argue that puppet action supersedes dialogue theorize that

puppetry’s power lies in movements that "reach veins of feeling in us that are

deeper than words."

Whether a play involves much banter or sparse dialogue, its puppets operate

according to one of two kinds of manipulation. The most elementary puppets are

those which are physical extensions of the performer’s body. Common hand

puppets. Punch or Guignol for example, consist of a hollow head, arms through

which the actor’s fingers are spaced, and a torso covered by loose clothing. Tiny

finger puppets or gloved hands performing as puppets are well-known variations.

A second group are puppets manipulated by means of an artificial device, such as

a stick, rods, or multiple strings. Shadow puppets and even the bunraku Japanese

puppets, a single figure manually operated by three actors while a fourth narrates

the story, are members of this category as well.

While there is no code for each movement or technique, puppeteers are in

agreement that meaning backs each gesture however gentle or broad. Most puppeteers also fashion their puppets to exaggerate rather than duplicate human action, and, consequently, puppet performances, while lifelike, are never intended to be studies in realism. Baird comments on this distinction: "A puppet must always be more than his live counterpart - simpler, sadder, more wicked, more supple," adding "The puppet is an essence and an emphasis" (1965:15). Many 73

artists note the puppet’s native independence which allows the puppet to become

a creature in his own right (Baird 1965).

In an extension of this concept, semiotic theorists explain the way sign

systems communicate by differentiating among the specific codes transmitted

through a particular process, and conclude that puppetry involves a number of

simultaneous, complex codes. These are synchronized in performance (Green and

Pepicello 1983). Other theorists address puppetry as the most ideally integrated

or total art, citing its seamless interlacing of drama, design, music, dance, and text

(Szilagy, UNIMA 1972:35).

Of its universal appeal, Korolov finds meaning in its half plastic/half

dramatic character, and Szilagy interprets the puppet as a primordial symbol

(UNIMA: 1972:33-35). Both suggest that puppetry involves serious intent and

serves as an expression of a particular value or truth, whether individual or

cultural. Such a precept signifies that the puppet is imparted with a soul as well

as mobility: "Lacking any lasting spirituality, it arouses no emotion in us and we

are merely curious... they must not be a model of the human body and the human

mind but must condense, synthesize all that is essential" (Obraztsov 1972:20). It is

a mark of the puppeteers’ ingenuity that they express value or truth in the most

effective yet least obtrusive manner. Sometimes this is accomplished through

design or narrative, at other times with a simple refrain or precise movement.

Two auxiliary properties support this. According to Obraztsov, puppetry should be topical, "... an organic expression of an idea that springs from life itself, from the present day" (1972). Indeed, some performers view the projection of social meaning as one of the Quixotic goals of serious puppetry. Moreover, 74

serious puppeteers seek to persuade their audiences that the ideas presented

could receive meaning only through puppet performance. A further extension of

this canon is the appraisal of a puppet’s mortality; that is, that puppets are not

designed to hold enduring meaning. If a puppet lives too long and outlasts its

original purpose or relevation, it becomes a relic, an artifact of the past (Baird

1965). Such insights are important for artists committed to preserving traditional

culture as well as intent on injecting new strains into puppetry.

Recently, the tension between customary art and irmovation has intensified

and continues to accelerate. One consequence is that the artistic arena has

expanded rapidly on numerous levels. What excited Yugoslav puppeteers during

last year’s PIF Festival may already be influencing local performers in distant

Maribor or suburban Dubrava. In light of its developing network, it is necessary

to frame puppetry’s evolution from traditional rural performance to an urban art form and international festival participant into accurate context.

European Puppet Tradition and Its Yugoslav Legacy

Slovene and Croat puppetry are at once distinctly culture specific and

indicative of deeper modem cultural patterns. Their developmental processes

have been cumulative ones that often involve seeming paradoxes or conflicts.

Three features of Yugoslav puppet development need clarification. First, stylistic

changes in design, narrative, and performance technique echo broader cultural

change while changes of theme, symbol, and meaning anticipate those broader changes. Secondly, Slovene and Croat puppetry continually waver between respected, folk tradition and popular, contemporary trends. The boundaries 75 between the two were continually stretched and crossed in the puppetry I observed. Thirdly, Slovene puppetry in particular succinctly exposes the ongoing tension between cultural custom and individual expression. Thus it becomes clear that puppetry not only fosters diversity, but that Yugoslav puppetry is currently thriving on artistic experimentation and exchange. Moreover, because puppetry is intrinsically a social art, its capacity for extracting new elements from other sources is one of its driving forces. At the same time because professional

Yugoslav puppetry is now integrated into the larger state theater, its deftness in merging new accents into prescribed form provides constant challenges.

Slovene and Croat puppetry are built upon various styles and traditions. The first part of this chapter assesses the specific contributions of its sources, from noted intellectuals, traveling players who roamed the Continent, seminal artistic trends coming out of Paris, Prague, and Munich, and native folk elements which have generated informal attitudes and aesthetics as well as specific texts and characters. Guided by Yugoslavia’s multinational composition and by the continuing dominance of ethnic issues, I suggest that this puppetry development is best understood in specific, national context. Consequently this chapter probes puppetry within Slovenia where folk traditions and the contributions of individual artist/brokers appear to be strongest. Its corollary. Chapter VI, focuses on the post war institutionalization of theater in Croatia under Tito’s socialism and drive for kultura. It is my contention that while sharing first like European influences and later like socialist conventions, the cultural roots in Slovenia and Croatia remain distinct and that, therefore, the puppet arts they foster differ in sensibility, texture, ambition, and symbolism. 76

According to Jurkowski, European puppetry has been a singularly open

system, receptive of external influences and thus constantly evolving (1983). In

comparison, he defines Chinese theater as a closed system operating on

prescribed designs which are aligned to the formal social structure. These closed

systems reflect a highly compartmentalized society and also puppetry’s own clearly

designated role within it. European puppetry’s past is vastly more fickle and

spotty, and it provides a far greater variety of performances and purposes (1983).

For example, in ancient Greece, puppets performed in both mimes and on

the dramatic stage. Throughout medieval Europe itinerant players entertained at fairs, in churchyards, and at market places. By the ninth century, puppets represented Christ (earlier symbolized as the Lamb of God), and by the twelfth century they were known as "little Maries" or marionettes and were a popular means of narrating Biblical stories to illiterate peasants. The transference from the street to the sanctuary legitimized puppetry and, secondly, developed it as an art form. Puppeteers were no longer confidence men but respectable citizens and clerics. Puppet manipulation became more sophisticated in its ritual context, and a premium was placed on precision and competence over animation for the sake of action (Baird 1965; Malkin 1977).

Yet puppets remained true to their nature, even in sacred tableaux.

Ironically, where once puppets replaced humans considered too profane for sacred drama, by the thirteenth century, puppets revealed themselves too vulgar to play moral roles and they were evicted from the church. Back in the streets, the puppets’ comic nature and propensity for satire gained a wide following. Known as "motions" in Shakespeare’s day, they drew their audiences from peasants and 77

nobility alike. Eventually, their popularity helped reinstate them into the church,

this time performing "mystery" and "miracle" plays now in the vernacular and

Latin both (Baird 1965; Malkin 1977).

Further developments in design, staging, and narrative took place during the

Renaissance. Puppets were liberated from a fixed position in a single scene and,

as settings grew more realistic, puppets were expected to appear totally lifelike.

Artifice thrived and puppet dramas became exercises in intellectualized

movement. A century later, puppets evolved again when performers sought to

realign plays with the puppets' intrinsic abilities. New characters and roles

maximizing the puppets’ potential were designed specifically for puppet theater

for the first time. Commedia dell’Arte, which introduced an endearing cast of players, Pulchinella, Arlecchino, and Scaramouche, set standards for shaping the

tone and quality of this new direction (Baird 1965; Jurkowski 1983).

Puppet theater as we think of it today came of age during the seventeenth

and eighteenth centuries when puppets were adopted by the aristocracy. While hand puppets flourished on the streets in fi-ont of working class audiences, marionettes became the playthings of the nobility and court theaters were designed fi"om Belgium and Italy to Poland and the Hapsburg estates. Class distinction marked differences in speech, tone, humor and violence as well as form and technique (Pasqualino 1979). Shortly thereafter, carved wooden figures appeared on Russian fairgrounds and were then introduced into the salons of

Moscow and St. Petersburg. While the upper class favored marionettes, the peasants were intrigued by verteps. a fixed tableaux representing the Nativity which was set in elaborate, carved boxes and had been adapted from the popular 78

Polish szopkas (Warner 1977). Throughout Eastern Europe these figures have

symbolized Slavic culture and, once virtually extinct in the post war years under

communist rule, they resurfaced as symbols of protest and religion first in Poland

and then elsewhere throughout the 1970s and 1980s.

At roughly the same time a puckish rogue roved across the Continent

delighting audiences with his antics and knack for survival. Known under

different guises, as Kasper, Punch, and Petrushka, these characters were spin-offs

of Commedia dell’Arte’s beloved Pulchinella. With remarkable dexterity, he

assumed a distinctly different cultural persona, changing speech, predicaments,

and personality as well as appearance according to social context. Nevertheless

some underlying qualities and symbols retained their conunonality, linking them

even further to early pagan masques and agrarian rituals: Pulchinella, Punch, and

Kasper are complex, ambiguous figures of black and white who simultaneously

represent birth and death, fertility and sterility, male and female (Pasqualino

1983).

However varied, these simple wooden and cloth figures which entertained, bonded, informed, and probably educated great numbers of ordinary folk and gentry are the main sources of modem puppetry. As travel improved and as the great empires expanded, puppet players circulated quickly from region to region, often establishing themselves into local custom and codes. While Yugoslav artists downplay or deny any native puppet traditions, this mixed company of pagan symbols, Christian values and narratives, popular personalities and gradually refined artistic sensibilities all intersected and fed directly into South Slav artistic and community activity. In this, it is indicative of the distinctly composite 79 character of Yugoslav culture, one that continues to expand:

Yugoslavia is seeking and finding its own road between East and West, between central European and Oriental cultural traditions, between the burden of its legacies and modem views, between periodically altering ups and downs. Indeed, "between" is the word used most often when trying to explain Yugoslav reality to a foreigner (Zecevic 1987).

The subsequent and more defined shaping of modem puppet theater on the

Continent results more from the timely, individual contributions of a few performers and artists rather than any amorphous popular trend. In Germany,

France, Italy, and Czechoslovakia in particular, a few established artists, attuned to the potential of puppet theater, began expeiimenting with form, movement, and technique. Ivo Puhonny, internationally known illustrator and co-founder of the journal, "Graphics," set up what was to become an influential puppet theater in

Munich. Josef Skupa, a Czech classicist and artist, converted the Punch-Kasper character into a national personality, Hurvink, who was showcased in Prague’s major theaters. Their performances encouraged countless others and soon amateur theaters were springing up throughout southern Germany, Slovenia, Italy,

Czechoslovakia, and Poland so that puppetry began acquiring new meaning as artistic and community activity (Malkin 1977). It is this local support and commitment which laid the foundations and tradition of theater which transferred into state theater systems after 1948.

In an interesting parallel development rod puppets were introduced to

European audiences by Belgian traders a century earlier. They were influenced by Javanese puppets which were highly stylized, expressive, and exotic. Yet they never quite caught on in Europe until they were adopted by two Russian artists who virtually singlehandedly established the rod puppet and the idea of children’s 80 educational puppetry in the Soviet Union. The concept of puppetry as a teaching tool became one of the founding principles behind the organization of puppet theaters for children throughout Eastern Europe (Baird 1965).

By the mid-1920s puppetiy was rapidly advancing on a number of local and increasingly influential fronts. In 1927, the first steps to promote puppet art on an international level were undertaken at a meeting at Puhonny’s Baden studio.

Delegates from Czechoslovakia, Poland, France, and Britain committed themselves to encouraging artistic communication and exchange by setting up an official puppet organization. The following year the Union International de

Marionettes Association (UNIMA) formally convened in Paris. In the plurality of its charter UNIMA reflects the idealism of the League of Nations, and its creation signals the swelling of artistic solidarity among Europeans during the post-war era.

UNIMA’s founding president and first secretary were, significantly, Czech artists and it is also prescient that Ljubljana was the chosen site for the Third Congress.

The 1929 convention was the last major festival for the next thirty years. Plans to convene in Chicago during the World’s Fair were discarded by the European puppeteers caught in the escalating economic and political crises of the mid­ thirties. Despite its early visible role Yugoslavia was, until recently, a less active member of UNIMA. It continued to fashion itself on the styles of others and then it attempted to integrate those with earlier rural motifs, values, and symbols. 81

Early Slovene Puppets and Folk Traditions

Research conducted by Dr. Niko Kuret, a Slovene ethnographer and puppeteer, challenged the opinion that foreign puppets were the only principal influences on later puppetiy. Dr. Kuret’s findings helped establish the context, meaning, and flavor of early rural puppetiy and it is important to assess its relationship to current puppet form and practice.

Unlike the Punch cousins, these primitive folk dramas known as "Helenas" lacked any central identifiable character; yet, very much like the Punch-Kasper comedies they are grounded in the details of daily life and revolve around a few, key motifs: property lines, daily chores, taxes. According to Dr. Kuret’s findings, the plays inevitably culminated in confrontation and the kind of manic, comic brawl that hand puppets excel in. What is most remarkable about these performances for our purpose, however, was the conscious and frequent interaction between the puppets and the human actor which occurred on several levels. First, the actor served as an arbitrator between two contentious puppets and, second, the actor or narrator elicited a closing verdict directly from his audience. Thus in one puppet play, "Pravda za mejo" ('Trial for the border") believed to have survived from the eighteenth century, the puppeteer acts as the judge and attempts (ineffectually) to mediate between two squabbling farmer puppets. Another technique is one in which, "a player acts out in pantomime whatever the public shouts to him. The public is often divided into two groups which investigate the farmers’ arguing about the property lines." (Verdel 1987:4).

Thus, performer, character, and narrative are fully incorporated into the community, and the audience is expected to take part in the drama. It is almost a 82 ritualization of the "social dramas" Turner interprets as symbolic occasions for rural and urban cultures (Turner 1982). Providing relief from daily labor, such ritual plays also allowed peasants an opportunity to reassess very basic concerns.

While Verdel maintains that this puppetry, isolated in time and location, has virtually no bearing on modern puppet theater, I interpret three conventions as being carried over into contemporary performances. First, there is thematic parallel between the folk and contemporary puppetry: early plays were involved in land disputes, later ones in confrontation over possessions, title or status, between wives and fairy sprites, between a dead husband and a wealthy miller, or between an ambitious queen and her courtiers. Secondly, they share the element of direct audience interaction. Whether in small groups or on a formal stage, most Slovene puppetry I observed involved responses more specific than a perfunctory yes or no. Thirdly, they contain an intrinsic element of distance, of purposeful separation of some sort. In the folk plays this occurs paradoxically through the interaction between puppets and humans which creates a certain semiotic distance. In current productions at the LGL another kind of distancing is established by the customary use of two sets of actors (one to manipulate the puppets and one to narrate) for each performance. Semiotics places meaning on such devices of communication, and I suggest that this element of Slovene puppetry, which renders it somewhat more formal and detached, cormects to other

Slovene cultural practices and patterns which will be discussed later.

The Making of Modem Slovene Puppetry

The Lutkovna GledaliSCe Ljubljana or the LGL as the City Puppet Theater is called, faces the central outdoor market that lines the river in the very heart of 83

the city. The theater is housed in half of the former Town Hall, a stalwart, still

impressive building which evokes Austrian rule. The puppetry inside, however,

underscores a far more complex and ambiguous heritage.

Today the theater, one of the most prominent among sixteen state puppet

theaters throughout the Yugoslav Federation, employs over thirty full-time

performers, technicians, designers, handymen, and seamstresses. It prides itself on

being one of the most professional of theaters and its players have performed in

noted festivals throughout Europe and Asia. Yet forty years ago there was no

company, twenty years ago only scant recognition, and even as recently as ten

years ago, no theater proper. Comprehending how amateur puppetry was

nurtured into such prized theater is instrumental in recognizing prevalent cultural

ideals, policies, and practices.

While the influence of folk puppetry on current performances may be a

subtle one - of a style or approach and manner of play - rather than a direct

one, today’s puppeteers are committed to making a mark on future Slovene

culture. They are doing so on individual, community, and to some extent

international levels. In this endeavor they have enlisted a plurastic base of

support, almost a cross-section of key cultural leaders and citizens, including

educators, teachers, community brokers, the Cultural Commissions, festival

organizers, some major corporations, and the public at large. While the state theaters are the direct beneficiaries of this cumulative support, Slovene puppeteers tend to be enough of a closely knit group so that there is an unusual flow of promotion and even stimulation between professionals and their amateur colleagues. 84

Thus, in order to examine the dynamics of Slovene puppetry it is salient to

assess the specific social, economic, and political forces motivating it and how the

particular relationship which evolved is shaping it currently. I am examining its

early and current appeal to the community, focusing specifically on what resources

pre-existed and were then reinforced or reinvented after 1948. Finally it is

necessary to try to determine the direction these developments are leading

puppetry into today.

Five features which have consistently nurtured Slovene puppetry for over

sixty years and which are today forces reshaping it as Slovenia itself is being recast

are: the endeavor of key artists who serve as cultural brokers; the strengthening

of an active amateur base; the cultivation of native Slovene texts; the emphasis on

incorporating puppetry into education; and the identification of puppet artistry with ethnic heritage and world-view. It will be important to assess, too, how these

distinguish Slovene puppetry from other national puppet art and practices.

Elsewhere in Yugoslavia, in Croatia specifically, puppetry may have developed

through one or several of these factors; Slovene puppetry, I believe, has

accelerated because of them. Furthermore, it is due to their fertile, corporate usage as symbols which culturally distinguish Slovenia from its sister republics that

it is conscientiously maintained today. Thus, despite the artistic, structural, and political restrictions manifest in the state supported system, Slovene puppetry

continues to prosper, creatively and economically, while other national puppetry survives only because of the system’s supporting framework.

Artist as Cultural Broker

The role of the individual who purposefully either initiates ethnic or other 85

group mobilization or channels such previous efforts is currently evaluated by a

number of anthropologists assessing power relations (Berger 1972; Cohen 1980;

Esman 1975; King 1973). Identifying these brokers first by their particular

markings, secondly by their position within the existent cultural lineage, and then

evaluating their operational means and, finally, their effectiveness, gives

dimension to the dynamics between cultural activity and political order.

At the core of a small group of individuals prominent in fostering modem

Slovene puppetry, three artists serve as brokers effectively: Milan KlemenCiC, today regarded as Slovene puppetry’s founding father, Jo2e Pengov, who renewed puppetry’s momentum in the post-war drive for kultura. and Edi Majaron, who currently stretches the aesthetic and political perimeters of puppet theater. While

KlemenCiC and Pengov were representative of contemporaries who molded puppetry through their own personalities and creative drive, Majaron is perhaps something more of a maverick, seeking to expose Slovene and other Yugoslav puppetry to new range and depth rather than to define a singular style.

All three share, however, a commitment to preserving their Slovene heritage, specifically language, artistic prominence, and cultural integrity. As artists, they prize puppets in and of themselves and grasp both their aesthetic dimensions and potential for symbolic expression. Precisely because they understand puppetry sui generis, their puppet art is effective as ritual as well as entertainment. Their finest achievements express rich metaphors. Fourthly, they successfully generated different levels of community contribution, support instrumental in propagating their art and in securing its present niche.

KlemenCiC’s ascent early in the century coincides with Slovenia’s emergence 86

out of its Hapsburg cocoon. Intellectuals, many of whom had studied abroad,

resolved to enter the cultural mainstream they sampled in London, Paris, and

Berlin. KlemenSiC had already established himself as a painter when, smitten by

a traveling puppet performance, he shifted his energies to puppet art. Creating a

private theater in his home in Stuije around 1910 and assisted there by family and

friends, KlemenCiC adapted such celebrated Pulchninella texts as "The Dead Body

in the Red Coat," and readily borrowed from Italian tradition (Verdel 1987).

Simple, yet witty and appealing, such performances alone could not stimulate

Slovene puppetry, rather they provided KlemenCiC with his first steps for creating

formal puppet theater.

A second influence transpired during a seminar in Munich when KlemenCiC

met Josef "Papa" Schmidt and Franz Pocci. Pocci’s own theater comfortably

interwove folk tales and motifs into the Kasper frame (Baird 1965). Adapting

Pocci’s formula, KlemenCiC transformed the German Kasper into a Slovene

character, Gaspercek, at first something of a novelty in Slovene theater. Edi

Majaron explained, "We hadn’t a hero though we had some peasant folk heroes but not so much for puppets." Shortly thereafter, war erupted throughout Europe, virtually silencing puppet activity in Slovenia for nearly a decade.

In 1920, KlemenCiC reopened his puppet company, now called the Mestno lutkovno gledalisce, "The Puppet Theater of Ljubljana Town" (in the same town hall the LGL is housed today) under sponsorship of the new crown. Continually experimenting with narrative and technique, KlemenCiC tried to imbue his peasant hero with more personality and social meaning. Eventually he discarded

Gaspercek, partially in response to prevalent anti-German sentiment after the war 87

and partially in an effort to create a more distinctly Slovene puppet. According to

the historian, Verdel, few German texts translated adroitly into Slovenian: the

humor suffered and the hero, once droll and captivating, appeared doltish,

provincial (Verdel 1987:10-11). In addition, KlemenCiC and his writer, Jarc, never

managed to weave the Gaspercek/ Kasper character into familiar tales, including

Snow White, without his appearing contrived or simplistic. "Jarc elevated Kasper

above everybody else, put him outside the socioeconomic realism. This is the reason Kasper stayed without color" (Verdel 1987:10).

KlemenCiC soon turned elsewhere for inspiration. At a time when the

Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes was securing ties with, among others,

Czechoslovakia, itself a newly formed republic, Czech culture grew increasingly influential among its Slovene neighbors. Three symbols attest to this cultural bond. Slovene artists adopted the emblem of the Czech puppet union, the hawk, for their own, thereby expressing common leftist political sentiments as well, according to Majaron. Secondly, Czech marionettes supplanted German puppets when KlemenCiC, after attending a seminar which led to the formation of

UNIMA in Prague, created a new hero, Jurcek (little George) based on popular

Czech puppets (Verdel 1987). Thirdly - and most significantly - Slovenes acquired an active interest in amateur puppetry, an interest clearly stimulated by the ever widening Czech sphere of influence.

Moreover, in the period after the dissolution of the Austro-Hungarian empire years of national realignments, several thousand Czech immigrated into

Slovenia and soon Czech puppeteers were performing for Czech and Slovene audiences from Maribor to Ljubljana. These performances prompted municipal 8 8 authorities tocry for Slovene entertainment for Slovene children. Soon an increasing number of Slovene puppeteers appeared at community gatherings and on local stages. SOKOL, an athletic club of Czech origin, dedicated to youth and patriotism, was one of the key outlets for many first-time performers. These amateur productions were reportedly upbeat, idealistic, and fairly didactic: witches, dragons, and other scary folklore standards were excised, replaced with a high dosage of morality and pat narratives. In the period between the two world wars, over forty-three amateur groups are estimated to have been active and that practice, the very level of activity rather than the plays themselves, is what has surfaced as meaningful to Slovene puppet dynamics today.

Ironically, as Slovene puppetry was finding new voice, KlemenCiC’s theater was threatened by waning official interest and funding. In 1924, the dispirited puppeteer abandoned the theater altogether, resuming his painting and supporting himself, as he had done before the war, as a law clerk. At the close of a decade once filled with personal and cultural potential, KlemenCiC outlined four unresolved problems he saw draining Slovene puppetry’s vitality and prohibiting further development: that a shortage of good (especially Slovene) texts continually limited growth; that puppeteers were both undertrained and overstretched; that theater space remained inadequate and costly; and that despite community interest the theater could not function without sufficient sponsorship and revenue. His suggestions for remedying the situation are perhaps even more prescient today as Slovene puppeteers again seek new direction and organization.

He argued in favor of securing a financial base for puppet theater, of enforcing fixed salaries for performers, of instituting separate positions for Director, 89

Assistant Director, and Managing Director, of providing viable rehearsal and

performance space; and, finally, of finding the incentive to encourage Slovene

fablists and dramatists to submit original texts (Verdel 1987).

Yet, in retrospect, KlemenCiC underestimated puppetry’s general advances

which we can distinguish from his personal achievements. First, KlemenCiC did

secure an urban niche for formal puppet theater out of a relative vacuum. Even

after his withdrawal from town at the end of the 1920s, it is interesting to note

that the theater was leased by ATENA, a women’s gymnastic club which

continued puppet performances for several years until leasing the space to the

Boy Scouts. Their rudimentary puppetiy concluded the first phase of puppet

organization in Ljubljana. Secondly, through KlemenCiC’s practice, marionettes

emerged as the dominant technique and acquired true form, supplanting the hand

puppets of folk and popular Italian puppetry. KlemenCiC himself is recognized as

the master of miniature marionettes, carved figures measuring six to eight inches

tall, and it was with these puppets that he made his last private performances in

1936 and which are celebrated as classics today. Thirdly, while his theater closed with more of a whimper, when puppetry was revived after the war, it was in the

spirit of maintaining KlemenCiC’s "tradition," one synonymous with aesthetic

standards, dedication, and the marionette style.

Like KlemenCiC, Jo2e Pengov, who carried Slovene puppetry into its next

major phase with the establishment of the LGL in 1948, was one of a number of

committed puppeteers who emerged as a leader among his colleagues. A consummate perfectionist, he is remembered by puppeteers who trained under him as the kind of director who knew how to extract the best from his performers 90 and how to creatively synthesize or channel their talents. He is, moreover, regarded as an innovator by the present staff of the LGL and they frequently recreate his standards and techniques for contemporary performances. Finally, he is credited with re-entering Slovene puppetry into the mainstream of European theater after a lapse of nearly thirty years.

Pengov’s initiation into puppetry was uncharacteristically modest. Trained as an engineer, he joined a small touring company shortly after the war. While he had begun performing before 1940, he, along with other puppeteers, submitted to official requests that they remain "quiet" during the occupation. Despite an inauspicious start when puppetry was loosely cormected with the budding youth organization, "Young Pioneers," which served as the backdrop for numerous performances, Pengov set about transforming informal practice into cultural institution at a remarkably swift and successful pace. In 1950, with only two performances to their name, Pengov and his associates reached an accord with the city which provided the LGL with its own stage for a marionette theater. In 1951 he was promised a second, additional stage that gave the puppeteers adequate space for rehearsal and the opportunity to double the number of performances.

Pengov developed puppetry in the fifties with a set of solid resources: guaranteed state funding and ideological support, a talented, ambitious young staff, and a certain level of local appreciation for art and artistic endeavor. The company matched its potential, creating twenty-four plays within its first decade. Of the forty plays produced by the LGL before his death in 1968, Pengov was directly responsible for twenty-two. He oversaw numerous others, encouraging protegees, such as his talented lutkas designer, Mara Kralj, to collaborate with other rezija 91 who worked in tandem at the theater.

The LGL’s first official production "Udarna Brigada" was a simple war story

steeped in patriotism. "Martin Krpn," their second play produced two years later

and based on an old Slovene folk tale, marked an artistic and critical turning point for the young staff. It was a vivid, full-bodied dramatization of the rustic youth who triumphs over foreign rulers. Pengov’s second contribution, "Èogica

Marogica" ("Little Striped Bouncing Ball," 1951), the metaphor of a child/ball who strays into the world beyond her doorstep, set new artistic standards by its clarity, precision, and delicacy. Its production established Pengov as a master puppeteer.

In 1988, the puppets were brought out of storage for a special anniversary performance, and, although slightly worn, they projected humor, warmth, and gentle charm. This play, today considered a classic, was based on a text by the

Czech puppeteer, Jan Malik, and Pengov’s subsequent work reveals a strong

Czech influence. Pengov liberally adapted other Czech texts for later productions.

Equally as significant, he transposed Czech artistic taste and sensibility onto these and other performances, thereby establishing a distinctive Slovene style. It is one marked by delicacy of movement and characterization, and it has come to be recognized as the very soul of Slovene tradition. .

By directing his theater according to these aesthetics, Pengov Europeanized

Slovene puppetry. In so doing, he effectively isolated the folksy hero Jurcek and his later self, Pavliha. In reality these characters were more of a pastiche of rural characteristics and urban perceptions of them than either genuine folk or ethnic heroes, and Pengov’s dismissal of them was by no means a rejection of any folk traditions. Pengov consistently sought to incorporate a variety of folk elements 92

and themes into puppet performances over the course of his tenure at the LGL.

Vestiges of folk life permeated "Martin Krpn" in his peasant garb and broad black

hat; "Vuk in Kozlicki" ("Wolf and Seven Goats") with its straw set depicting a

rural farmyard; or "Sinja Ptica" ("Blue Bird") and the thatched peasant cottages

contrasting with the king’s chambers.

By incorporating such folk elements into puppetry, Pengov maintained ties to

the countryside, enriched the texture of his plays, and juxtaposed these to the

artistry with which he realized his performances. Pengov reinterpreted Czech

style in order to align it more closely with contemporary Slovene experience.

These contributions are valued today:

Pengov... placed our puppetry side-by-side with European currents. He established the aesthetic principles which, in many respects, still hold today... standards which in the 1960s lifted Yugoslav puppetry from its emotional state (Slovene professional puppeteer).

Secondly, he secured a niche for puppet art within the city of Ljubljana at large

and, more intimately, within its inner artistic community. Pengov successfully

channeled known artists into the theater. One veteran at the theater explained,

"Jo2e Pengov was the first in Yugoslavia who specially invited famous artists to

collaborate on special puppet projects... France Mihelic, a famous painter interested in masks, worked on his 1964 "Sinja Ptica" from Maeterlinck." In addition, Pengov trained a cadre of young talented puppeteers, providing them with work both on stage and behind the scenes, and instilling them with his standards which they maintained after his death. Today, several of these apprentices are serving as mentors to a third or fourth generation of local puppeteers.

Pengov’s work coincided with other cultural developments: the rise of other 93 state puppet theaters in Yugoslavia; the inception of national festivals, such as

Sibenik, designed to serve as a public showcase of the state’s productivity; and, the resurrection of UNIMA’s international network. As a result, his performances found a wider audience than perhaps anticipated in 1948. His influence was also widespread:

Pengov was the first selector for Sibenik festival and his selections traveling through Yugoslavia was of great importance because productions of Ljubljana were an example to all Yugoslavs (Slovene professional puppeteer).

Thus both KlemenCiC and Pengov, men of contrasting temperaments and of different times, are considered the founders of contemporary Slovene puppetry.

What distinguishes them as brokers of the puppetry of their colleagues is the range of their influence, their skills in drafting the support and interest of a broader community, and their multiple contacts with an international set, all of which are as important as their substantial artistic contributions.

Edi Majaron is the contemporary puppeteer who inherited the master role of artist/agent from Pengov. As a child he performed at the bedside of an infirm classmate who had been given a set of hand puppets; later, in 1954, he and his brother, Zdenko, organized a small amateur troupe, which, although he left in the mid-1970s, remains active today.

At the same time I worked at the professional City Puppet Theater, then led by Jo2e Pengov. In 1955, he entrusted to me my first role in Niko Kuret’s play "Cat in Boots"... I was curious by nature and wanted to improve everything I did. In this way, I maintained a strong relationship with Pengov (Edi Majaron).

From the LGL’s master he learned not only technical skills or how to stage a performance but also how to distill the central concept of the puppet play:

Later under Pengov’s influence we made puppets according to the drawings of a well-known painter whose ‘manuscripts’ suited the message of the script. 94

The ‘manuscript’ was then translated into puppet technologr, which was always different since we always tried to find the technical solution that was the most appropriate for the message. With that we began a change that is still veiy important today. Until then the practice was to find a script that would fit a certain standard puppetry technique (Edi Majaron 1986).

Indeed, Majaron’s very code as well as standards of puppetry are directly aligned

to Pengov’s philosophy:

The object of puppetry directing is to make a puppet performance in a particular way with the help of the puppetry’s means of expression, I intentionally don’t say: "a puppetry performance with puppets," because it has a narrower meaning, one of only a part of what we understand as puppetry art. The basis for such performance is a metaphor - a thing is given the role of a stage person. The basic task of the puppetry director is to respect the puppet as a stage person and to believe in its performance. Only in this way can we serve him adequately on the stage in the shaping of a modem performance. Of course we must know why precisely a puppet and why this one and not a different one (Edi Majaron 1986).

The relationship between guiding concept and puppet is one which

necessarily elevates puppetry over simple play, and it is one present in meaningful

puppet theater whether amateur or professional, popular or folk, Slavic or Asian.

What distinguishes Slovene puppetiy under the guidance of these three cultural

brokers is that they invested creative energy into probing that relationship - and

encouraged their colleagues to do so as well - rather than adapting known

formulas to contemporary needs and current situations.

Beyond the degree of artistry, beyond the quality of a performance, what

separates contemporary or modern Slovene puppetry from its folk cousins is the

depth with which it investigates the possibilities within each germ of an idea.

Themes and motifs may be handed down within a community, techniques may be learned first-hand from a mentor, but the contemporary artist must cultivate the dynamism between performance and its underlying rationale. That the design becomes process for Majaron is apparent in the intensity of his plaiming sessions 95 and rehearsals.

A director is like an urban planner, an architect who creates in his mind his first plan for a building. In every other respect, however, creative collaboration among the members of the entire creative team in a puppet show is more important than on the tig ’ stage. The first co-worker ought to be the dramaturge... Together we find reason for taking up a project through the medium of puppets. We study the possible ways of producing the performance and eliminate those which lead us away from the agreed upon keypoint (Edi Majaron 1986).

He continues:

Here other coworkers enter the picture... I like to work with the plastic artist who takes charge of all plastic elements in a performance - puppets, costumes, scenery, possibly even lighting. He joins in the discussions with the dramaturge and suggests his own solutions, his own plastic plan helps in the interpretation of the project... Decisive help in bringing the plastic artist’s ideas to suitable, functional realization is rendered by the technician, whose function in setting up the performance is not only functional but creative... In short, my role is to select co-workers who can creatively work together toward the common goal of a performance where their shares intertwine into a indivisible whole (Edi Majaron 1986).

Majaron readily credits numerous influences with shaping his role and orientation. As a youth he read Stanislavsky and later, as a young musician training in Czechoslovakia, he sought out the puppet masters of Prague. His interest in Czech puppetry reflects the sensibilities of his Slovene mentor, demonstrating the value of an artistic network and pointing to the appeal of

Czech culture, especially in the 1960s, during the period of great experimentation in Prague theater. Of the formative and sometimes diverse influences he encountered, Majaron explained:

While I was watching different performances, especially at the Sibenik festival where Czech and Polish puppeteers gave very interesting workshops, I enriched my modest experience with theoretical and practical knowledge. Thus my study in Prague was only a logical continuation of my acquaintances with the Havliks, Dr. Malik, and Dr. Eric Kolar. The latter, as a vice dean, made possible for me to observe the work at the puppetry department at the university with Jan Dvorak and others. My association with the younger generation helped me to shake off the influence of people who represented 96

institutions (Edi Majaron 1986).

Both his exposure to Czech theater and his own early training at the Academy of

Music are evidenced in the primary characteristics of his work: the precision, the synthesis of music with narrative and movement, and the full individuality of tone.

Without reviewing his productions, I will outline these specific elements because they illuminate several general Slovene patterns and because they place his role as innovator and agent into context. Majaron’s work may be evaluated for its own artistic merits, how it brings the work of KlemenCiC, Pengov and his own contemporaries into focus and how it reveals some basic currents of contemporary Slovene puppetry. Paradoxically as Slovene puppetry becomes more inner focused and increasingly stands as a symbol of Slovene culture, its most visible artist/agent is simultaneously active in a host of other Yugoslav towns. Moreover as Yugoslavs enter the festival circuit it is advantageous to be represented abroad by a knowledgeable artist, yet the question remains: how do artists maintain a relationship with their own local community?

It is interesting to observe how other Slovene puppeteers regard the dual artist/broker role Majaron pursues. A few Slovenes expressed an ambiguous mixture of part esteem and part curious distance at Puppet Art/88 when four of the twelve Yugoslav plays were Majaron productions. My guess is that they are not exactly sure how to regard his transference of Slovene aesthetic standards, as distinct from Slovene artistic taste and tradition, to non-Slovene puppet theaters and, in so doing, stirring up more than a little competition. In this light, then, it is necessary to bear in mind Majaron’s working plans which center around the idea of cooperative venture, of building with existent creative talent and of developing 97

each puppeteer’s own potential. For this, members of smaller provincial troupes

are especially eager, as one related:

When we heard at first that we were not to do classics and [perform behind the paravan screen] we are not good [pleased]... we also self-conscious... we have no schooling, no training of puppetry, we were all amateurs and we do not working with our left hands. But now [when] we work, we work - and we like this working.

I observed this practice and the results of his demands at a performance of

"Little Red Riding Hood" by three puppeteers from Mostar during one of the

informal oceanside performances which are a part of Sibenik’s great charm. By

turning the story on its head and then inside out, the puppeteers gave three versions of the tale, each requiring control, flexibility, and presence as they elicited both acceptance and participation from their audience. Within this seemingly worn tale, Majaron interwove and juxtaposed given motifs into new texture as he unfolded the story successfully from each of the major participant’s point of view and created three different sets of puppets, of varying size and importance depending on the version. Grandmother, for example, is portrayed as a modem go-getter, complete with pony tails, baseball cap, and walkman, as well as bifocals. The wolf is putty in her hands and a sorry figure who is portrayed as the victim. Despite its familiarity and through the seeming informality (the puppeteers wear casual sports clothes and converse directly with the audience), the performance is a fresh, highly polished, and entertaining piece of puppet theater.

Majaron’s "finish" also distinguished "Bajka O Kraljevim Tregnjama" ("The

King’s Cherries"). Performed by the Maribor State Theater it was well-received at

Sibenik even though few members of the Serbo-Croat audiences understand 98

Slovenian. Panelists concurred with one colleague who commented: "Even if one

were not familiar with the works of Majason you would know this was the work of

an accomplished director." The play itself is highly complex, the production

similarly so. It is an adaptation of an old, simple stoiy, but Majaron and his

ensemble have created a mock, ironic operetta posing as fable. Musically, it is

demanding and effectively dissonant. Symbolically, the story has many levels, the

political dichotomy between East and West, between autocratic rule and

liberalism, and the entrapment of the social hierarchy for man and cat and mouse

both.

"Pravljica o Carju Saltana" ("The Legend of the Czar Sultan"), as emotionally

spiritual as "The King’s Cherries" is energetic and intense, is another example of

Majaron’s finesse and his attention to detail. Performed with forty exquisite,

carved marionettes designed by Tone Kralj for Pengov over thirty years ago but

set aside due to the space limitation of the LGL’s old stage, the production

manifests both classic Slovene aesthetics (what many call their Slovene "tradition")

and Majaron’s mastery at synthesizing visual, audial, and symbolic elements of puppetiy. It is a portrait of controlled grace and emotion. While representing opposite ends of puppet experience, these two Majaron plays have in common the use of juxtaposition to create physical action and intellectual dimension. "The

King’s Cherries" juxtaposes frivolity with deadly seriousness, lightning speed with spiritual lethargy to intensify the permeating malaise and hypocrisy of the royal court. Similarly, "The Czar Sultan" reveals the story of the individual conscience in the face of power and oppression, and of spirituality and grace beside corruption and cruelty. 99

But the use of contretemps is more than just a device in these cases. It

reflects Majaron’s inability to settle for the tried and true and his understanding

of the innate inversion (idealized by shadow theater, where one image changes

immediately into another) of puppetry. Moreover, it allows the expression of

simultaneous levels of meaning without having to spell out the symbolism. Thus

"The King’s Cherries" may be viewed as a tale about a precocious mouse and a

cat or the moral story of royal corruption or an allegory about contemporary politics. In addition, it reveals Majaron’s scrupulous orchestration of his plays.

Music is an integral element of his puppetry:

The composer, too, has to be included early on in the team that is preparing the project (if it is not easier for me to prepare the music myself). His role in the modern theater is no longer one of getting suitable recordings for the lead- in and accompaniment of songs (how I hate ‘sure fire’ song recordings - inserts and limitations of two-bit popular musical hits) - the music, too, is part of the dramaturgy of a performance. The majority of puppeteers are able to sing, act, and dance. That is why I always try to find a way for their direct inclusion in the fabric of the performance... (Edi Majaron 1986).

Rimslqr-Korsakov’s poignant score served as an omnipresent character in "The

Czar Sultan," music provided much of the ironic kick of "The King’s Cherries," and the intermittent sounds of the thirty-odd instruments in 'Teofraus" or "The

Gossiping" spoke as eloquently as the lone, acerbic performer.

Each of these elements vividly mark his work, providing challenges to both players and audiences. A fourth characteristic, the use of folk motif, is more representative of other Slovene puppetry than these three elements; however, in his practice of incorporating folk motif, Majaron specially incorporates a full slice of folklore, ranging from puppet design to music, narrative, and scenography.

Thus, folk elements become central to the purpose and meaning of his puppetry rather than serving only a decorative function. The five puppet plays discussed 100 here illustrate Majaron’s stylistic use of folk elements.

"Zlatorog," based on an Alpine legend, vividly weaves character and story with folk song, sets, costume and puppet designs. Scenography and costumes define the dark mood and mystery of the narrative. The entire stage has been turned into a primordial mountain hamlet scattered with open straw huts laden with woven mats and enormous black cooking pots. Costumes were equally raw, consisting of caps trimmed with goat hair and horns, loose burlap tunics, and sandals of wrapped strips of cloth. The music, composed by Majaron, expressed the primitiveness of the hamlet and paralleled the tale’s central dualities: between the individualist and conformist, man and society, joy and sorrow, the forces of good and evil.

The stoiy itself is quite simple and straightforward. Two brothers choose alternate paths in life, one seeks truth via the quest of the mythic golden horn

(the zlatorog of the title) and leaves his family and society; the other never questions his existence or role in the world and heedlessly violates the social order by committing rape. Midway, their roles are ironically reversed when the first brother is lost, a victim of the mysterious world "out there," and the second brother becomes a hero when he accidentally discovers a source for fire.

Since the dialogue is sparse, the narrative is effectively revealed through choreography and musical composition. How exactly is this achieved? I recorded the parallels between song and narrative in at least a dozen different movements which are designed thus: first, the villagers (the chorus) set an ominous tone by an unsettling song which expresses the mystery and darker forces within the play and which closes with a disquieting lull of voices and recorder evoking the eerie 101 sounds of the wind; secondly, a working womens’ song (wordless and consisting of only the lilting repetition, ‘La/la la/ lalalala la’) conveys village harmony and order; thirdly out of this comes the call of the wild horn from afar and it is echoed by the brother who sets off in search of it; as he departs, a disturbing lull cseated by hushed voices and a recorder evokes the villagers’ fear; this is soon broken by the men’s chorus, singing to express their camaraderie, almost a refrain of the earlier women’s song. The sixth movement is a kind of dialogue between the two men, one atop the cliffs, the other within the village; next comes a violent piercing cat-like cry, then silence; the villagers mourn the loss of one brother and the actions of the other in a song of lament for one man and all men; the chorus is interrupted by an explosive rush (the discovery of the fire) and, putting their grief aside, the villagers break into a final song, a wordless and joyful celebration of life. In this extended ode, Majaron weaves together the sights, sounds, sensations, and objects of folk-life to create a puppet play at once rooted in time and place and also representative of man’s universal experience.

In "Pravljica o Carju Saltanu," Majaron uses folk elements to achieve quite a different effect. The folk is itself a symbol, one representing decency, harmony, indeed a Slovene work ethic, and moral purity in contrast to the Sultan. This duality is established at once in the contrast between the first two scenes. In the opening image, three peasant women are at work spinning and weaving, before a modest hut when their happy chatter is disturbed by an emissary from the Sultan requesting the maid’s hand; in the next scene, the formal dance of the courtiers and the new elaborately coiffed braids of the peasant bride provide a striking metaphor for the opulence and empty social order of the Ottoman autocracy. 102

However, any outlining of central visual duality belies the subtlety and spirituality of the entire play. Towards these Majaron owes much to the grace of

Kralj’s extraordinary marionettes, the richness of the scenography, and Rimsty-

Korsakov’s haunting score. Finally, the entire play, so characterized by the quiet formality and veiy solidness of the wooden puppets, is informed by a dreamlike quality and there is a continual interplay between illusion and life, between fantasy and reality.

Majaron described in detail a series of earlier plays which centered around folk elements in different degrees and for different purposes. At the Puppet Art

88 festival I was fortunate to see one of these during a video retrospective of

Slovene puppetry. "Kralj Matja2" ("King Matthias") is based on an old Slovene epic poem about a hero/prince who disguises himself as a commoner in order to free his wife from her Turkish captors. While the court scenes were inspired by the rich textures of medieval church frescoes and the puppets designed after early

Baroque carved altarpiece figures, much of the action lies deep within the countryside where the king and queen flee the Turks. Again as in "The Czar

Sultan," there is the contrast between the European (the German inspired form and figures) along with the peasant folk, and the Turkish or Eastern rule and culture. Quite appropriately, the hero and his queen return home triumphant and order is restored in the land. The tone of the production is one of such gentleness and moral virtue that a traditional feature of the story, the incident when the king beheads the Turkish blacksmith who had saved them (by reversing the direction of their horse’s hoofs after they cross the Sava River]^ is omitted as unsuitable for puppet plays - or for Slovene audiences of the late 1960s. 103

A series of puppet plays Majaron created throughout the 1970s and early

1980s was even more thoroughly immersed in folk elements. "Pegam in

Lamberger" (1978), directly adapted from a fifteenth or sixteenth century epic

Slovene poem by Majaron and his collaborator, the noted illustrator Jarz Vidic, is

one of the most visually inspired. Together they designed a set which was an

accurate replica of a Slovene beehouse, a small outdoor cupboard located beside

the peasant cottage. The entire stage was occupied by this enormous chest, and

as in the original folk piece, each of its erawers depicted a unique, often humorous story. Among the traditional scenes painted on the beehouse were two men fighting over a woman, a lover’s quarrel, the story of St. George and the dragon, the Nativity, or such well-known verses of the time as "How wild animals buried the hunter." In Majaron’s play, a "flat" puppet emerged from each drawer dramatizing the story painted on the cover, and, parallel to the puppets’ actions, was the narrator’s running commentary.

Similarly his version of "Zlata Ptica" ("The Golden Bird") was endowed with folk character rather than the customary refined appearance of other renditions.

Here the scenography was made entirely of wood shavings and woven plaits (like those of Palm Sunday), while the puppets were freely adapted from local folk carvings of animals. In this way, he reversed the pattern of "Kraj Matja2" and

"The Czar Sultan" by transforming an international tale into a uniquely Slovene one. Folk elements and lore also shaped other works, such as "Petr un Vuk"

("Peter and the Wolf), "Green George," based on a traditional peasant hero and folk motifs, and "Bajku u Svebor," in which the scenography was comprised of the wooden racks (resembling football goal posts) used for drying grass on the farms 104

and in which the puppets were sheathed in leather skin and burlap, the players

dressed in peasant garb, and the music consisted of folk songs played to the

sounds of the clicks of common stones, shells, and wooden spoons.

"Martin Krpn," produced in Mostar in 1976, culminates Majaron’s efforts to

synthesize these folk elements. In his version of the renowned tale, essentially a

prose ballad of the peasant hero who triumphs over the foreign oppressor,

Majaron integrated folk motif with a contemporary eye in order to both laud

Krpn’s heroism while giving a knowing wink to his preposterous feats. He

explained to me how he designed the puppets bearing this scheme of romance

and irony in mind:

How to do it? Krpn takes the head of one giant to another giant. They can all be wooden spoons and from this make the main story, main metaphor so in duel it is amusing not cruel... it is a game.

From the central concept, he and the designer Agata Freyer, a Slovene artist and his wife, created an entire set and cast of characters out of everyday, natural folk materials and utensils. He described the two basic kinds of puppets: one, the large flat wooden spoons, some circular, others, the kind used for flour, rectangular, and the secondary wooden heads attached to bodies made of woven baskets. The puppets’ faces were simply dark painted lines and their hair made of woven rope. Martin Krpn and the Turkish giants were the sole exceptions. Their bodies were made of the same burlap sackcloth worn by the puppeteers. One enormous wooden rack, the kind used in barns for drying hay, divided into several levels for multiple puppet action, served as the frame of the set. The entire scene was covered from floor to ceiling with clumps of hay and additional images of rural life, a village, mountains, or a forest, were created by silhouettes painted on 105

a burlap backdrop behind the rack. The scenography was completed by the

ubiquitous peasant horse and cart; the horse a two dimensional puppet carved

according to folk figures and the cart made of large oval baskets commonly used

by laborers. Lastly, creating a score out of old folk tunes, Majaron used folk

instruments, such as the traditional clay pipes shaped into animal figures, sleigh

bells, and wooden spoons tapped together to duplicate the click-click of horses’

hooves. Of this prize winning puppet play, featured throughout Yugoslavia as well

as in festivals in France, Poland, Austria and the 1976 UNIMA Congress, Majaron

commented, "All the time I wanted to present Slovene culture. All music is

Slovene melody... therefore near to Slovenes and also strange to them." Finally in

Krpn we recognize the synthesis of all of Majaron’s major artistic characteristics,

detail, orchestration, and overall dialectical framing, as well as his integration of

folk elements into not purely folk texts.

In addition to his personal artistic imprint, Majaron has, in the role of

cultural broker, made other substantive contributions to Slovene puppetry.

Foremost among them may be his role as UNIMA representative. Through

UNIMA, he has multiplied the contacts he made first through Pengov and later in

Sibenik; moreover, he has made them accessible to Yugoslav puppeteers at large,

encouraging communal rather than personal capitalization of them. In line with

this, he has chosen to promote puppetry on a Pan-Yugoslav level rather than an

individual artistic or singular ethnic one. Towards these goals, he has participated in all dimensions and regions of Yugoslav puppet activity. He frequently serves as selector for the Sibenik festival, he officially contributes to the Yugoslav biennial festival in Bugojo, he is an invited guest at the biatmual festivals of individual 106

republics, and, finally, crisscrossing the country, he directs puppetry in Maribor

and Zagreb, in Mostar, Belgrade and Banja Luka. Yugoslavia’s puppetry may

indeed be in the midst of a renaissance, as I was informed by an American

UNIMA board member, and, if so, its momentum and its rippling direction is

directly related to Majaron’s activity throughout the country.

Thus Majaron has effectively transposed Pengov’s blueprints for cultivating puppet theater by involving community artists onto a national level, continually

increasing both his pool of talent, and, at the same time, stimulating the creative

dynamics of puppet art. Such dynamics are a challenge to any community of

artists and they can become a double-edged sword in a multi-national,

economically unequal federation like Yugoslavia. Towards realizing these goals, he may have looked to Czechoslovakia whose puppetry is shifting from established theater to new offshoots of it. Comparing the situation in Yugoslavia, until very recently made up of isolated and narrowly focused state theaters, with that of

Czechoslovakia in the last twenty years he explained:

In Czechoslovakia very very different. In 1960s there were also maybe Prague puppet theater but at the same time there were new strong efforts... three other towns and very soon they changed the complete situation so that central theater became old fashioned one, like Zagreb now, famous but with few fresh ideas. And in this three other centers there were young people from the academy making most strong efforts. At academy, Dvorck was also artistic manager of theater and he wanted to take complete class of six to theater in Hrad and they became center of efforts where they joined with the older theater under Josef Krofta and where they wanted to be different from Prague... From the theater in this little town they had the opportunity. In Prague it very difficult to get jobs because it was center and they destroyed some ensembles because of political reasons in 1970s and then there were a lot of theatrical people without jobs and some really marvelous people joined puppetry because puppetry was controlled but not so strong as adult theater... so they were able to join complicated puppet theater for adults.

Something similar in Poland - three professional theaters in Warsaw with great reputation going on in same old fashioned reputation. Young people 107

came from academies from Prague and Leningrad and they brought fresh efforts not to go in the same cliche, not to return to old allegiance but to find new social situations in old tales... In Czech theater of Drak on top (now) for fifteen years and its very hard to be fifteen years on top... always fresh ideas...

Majaron’s understanding of the need for stimulating always "fresh ideas," to sidestep the worn or customary altogether, and, in the process, stimulate adult puppet theater, is put into practice consistently and consequently allows analysis of some of the broader implications. On a pragmatic level, participating in puppetry around the federation provides a far greater source of talent; moreover, it essentially frees a director or designer from many of the artistic and perhaps dogmatic restrictions state theaters may exert over their salaried staff. On another level, this strategy provides an individual puppeteer with both access to a wider audience and to a greater public following. Finally, involvement throughout the country can hold political advantages: if one sits on a cultural board, access to all kinds of resources are open to local puppetry. While I doubt whether an artist or broker like Majaron initiates projects with such a design in mind, there can be no misunderstanding the very political nature of Yugoslav cultural activity, including puppetry’s inception, its maintenance, and its current, prestige oriented course.

Certainly these factors have cumulatively insured Yugoslav and most especially Slovene puppetry a spot in the international arena. Thus, the artist/broker, from KlemenCiC to Pengov and Majaron, has rejuvenated puppetry and given it somewhere to go. Politicians beamed during the opening ceremonies of Ljubljana’s Puppet Art/88, and native puppeteers were duly impressed when foreign artists and UNIMA officials applauded their puppetiy. International recognition means a great deal. To Yugoslavs as a whole it means they are 108

shedding their backward, Balkan self-image; for Slovenes specifically, it symbolizes

their status as a Western culture oriented society.

The broker’s role in achieving recognition is preeminent. Majaron’s seat on

the UNIMA board provides him with access to the decision-making process, as

did KlemenCiC’s participation in UNIMA’s early seminars and congresses. What

precisely does this do for Slovene and Yugoslav puppetry? First, it has provided

native puppeteers an entree into the international circuit to attend training

workshops, theoretical seminars and foreign festivals as well as participate in guest

exchanges and to send promising young performers to study at the puppet institute

located in Charlesvilles-Messiers. Secondly it brought the European puppet world

and its training academies to Ljubljana for Puppet Art/88 and, through that, laid

the foundation for the establishment of a special UNIMA Congress on puppet

education to be held every three years in Ljubljana. In addition, it reaped

invaluable publicity for the creation of Yugoslavia’s first academy for puppetry.

The preferred location for one... Ljubljana. Finally, the relationship between

Majaron and UNIMA secured Ljubljana the contract for hosting the 1992

UNIMA Congress.

Originally Majaron had lobbied for 1988. He had several persuasive

arguments behind him: that Yugoslavia had not been a host since 1933; that it was time for the Congress to convene in Europe; and that Ljubljana was logistically suited for a large festival because it featured a new performance hall, the Cankarejev dom (Cultural and Congress Center). And indeed, Majaron was led to believe that he had secured the award. However, at the Board’s mid- congress meeting, the chairman proposed that Majaron and the Japanese 109

representative, an octogenarian whose life-long dream had been to host a UNIMA

festival, select the site between themselves. Immediately bowing out to the senior

delegate, Majaron nevertheless secured permission to hold a special mini­

convention focusing on puppet schools and education in Ljubljana.

His quick maneuvering proved advantageous. First it promoted the idea of

instituting Ljubljana as the site of future conventions. Secondly, it attracted

puppeteers from all over Europe to Slovenia and served as a showcase for

Slovene puppetry. Two exhibitions, one focused on Yugoslav puppet art and

another, (located in pockets throughout the city, in shop, bank, and library

windows) showcased Slovene puppets, were presented to festival guests. Thirdly,

defining the festival as an educational event, Majaron enlisted the support of the

Institute for Pedagogics of the Edvard Kardelj University to host the series of

seminars on "Puppet in Pedagogics," The Museum of Art and Architecture,

Cankarejev Dom, the Cultural Committee of Slovenia, the Cultural Committee of

Ljubljana, and ZKOS (the Association of Cultural Organization of Slovenia

amateurs) as well as the LGL. Puppet Art/88 was thus billed as a vehicle to "call public attention to the puppet art and to stimulate the education of professional puppeteers. It is the manifestation for all devotees of the puppet art, members as well as non-members of UNIMA and experts in education and pedagogics."

Finally Puppet Art/88 served as a dry run for the 1992 Congress. It allowed the organizers an opportunity to practice organizing a major international festival, and it pointed out the complications and whether or not the festival succeeded in establishing a Yugoslav or Slovene academy for puppetry is not yet clear.

However it did draw attention to two concerns: the formal training of puppeteers 110 and the delineation between professionals and amateurs. Of the former Majaron told me:

I have always stressed the injustice that our higher theater schools have been doing to the younger generation of theater people when they do not offer even the basic information about puppets as an inexhaustible source of contemporary theater experience. Is the puppet really less important than instrument vocal musical exercises or, say, fencing?

Secondly, Puppet Art/88, by focusing on students rather than professionals, demonstrated clearly the talent of these non-establishment puppeteers. While

Slovenia enjoys a bounty of amateurs today as in the past, many, including

Majaron, are trying to bridge the gap between professionals and non-professionals.

One means is to recruit amateur puppeteers consistently; another is to advocate free-lance status for those who decide to work as professional puppeteers yet eschew attachment to state theater.

Currently, there are four free-lancers puppeteers in Yugoslavia, all of whom are Slovenes. Majaron is the most visible of the quartet and I believe the first to achieve free-lance status. Cvet Sver, a popular solo puppeteer described as "a performance artist;" "Papilu" a young husband and wife team in Koper; and Jelena

Sitar, a young director working in the professional theaters in Ljubljana and

Maribor and with community children, are the other individuals granted the status. Recognition as a free-lancer carries with it a govermnent stipend, insurance, community contract for a set number of performances, professional identity, and a considerable degree of choice to pursue the kind of puppetry you want, when and where you want. It is relevant that free-lancers are recognized solely in Slovenia. To my knowledge, in Croatia only Davor Mladinov, the veteran rezija who is now under contract for just two ZKL productions a year. I l l leaving him basically at liberty to work in other theaters, comes close to having such an arrangement. In Slovenia, the set up is significant for four reasons. First it demonstrates official interest and commitment to puppetry; secondly it espouses activity by individual artists, activity parallel to private enterprise in socialist

Yugoslavia; thirdly it shows recognition of the need to provide an alternative to state theater; and, finally, it is testament to the wide puppet audience in Slovenia.

What the future holds for these free-lancers, whether they retain their artistic autonomy and continue to receive government funds, remains to be seen, with or without political change and subsequent changes in cultural policy.

Thus the scope of the artist/broker both encompasses their individual artistic merits and extends well beyond them. While establishing a working base for puppet theater, each of the three portrayed was instrumental in establishing the standards for puppetry, aesthetic criteria which consistently inform Slovene puppetry. As they refined their performances, working to make them more distinctively Slovene, they simultaneously opened new stylistic venues, exposed their public to an increasingly greater diversity, and initiated or strengthened an informal puppet network among amateurs and professionals both. Finally, they mobilized a broad base of cormnunity support, from official cultural organizations to the other arts, education, and the community at large. It is important to note they pursued a positive approach. They appealed to national identity by defining

Slovene aesthetics, to Slovene ambition to be Western, to the ideological pursuit of kultura for all citizens, including children, and they successfully, symbolically linked Slovene puppet "tradition" with Slovene character and culture. 112

Amateur Puppetry as Community Activity

This study focuses on the two dominant features, the artistic quality and political scope of amateur Slovene puppetiy that are distinctive in their own right and which, furthermore, shed light on a number of the mobilizing forces noted above. It is important to bear in mind the seeming paradox between the constancy of amateur puppetry in Slovenia during the last fifty years and puppetry’s innate characteristic to be of the moment or topical and therefore not enduring. This quality is magnified in amateur puppetry scale. In light of this, it is more expedient to trace longitudinal patterns of puppetry among amateurs than to isolate specific texts (although, had Gaspeck or Jucek survived that might have proven a more useful strategy).

Slovene amateur puppetiy distinguishes itself from other Yugoslav non­ professional puppetry because of its considerable political dimension. That this was a feature early on is confirmed by the Slovene adoption of Czech puppetry’s symbol and political sentiment. Even through the politically repressive 1930s, many puppeteers claimed liberal stances in the face of increasingly totalitarian rule. One veteran teacher recalled her first introduction to puppetry at that time:

Maribor was preparing performances for youth... (with the) intention that this theater would have political ideas... leftwing ideas... and Maribor group adopted some puppets and were traveling around country giving performances in schools and puppetry was well received (Amateur Slovene puppeteer).

While puppetry came to a halt during the war, a few puppeteers banded together in the town of Cernomlj, about seventy kilometers south of Ljubljana, and conceived the idea to use puppetiy to encourage anti-fascist sentiment. In 1943, while located in a liberated zone, the town was precariously near the German troop occupied areas. By late 1943, rehearsals were held in the parish rectory, in 113 private homes, and in the fire station, and in 1944, the first performances were presented. Alenka Gerlovic, author and designer, was one of the leaders of this group which called itself the Partizanjko Lutkovno GledaliSCe (Partisan Puppet

Theater). The troupe began traveling around southwest Slovenia, performing stylistically rudimentary but ideologically packed puppet dramas. After the war, they continued performing throughout the Republic and may have inspired the

LGL’s first performance in 1948, "Udarna Brigada." It was important too, that the public saw these puppeteers for another reason; they were the survivors of

German persecution of Slovene artists and musicians who had suffered even more than the citizenry at large. At present, a number of the puppeteers I met were distinctly dissatisfied with socialism. However, they were reluctant to make specific statements other than to express their support of Slovenia’s liberal policy towards private enterprise and ^ the support of free-lance artists. These artists and organizers have pragmatically chosen to actively promote what they believe is viable. They prefer to act individually or in small groups rather than to discuss, endlessly, what they believe are the pitfalls of socialist policy of the arts and culture. To the Slovenes I met the system’s weaknesses are self-evident, and they felt that personal initiative was needed to make up for its short-comings.

A second political dimension, albeit one less overt but equally durable, aligns puppetry with ethnic maintenance. Earlier the relationship between Czech puppet activity and an insurgence of Slovene puppeteers was noted; currently that same message, Slovene culture for Slovene children, is being transferred to puppetry performed for Slovenes living in neighboring countries or along border areas of mixed citizenry. 114

Tine Varl, a professional chemist from Maribor, frequently produces puppet plays with Slovene students living across the Austrian border. Using their own ingenuity rather than technical equipment or elaborate props, these students are using puppetry to maintain their native language and a sense of Slovene heritage in the midst of a life otherwise routinely Austrian. For these plays, Varl and his associates receive a modest "allowance" for expenses from the Slovene Cultural

Commission. In the Southern region surrounding the growing city of Koper, similar efforts are encouraged. It is here, overlooking the Bay of Trieste and only minutes from the Italian border town of Muggia, that the puppet company,

"Papilu" resides. The husband and wife team, bom and educated in Ljubljana, who created the troupe specialize in delicate puppets designed entirely out of paper (the name is a hybrid meaning paper and lutka). Performing locally since

1981, "Papilu" was granted free-lance status and provided with a stipend in 1986.

Ironically, while their new professional status enables them to give a specific number of performances year round, they have developed an Italian audience along the way, and it is the revenue from these non-Slovene, paying performances, that keeps "Papilu" solvent at present. Almost half of their work is shadow theatei; and I think its novelty is an attraction for Italian audiences. In addition, their puppetry relies less on dialogue than that of other puppeteers, and they seek to convey meaning through visual symbolism, movement, and music. Their production of "DjevojCica sa Sibicama" based on Hans Christian Anderson’s "The

Little Matchgirl," illustrates their style well: conceived as a shadow play, it draws the audience into a child’s imaginary world. It is a world both rich and remote, representing the fragility and uniqueness of each individual. Set against the 115

busier, adult world, the child symbolizes the isolation of the human condition.

Scored by a delicate and almost haunting Japanese melody, the gestures are

graceful and deliberate. Thus, in tone, character, and movement this

contemporary puppet play is clearly of the same geme as Pengov’s gentle

marionette plays of thirty years ago. Moreover, its aesthetic sensibility reflects the

Slovene perception that their art is characteristically refined and highly sensitive

to the individual. In a lighter vein, their most recent production, "Potep," the

story of the three bears and their first new work since becoming professionals,

again allows movement and even more pronounced visual humor to supersede

dialogue, creating a play for all ages and all nationalities.

A third facet of the political nature of amateur puppetry centers around the very evolution of a national Slovene puppet character. It has already been shown

how KlemenCiC first looked to Italian theater, then created a puppet hero

comparable to the German Kasper, and, later, when the political climate

changed, he turned again to the Czech character for Jucek. Yet none of these struck the right chord. In the 1950s, Niko Kuret tried his hand with a character he called Pavliha, a trickster possibly more akin to Slovene peasants types than the earlier puppets. He certainly dressed like one and was easily recognizable with his broad black peasant hat, embroidered red or navy vest and white smock, recalling the rural Shrovetide mask, "la star" (the old man) and facially resembling another Shrovetide mask, "ta Slamnant" (the straw man) with his exaggerated nose, wide half moon grin, enormous ears and arched brows. Kuret was already familiar with these and other festival masks and later published a comprehensive study. Mask Slovenskih Pokrajin 1981, about their ritual use. 116

Pavliha enjoyed success for about ten years but instead of staying at the forefront of Slovene puppetry he was set aside to make room for other puppets.

Several factors contributed to his demise, an ironic one given the fact that previous puppeteers had worked to create the right sort of national puppet hero.

By the end of World War Two there was not the same driving need for a puppet equivalent of Kasper: Yugoslavia was a forward looking Federation dedicated to building a new socialist society. Also, with the creation of the LGL, Pengov worked to build an artistic puppet theater, committed to serious artistic work rather than small time popular puppetry, and he choose to work with technically complicated, stylistically sophisticated marionettes rather than gawky, slapstick hand puppets. Thirdly, Kuret was associated with the fascist forces during the war and so a backlash, which effectively ostracized Pavliha, followed. ^Finally cultural managers no longer wanted to characterize peasants, and the general sentiment was that puppets like Pavliha represented bourgeois attitudes and preconceptions of peasants rather than served as more acceptable portraits of the forefathers of the new proletariat. Officially, the LGL prefers to emphasize Pavliha as a victim of artistic, rather than political or cultural change:

Pavliha, the Slovene buffoon (like other nation’s Punch, Kasper, Guigno, Petruska...) had to give way to new heroes and plays. It is a great pity that Pavliha has been completely forgotten, but he represented a tradition which had to give way to new ideas (LGL professional puppeteer).

Pavliha’s withdrawal was fundamentally political in nature, and how a new

Slovene puppet "tradition" is established during the 1950s and 1960s and is maintained as an ethnic symbol today will be discussed in Chapter VIII.

Finally, a different dimension of the political aspect of amateur puppetry is the unionization of non-professionals. The union, Zvezi Kulturnih Organizacih 117

(ZKOS) has twin functions: to serve as a formal network for the nearly two hundred active, amateur puppeteers and to participate in the offîcial cultural system by entering the decision-making process at large. According to one

Slovene informant, the amateur puppet union sends delegates to the two main cultural commissions (the professional union and to the Slovenian Cultural

Commission itself) associated with puppetry. In both of these organizations, the amateur puppeteers have a voting representative which enables them to determine where funds are allocated and decide who is elected to preside over cultural activity. Moreover, ZKOS officially participated in organizing and hosting

Puppet Art/88, and I imagine their role in the 1992 UNIMA Congress will be similarly important.

In addition, ZKOS is itself well organized, given the size, diversity, and residential dispersion throughout Slovenia of its two hundred members. Every two years ZKOS holds a puppet festival, each time in a different town throughout the countryside. It is well attended by the public and other performers (Sitar

1985). At the thirteenth meeting, forty-four performers (representing thirty-nine different groups) were featured. Nearly half of the plays were based on Slovene texts. In a review for Lutka. the puppet journal, Marjan Belina commented on two new trends: the first was towards live music (thirty-six puppeteers had live musical accompaniment) and the second was toward a greater emphasis on the

"viewer as object instead of viewer as subject." Both audience participation, and ritual elements were consciously intensified. In her report on the fourteenth meeting in Ljubljana, Sitar (1985) commented on evidence of another new trend, in which the puppet is taking precedence over the performer. Formerly small. 118

puppets have become "richer and more interesting and they seem to have more

weight." She observed that amateur puppetry covered an entire range of puppet

techniques, so that there was now a "melange of everything," glove, marionettes,

shadow, masks, and Sicilian rod figures. Singling out two puppeteers, both of whom were to "become free-lance artists within two years," Papilu and Cveto

Sever, she characterized the entire festival as artistically successful: "Practically

all performances were poetical and this is an eminently Slovenian characteristic."

(Sitar 1985:11-15). Her commentary points out the re-emergence of an open rather than fixed or tradition bound Slovene puppet system. It reveals a clear movement toward experimentation which contradicts the frequent statement that

Slovene puppetry is based on the marionette tradition.

Who are these puppeteers who while working individually, have cumulatively received recognition for their achievement? In Maribor and Ljubljana I met with half a dozen performers and also observed their puppetry in different settings and locations within Slovenia and during non-Slovene festivals. They represent a variety of professions (and all that I interviewed were professionals with university degrees) and of differing artistic interests. Yet, they all share an affection for puppets which often extends back into their childhood as well as a commitment to preserving and providing Slovene cultural activity. Tine Varl, the chemist from

Maribor, who always played with puppets as a child, started the Maribor Gledlisce

Lutaka eighteen years ago by merging two smaller groups, the Maribor Puppet group and the Lutaka. The city let them use a second story chamber in a historic courtyard housing the Town Hall. While the company has since become professional, its origins were based in amateur participation, and it is interesting to 119 note that the most recent puppeteer to join the staff worked previously as an amateur with the theater for nine years. Presently there are four to five active amateur groups, including those of teachers, in Maribor. Currently Varl is associated with the Lutkovno Gledlisce Konaci, a puppet group nearly twenty-five years old which consists of fourteen to fifteen players, most of whom have been active in the group for eight or more years.

The puppeteers perform in schools, in festivals, and for other community affairs, giving about 150 performances a year. They generally create one or two new productions a year and are currently experimenting with technique and style.

Tine Varl said: "I think we do them all except classic marionettes... it’s expensive to make them and you need a formal stage." Defining their texts as "very basic stories" he described one, "The Snow Men" thus:

A dog gets lost and he can’t find out how to get home, meanwhile it starts to snow and he still can’t find the way to get home. At beginning of performance, these snowmen are fighting for a street. \^ e n this little dog gets lost, the snowmen stop quarreling and they start to help the dog. They ring the doorbell and take him home. Whole story has twenty words perhaps. Actors hold puppets over their heads... very simple.

Another puppet play is in the form of traditional fable and emphasizes the value of the individual:

Tobia, he is a dachshund with large eyes and short legs. He thinks no one likes him because he is ugly. But Uncle Florian, an actor, tells him to go to the zoo and try and find different animals he wants to be (like). Each of the animals tells him the best things of each of them... the giraffe, a long neck; the tiger thinks its best to have strong teeth; etc. And so in the end. Uncle Florian asks children what animals said and when children say "this!" or "this!" and he gets them all together and they make hollering... and he asks Tobia "Do you really want to be like this?" And he says "No, he is happy to be himself."

A veiy simple production, the puppeteers made the animals one dimensional toy except for Tobia who was three dimensional. Both its simplicity and the way in 120 which the play draws the children into the puppet action are part of its considerable charm.

An amateur student production of "The Divine Comedy" ("Bo2ansjka

Komedija"); designed by Tine Varl’s wife, Breda, a professional architect who divides her time between teaching at the Maribor academy as well as designing for puppet theater, has a more sophisticated simplicity. An enormous tree made of square green pillows for leaves and hung with apples stands at the center of the stage; a blue cloth is draped to frame the tree, giving it an ethereal quality and providing a symbolic distance between the tree and the mortals (two cloth covered

Bunraku style puppets). Breda’s puppets are always distinctive: bold in design they can be alternatively powerful and quietly self-contained. From the puppets I observed her trademark design includes geometric shapes, dramatic black eyes, and the capacity for graceful, fluid movement. Her two sets of puppets for "The

King’s Cherries" were marked by contrast, the mortals, all rigid and angular­ shaped, and the animals, supple and flexible. The graceful fluidity of the wide- eyed, bare-breasted water fairies in "The Raftsmen" was matched by the sensuous rippling of the river, multilayered colored cloths manipulated by a team of six players.

In Ljubljana I also met a set of amateurs committed both to puppetry and to maintaining artistic standards within the community. Ava, a psychologist, attended puppet workshops as a child and continues to perform with an experimental puppet troupe, LUFT. She also runs an "aesthetics/puppets program" after school for children ages three to six. She commented:

... always we want one performance to work with children. To confront children is closer than to adults... for child’s soul for thinking is a "face of 121

animated thinking" (Piaget): a child always looks at every object as its own. And we found that, although our work is very abstract, no story, no values directly but children feeling of illusion, water and sound, and recognized the puppets.

LUFT is an offshoot of the Young Pioneer workshops Ava and most of her

colleagues attended when they were about ten years old. The group stayed

together through high school and university and later when they embarked on

professional careers. Eventually, though, a handful splintered off to work on non-

traditional puppetry, that is plays without linear narrative or set character.

Created because its performers shared a "different kind of aesthetic" the group

called itself LUFT. One of them described how they often perform independently

of each other yet have common aims, to:

... work differently, to work more experimentally, more individual, out of these clenches of Pioneerski Dom, but to go on experimenting, not to do big shows where each participant has a little place (amateur Slovene puppeteer).

LUFTs most recent work "Pictures at An Exhibition" exemplifies their philosophy.

Loosely adapted from the concept of an art show, it is dedicated to the idea of

individuality and freedom of artistic expression. The range of vignettes, each

designed around a set inspired by famous works of art (a Hieronymous Bosch painting, a well-known Russian avant garde politically oriented canvas, the painting of Alberto Cassau, a Peruvian living in Italy, and an expressive portrait of

a young girl selling violets) was deliberately broad, as if to show that the possibilities for individual expression are infinite and take many shapes and forms.

It was, by all accounts, a highly eclectic, energetic, and well received production.

Like Ava and Tine, Joze also grew up playing with puppets. An engineer by training, he regularly performs with a small group of about seven other players in town. Other part-time performers I met had left amateur ranks and became 122

professional puppeteers. One Slovene puppeteer reminisced about the hand-made

puppets he and his brother made at home as children. Originally from northwest

Slovenia near Maribor, he first entered the law but abandoned it eight years ago

to work full-time in puppet theater. Jelena Sitar, today one of the four free­

lancers, grew up as part of the youth group that became LUFT and, indeed, most

of Ljubljana’s major puppeteers began as amateurs. An informal but dynamic line

stretches from KlemenCiC to Sitar and the youths she is training.

But while other regions have dedicated amateurs, individuals or groups who

enjoy entertaining others, Slovene amateurs are again distinctive in their

commitment to maintaining artistic standards. One amateur explained that

Slovenes were innately talented painters and musicians, another that this artistry was a result of historic circumstance and part of the ethnic character of his people:

... our culture is one between East and West... we have this tension, with open borders to neighbors but in South they have closed borders. Out of conflict comes artistic expression...

Others cited artistic sensibility as one of the cultural benefits of Austro-Hungarian rule and later twentieth century Czech influences. Moreover, with the development of a Slovene artistic network, aesthetic standards and techniques circulated freely and were passed down from one generation to another. Ava and

Jelena, along with other amateurs still active in puppetry, had studied at the atelier of Lojze Kovacic, and Maja Solce, now of Papilu, apprenticed with the

Majaron brothers in their workshops for young people. Edi Majaron had performed under Pengov’s eye while still producing amateur plays with his brother, and later he collaborated with Pengov’s widow, also an artist, for other 123

LGL productions. Today, each of them is involved with passing on that practice to another generation of young puppeteers. Moreover, one of ZKOS’s objectives is to facilitate the interaction between professionals and amateurs, enabling the former to serve as mentors or advisors to students.

What follows, then, is a continual flow between the two camps which both trains young performers and energizes veteran puppeteers at the same time on a fairly wide basis. One professional player described to me how amateur puppeteers had helped revive the more static, formal theater in the last twenty years:

... Fresh efforts of amateur movement forced professionals to change. They had not such dominant positions and were fighting for new ideas. Since they were a little bit in the wings they were also struggling for position... so they were surprising always at festivals, at Sibenik, so it is the little theater always trying new positions (Slovene veteran director).

The clearest manifestation of these innovations was the kind of informal, intimate performances well suited to low budget/low tech amateur puppetry such as Tobiaz." One major characteristic was that the puppeteer both manipulated the figures and narrated the story himself, serving as a go-between the audience and the puppets. In addition, casual realism and audience participation replaced the stylized sets and formal serenity of Pengov’s marionette productions.

The Lutkovno Gledali§Ce Dravlje excelled at this breezy, fun puppetry.

Renamed the Theater JoZe Pengov after Pengov’s death in 1968, this group introduced the small playlets now called "little forms" which are presently an integral part of the LGL’s repertory and have since spread throughout Slovenia and into Croatia. In its early days the company was organized into three sections, one for highly polished productions, one for performances with actors and 124

children, and one for puppet shows specially created with teenagers. Three

eminently successful productions were little forms: 'Tobiaz," the story of the

dissatisfied dachshund, "Hruske Gde, Hruske Pol," and "Under the Green

Mountain," a story derived from the refrain of a well-known children’s song in which two children of the audience assist the actors climbing a mountain. By the late 1970s, the LGL began adapting a similar informal style, ten years after its inception by the Majaron brothers. The advantages of producing these plays are rewarding both for players, who enjoy the intimacy, and for the audience, who enjoy interacting with the performers.

Two little forms produced independently of either theaters had considerable success in 1988. Papilu’s "Potep" (the story of the "Three Little Bears") had been a last minute substitute for "The Matchgirl" at the Rijeka festival. Much to the puppeteers’ surprise the unassuming play captured first prize, beating out far more sophisticated entries like the LGL’s complex "Lysistrata" or the ZKL’s mock operetta based on Mozart’s "Bastien i Bastienne." At Puppet Art/88, Jelena

Sitar’s youth company presented "Lesena Raca" ("The Wooden Duck"), another dark horse that captivated critics from all over Europe. Created by teenagers from the local middle school and disarmingly performed by four students, it is the dramatization of everything extraordinary which can occur in the most ordinary of spots, a kitchen. They designed a set out of a large, rectangular blue "crate" which unfolds to become a cupboard filled to the brim with crockery and domestic utensils, all blue also. These common objects are the only predictable things in the play. While the text was based on an idea by the director, the chaotic and endearing complications sprang, full-blown, from the young puppeteers. The 125 play’s unusual development and atmosphere were described by one participant:

We had scenario... but the situations were solved by everyone and he who solved dilemma is wooden duck and so we have five different wooden duck puppets... and we used gags from animated film and comic strips and we came from the material to the philosophic (Slovene amateur puppeteer).

In light of such performances, it is essential to recognize the particular relationship between Slovene amateur and professional puppetry. While one evolved out of the other, the situation today is more akin to the riddle of the chicken and the egg. They have become increasingly intertwined and aware of each other’s activity, especially in the last fifteen years. To some extent, they are also developing some of each other’s characteristics: professional theater designs small gems, "little forms," while amateurs experiment with style, technique, music and scenography, in short, the trademarks of classic Slovene professionalism. One puppeteer implied that the ties between them were both part of the larger dynamics and necessary for the continued development of Slovene puppet theater:

... some us we want to gather things, not to separate them. Professionals must watch what amateurs are doing and we feel amateurs must not copy professionals. As professionals, we were yesterday amateurs. And some can divide between professionals and amateurs but many of us don’t want to make divisions between... amateurs and professionals, students and adults but we all working on art which is part of us all... (Professional Slovene puppeteer).

Amateurs, pleased by public recognition and role, nevertheless espouse a slightly different attitude:

But I prefer to be amateur and not be so perfect... (to be) always dependent. Here in Slovenia we are fanatics about speaking perfectly and it is so intense... We (amateurs) have a little fear of being professionals because with money comes (official responsibility) and we want to do it ourselves, on our own...

It is, finally, a sign of the generally healthy regard for one another which sets the

Slovene non-professional apart from his colleagues elsewhere in Yugoslavia. The

Slovene amateur is allowed to have a community voice, enjoys considerable 126 community recognition and, with it, a well-cultivated audience, is recognized for his or her contributions to cultural maintenance, has easy access to either professional or increasingly, free-lance status, and also can be seen as part of a broader symbolic role. Amateur puppetry here both appeals to ethnic identity or status and represents the Slovene commitment to individual input into cultural affairs.

The Development of Slovene Puppet Texts

One of the most pressing challenges facing puppet directors is the scarcity of good working texts. It is a problem expressed universally throughout Yugoslavia in theaters of all sizes, locations, and philosophies. In Belgrade, the Malo

PozoriSte had long been fortunate to have Dusan Rodovic, a popular radio host and storyteller, turn his energy to puppetry. One Serbian puppeteer explained that his texts, utterly simple in plot, were rich in language and concept and rewarding for children and adults alike. In Croatia, the stories of August Senoa continued to provide prize material. Increasingly directors in Zagreb are trying to solicit scripts from local writers. Throughout Slovenia puppeteers also remain on the lookout for native literature to adapt to the stage. More than any other theater, the LGL has consistently cultivated a group of Slovene writers to contribute to puppet drama. Some authors adapt traditional legends or folk tales for performance while others compose original texts specifically for the puppet theater. The growing involvement of the local literary community with Slovene puppetry is another distinctive feature of Slovene cultural activity and is relevant to the scope of this evaluation.

Currently the LGL’s repertory is designed to accentuate this budding 127 relationship between author and performance. MatjaZ Loboda, the resident dramaturge and occasional rezija. explained that out of four or five annual premieres, at least half of them are expected to be original Slovene texts. The theater’s policy is centered on the idea of Slovene self-identity.

There is difference of temperament (from the rest of Yugoslavia) and we have some authors, our specific authors from Slovenia and we work with them. We cannot talk Yugoslav puppetry... it exists but Slovene puppetry is different from Belgrade, Sarajevo, Zagreb. I talk with authors now (in the winter) with three authors for next year and they prepare texts for now and second year and I know their work veiy well and I trust...

This attitude is representative of the goals of a younger generation of directors who have elected to mark their art as Slovenian. It also signifies the emergent symbolism of Slovene language and culture during the 1970s and 1980s.

Yet, during the LGL’s early days, such a partnership was neither artistically in vogue nor economically feasible. In the LGL’s first decade (1950-1959) over three-fourths of the twenty-two productions were based on foreign texts. As his theater matured, however, Pengov began seeking more Slovene material. Pengov and a colleague, Simincic, proved gifted at adapting foreign tales such as "The

Golden Fish" or "Puss in Boots" to suit Slovene tastes or meet the theater’s aesthetic standards. Yet, except for the classic "Zvedica Zaspanka" ("Little Sleepy

Star," a gentle, moral tale if there ever was), Pengov did not recruit authors the same way he did designers and craftsmen, despite his insistence on molding design and action to the script:

And Pengov was the one who said, ‘No you must adapt style to text.’ Pengov also added other techniques, such as rod so that he was already thinking of text, ‘If it’s a fine one we must find right technique...’ (A former colleague from the LGL).

Ironically, as Pengov was achieving his greatest success and recognition abroad, a 128 new crop of puppeteers rejected the very classic mode he sought to refine. This younger generation, lacking exposure to pre-war culture, found the marionette plays staid, contrived, and condescending. A rash of experimentation began on numerous directions, and while not all succeeded, former patterns were altered and new ones introduced.

Foremost among the innovations was the turning to native authors. At a time when radical French, German, and Czech leftist art was trendy, Slovene puppeteers deliberately selected texts from their own literary compatriots. Then as now, a major portion of these scripts were based on traditional myth or legend, while a second set of texts was contemporary fables, both magical and satiric.

Svetlana MakaroviC and Frane Puntar are two of these native writers long admired by my informants.

MakaroviC, a celebrated poet and storyteller, is perermially courted by the

LGL. Numerous stories have been adapted for the stage, one of which,

"SapramiSka," is the mouse tale about going to the dentist that has become a junior cult classic in its own time. MakaroviC was the author commissioned to write a play for the LGL's fortieth anniversary festival in 1988. MakaroviC’s stories work on two levels: her interest in folk character and motif lends itself well to the theater’s expressed ideological goals of preserving Slovene heritage; and, secondly, her writing strikes just the right chord with contemporary, young audiences who see some plays several times over a year. Her writing is full of pathos yet humor and comforting moralism. She explains that for her... "The begiiming development is a tear." At present she is at work adapting traditional

Slovene tales as she did in "Mrtvec Pride Po Ljubice" ("The Dead Lover’s Bride") 129

which was remarkable in its haunting, surreal scenography and poetic, almost old

fashioned text. Her preoccupation with native stories and traditional motifs is,

she confessed, fairly recent:

It is a love which is not veiy old. As a young citizen I was not very interested in old culture but later when I saw our nation is losing its beautiful songs and stories and dances... but now our folk songs and dances are just shit now, you know...

MakaroviC’s appeal may lie in her skill in emotionally drawing her audiences into

the narrative and, moreover, with her traditional tales, she rewards adults seeking

to provide cultural enrichment for their children.

While MakaroviC’s stories enhance puppetry’s ritualistic properties, allowing

it to serve as an emotional purifier through its symbolism, language, and

character, Puntar’s effect is quite the opposite; it is perhaps more akin to sitting in

a comfy chair and being pricked by a pin sticking out of it. It both stings and

pleases at the same time. Prolific as well as adept at creating the right, light tone

and symbols, and in creating unpretentious and preposterous situations, Puntar wrote some of the freshest puppet plays produced in the 1970s. Majaron

described one, a flight of fancy typically grounded in everyday experiences;

entitled "Hruske Gor, Hruske Dol" ("Pears Up, Pears Down"):

Market woman is selling pears. There is client... but pears don’t want to be eaten but want to be back on the tree. So they call firemen and climb (back) up to top of the tree. And all firemen were on top and fall down. What to do? Woman reminded pears needed to be ripe to fall... calls organ grinder to play organ for pears to ripen. Now the pears want to climb down because they are afraid they are too ripe. So in end woman who always wanted to sell something sells the ladder and in between is dream in which pears sell the woman. In end is something like begiiming.

The interplay between the real and the surreal, the sense of having each foot in another world, of understanding that things are both what they seem and 130 completely different from it, and the insights into the capriciousness of existence have humorous and social, even political meaning.

Puntar’s puppet plays parallel the work of many Eastern European novelists, playwrights, satirists, and film makers who prefer not to rationalize their world but to offer it as they perceive it. Majaron explains Puntar’s attraction thus:

I am conquered again and again by Puntar’s penetrativeness with which he places all the most crucial problems of today’s society into absurd situations. Behind the seeming playfulness hides the deep humanism of a man who still hopes that something can be changed. I have done some of his scripts several times... every time differently since in their strict and sparing texts they excite the fantasy of the plastic artist and all other co-workers. They are a hard nut to crack for the players because the roles are seemingly ungraspable, diffuse in meaning and demand much serious work...

MatjaZ Loboda cited other contemporary authors whose work is contributing to the store of original Slovene texts. Zlatko Krilié, a satirist who authored the fable, "Jajce" ("The Egg") has been commissioned to write a new play for the

1989-90 season, "Background of the Puppet Theater." Alenka Goljevscek, principally an author of adult, "live" theater comedies, just adapted two texts for the LGL while Eric Fritz, the poet, has been solicited for more scripts on the basis of his 1987 "Zajeck Peter" ("Peter Rabbit"). A fourth, Polonca Kovec, wrote the story created into four playlets, each focusing on a season, "What Must the

Owl Do in Spring?" (Winter/Autunm/or Summer), a favorite "little form" produced seasonally. The contemporary adaptation by Miran Herzog of "Martin

Krpn," which has successfully been featured throughout Europe and China, is a rollicking social and political satire.

Thus Slovene authors are almost routinely involved in puppet activity at present. During the past fifteen years at least twenty-nine of the seventy plays produced by the LGL, were written by celebrated native authors, including eight 131 by MakaroviC, four by Puntar, five by Polonca Kovec, as well as KriliC, MilCinski,

Goljevscek, and Herzog. An additional fifteen plays were adapted fi’om the classics (Anderson and Pushkin, for example) by Slovene authors. Gradually a body of Slovene puppet texts is being accumulated and a pool of authors formed

(which future theater can always draw upon). While the professional theater in

Zagreb is attempting to lure contemporary Croatian authors into its fold, there is nowhere the kind of energetic circle to select from as I found in Ljubljana.

However, pragmatic and positive for community relations as this emphasis on native authors may be, it also represents Slovene artists’ (and cultural activists’ at large) concern with the broader issues of preserving and maintaining language.

The Educational Factor and Slovene Puppetry

Nowhere is the promotion of puppetry and language more visibly coupled than in the educational halls of Slovenia. For over half a century teachers have used puppets as a classroom tool as well as a means of expressing political sentiment.

Slovene puppeteers often cite early classroom exposure to puppetry as one of their most vivid childhood memories. For years professionals puppeteers have been involved directly in the classroom either performing or conducting drama workshops.

On a different level, the Kardelji Pedagogical Institute both co-sponsored

Puppet Art/88 and chaired numerous symposiums on the role of puppetry in education. Well-attended, these seminars focused on the advantages of puppetry for aesthetic, moral, emotional, and philosophical development for young children.

Among the points emphasized by members of the institute’s staff to me were:

that puppetry must be well integrated into curriculum; 132

that puppet activity cultivates individual self-expression;

that puppets promote important imaginative play;

that puppetry is an opportunity for children to play actively (as

opposed to other teaching devices which tend to be more passive and

future oriented);

that puppetry aids small motor development and hand-eye

coordination;

that puppetry reinforces social skills, ideals, and values; and

that puppet play augments language acquisition and development.

In general, the educators stressed, first, the value of puppetry in the psychological development of the individual and, secondly, its contribution to the transference of this development to other related areas. One teacher concluded that creativity was an integral factor in the success for both teachers and pupils of puppetry in the classroom:

You have to be a little craty to promote puppetry, more fanciful. The tradition is well-embedded in this area... there were certain unions which vanished after the war and now aesthetic education is important role in our education of teacher.

Just how aesthetic training is being molded and how seriously professional educators are taking puppetry is apparent in the initiation of a motivational pilot program, CEV, or "Total Aesthetic Education." Centered around the commitment to foster individual self-expression, the CEV project defines its four goals explicitly:

1. to develop and integrate the artistic creativity of the child;

2. to cultivate the child’s individuality and integrity;

3. to integrate all the arts, painting, dance, music, and puppetry and the 133

language of arts as a whole; and

4. to integrate this young individual into society.

Dora Gobec, the CEV coordinator for the Educational Research Institute at the

Edvard Kardelji University of Ljubljana explained that the fundamental rationale behind the program is to promote cultural identity for Slovene children. She told me: "In Slovenia principal sign of identity is culture." Moreover, in 1981, Slovenia became the first Yugoslav republic to require a regulated time period within the formal curriculum specifically devoted to culture and art. Out of this requirement the CEV project evolved. It is to be distributed in every school in three parts, one providing a methodological handbook; a second featuring "aids," materials for developing incentive for activities in design, costumes, puppets, and puzzles, etc.; and a third, "toy instruments" comprised of specific kits for the children to create their own costume, puppets, or puzzles. Since CEV expects both children and their teachers to become more motivated and creative, it provides numerous opportunities for individual activities (in its 120 preparation sheets and 64 teaching aids). The brightly colored, elaborately coordinated CEV package had already been tested by over fifty teachers when I met with Dora Gobec, and she was planning to circulate it in first and second grade classes throughout the republic.

Prior to developing the CEV package, Gobec canvassed and consulted with prominent Slovene artists, among them, Edi Majaron, to define both Slovene art and the objectives of its creators. Thus, the program rejects older, more dogmatic texts which state categorically "this is art" or "this is not art." Moreover it reflects

Slovene cultural leaders’ concerns with developing a high level of aesthetic 134 training for all Slovene children. While this project would be ambitious in any community, it - and puppetry’s major role in it as well - becomes culturally significant on a broader level, both because Ljubljana serves as Ihg center for cultural development and because Slovenia is a society determined to preserve and enrich its national culture.

Slovene Ethos and Puppetry

Each of the four seminal contributions, of the artist/broker, of amateurs, of native authors, and of educators examined in this chapter reveals the high level of individual, non-regulated participation in Slovene puppetry. Cumulatively these contributions also underline the overall design of their activities. Both dimensions manifest a fundamental Slovene value upholding community activity for the preservation of Slovene heritage and cultural integrity. Slovene puppetry, by all counts evaluated here, has evolved into a symbol representing that heritage and even more abstractly, Slovene ethos, and in pursuit of preserving that cultural integrity, whether consciously or not, Slovene puppeteers have structured and maintained puppetry according to how they are choosing to direct their future cultural course. In this, Slovene puppetiy stands apart from ritual or festival activity as a "celebration itself (Rice 1980). Slovene puppetry may have developed out of different purposes during its pre-World War Two days, but it has always had, and continues to accrue, symbolic significance.

Ethos has been defined as "... the moral (and aesthetic) aspects of a given culture, the evaluative elements..." which comprise "... the tone, character, and quality of their life, its moral and aesthetic style and mood: it is the underlying attitude toward themselves and their world..." (Geertz 1973:127). Cultural 135

anthropologists delve into these moral and aesthetic codes and specimens as a means of identifying the essential composition or cultural chemistry and through it, tracing dominant extensions in, for example, art (Geertz 1973; Witherspoon

1982). Using these codes as a comer stone, symbolic analysis assesses behavior and practice, stmctural frame and institution (Cohen 1980; Silverman 1983;

Turner 1974, 1982). Both approaches are especially enmeshed in the case of

Slovene puppetiy, through its natural evolution and the domination of socialist cultural policy. The following chapter focuses directly on theaters’ stmctural dimensions shaped and maintained by that policy; at present, however, our concern is with puppetry’s expression of ethnic character and values.

The two most salient features of Slovene acceptance of puppetry as ethnic marker, as a means of self-identity, are first, their perception of it as "Slovene tradition" and, second, for the perpetuation of that "tradition." The first endows

Slovene puppetry with symbolic value, the second aligns it to broader movement of national, ethnic, preservation. That Slovenes consider themselves ethnically, linguistically, and culturally different from Serbs, Montenegrens, Macedonians, and Bosnians, and Croats, as well as the numerous ethnic minorities residing in

Yugoslavia, is clear by their emphasis on cultural history, religion, and language as ethnic markers or emblems of cultural identity (See DeVos 1975; Keyes 1981, on ethnic maintenance; and Berger 1983, on the use of such markers).

In Slovenia, these emblems are intensified by current social and economic changes which carry ethnic competition and conflict to the forefront, marking a shift away from the ideals of early socialism and, increasingly, foreshadowing political change and fracture. Slovenes want to retain their economic edge and 136 are taking pragmatic steps in order to do so, steps which include holding multi­ party elections (May 1990) and voting secession from the Yugoslav Federation a constitutional right (June 1990).

Puppetry has become one kind of ethnic marker. Whether deliberately or nahirally, puppetry has come to represent Slovene ethos and, consequently, serves as a means of expressing self-identity. Slovenes define the Pengov style of poetic, gentle, and controlled marionette puppetry as a manifestation of Slovene character and values. Hobsbwam’s distinction between tradition, which is regulated by "constancy," and custom, which allows variation in so far as it merges with older practices (1983:2), allows us to see how Pengov’s puppetiy may be perceived as "tradition" and Papilu’s paper puppets as custom. Moreover, his analysis of the "invention" of tradition, of manufacturing and institutionalizing practice for "new national purposes" clarifies Slovene concentration on Pengov’s marionettes as tradition. (See Foster and Trevor Roper in Hobsbwam on Scots and Breton invention for political purposes.) Invention establishes a thing or practice as a potent, yet ambiguous symbol, one capable of gathering broader meaning as it circulates.

The perception of Slovene puppetry as "tradition" is widespread. Nearly all puppeteers, and many cultural leaders as well, summoned up the concept whenever questioned whether or not Slovene puppetry differed from other

Yugoslav puppetry, and if so, how exactly. While all agreed there was a marked difference, most refrained fi"om defining how so exactly. Rather, they broadly termed it as a difference of "tradition," encompassing therefore ideals, social values and aesthetic standards and styles. There are several dimensions of 137 puppetry as symbol, among them the emphasis on the individual, on cultural personality, on cultural identity and language, and on a cultural work ethic.

The association with puppetiy as an expression of Slovene value of the individual and of the Slovene practice of individual achievement was emphasized by different puppeteers:

I think maybe one of reasons is that we have tradition of people believing in this movement... Kuret, Pengov, KlemenCiC and here is really tradition of enthusiastic people who have ideas how to organize... Always some personality prepared to go on... here is Tine Varl, Edi, and Ignacije... (Professional puppeteer).

There are some very clever people who do believe that one or two people make a difference... that artist will have an influence on public culture... (Non­ professional puppeteer).

Yes, Slovene theater is different from Yugoslav theater puppetiy: it has marionette tradition and that needs smaller house to be good... we keep small hall for marionettes and little performances (LGL puppeteer).

Secondly, when discussing puppetry as a means for maintaining language, one

Slovene puppeteer explained:

... but last twenty years there is no more democracy, only one official language (Serbo-Croatian): the army wants us to create b o o k for all Yugoslavs only with little differences and it was labeled, "common nucleus" the idea that Slovene children ought to learn about some unimportant writer from Kosovo or Macedonia. But it’s more important we know our Slovenian authors... (Slovene professional puppeteer).

In addition, there is an even broader association with Pengov’s style, puppetry practice in general, tradition as a whole, and specific attributes of

Slovene personality:

I mean tradition is important in this theater... there is difference in temperament here... (LGL puppeteer).

Our (Slovene) feeling is different because we have different tradition: we live with Austria and Italy and our historical orientations are turned to west... and this I mean in our life and puppetry and our art... Slovenes maybe more poetic... (LGL director). 138

This adaptation is satirical... this is typical of Slovene tradition... (LGL dramaturge).

Puppetry is so strong here because this culture loves theater and symbolic thinking... our national character is very closed (our actors terrible) but as you go South they are better actors because they are extroverts and we’re introverts... so it’s easier for a closed character to handle a puppet and its fine work, subtle... and it’s more little and intense so puppetry’s convenient and besides you can hide yourself... you put everything in puppet... other Yugoslav puppetry too much acting not enough puppets, quality, push themselves not puppets... We bad actors who can do nothing with body but can work with puppets... (A veteran in Ljubljana).

The whole Yugoslavia except Slovenia this... but Slovene people are different. Yes, they are not so temperamental and if you look through history you see artists are a little closer to Europe than to South, Balkans. And these things can be seen in puppetry... we try to make these puppets like meaningful theater but South tries to put popular folk to make it more popular.

Yes... the Slovene point of view is different. Families in South live very close, many people in family society, you know and Slovenia is more independent: in these big families, in South, is still chief, an old man, and ways of life can be seen in performances — they like dances in these performances and they celebrate very strongly family occasions... but here no one makes decisions so democratic... (LGL actress/puppeteer).

Finally, along with the Slovene value of the individual, of the small and more precious, there is the identification of puppetry, including Pengov’s sense of perfection and the aesthetic standards which followed, with Slovene dedication and effort:

In Slovenia, I think the position of theater is stronger and puppet theater is too. I think people in Ljubljana most professional... they are hard working, working on and on to important level so they are not destroying project with all heart and soul; but there are actors fighting for repertory... they are highest professional level, in general... There are marvelous animators, best two or three in Yugoslavia and some marvelous actors who leave live theater to become puppeteers (Slovene artistic director).

Look, Slovenia very small people, nation: only two hours from Alps to Trieste and sea. Why such interest (in puppetiy) in Slovenia? Here we work hard, not like in the South... talk, talk, talk. We work today and talk tomorrow. Children love puppets; a man and a woman have each other... but children need puppets and to us children very special... (LGL administrator). 139

Conclusion

Such points of view reflect Slovenes’ many sided response to and acceptance

of puppetry on historical, aesthetic, psychological and social grounds. Moreover, they project deep satisfaction with puppetry as part of their cultural legacy, their fruitful and industrious development of it, and its nimble adaptability to their projected cultural and potentially economic and political autonomy.

From my perspective it appears that the "Slovene tradition" of puppetry centers less on style, which was derived from elsewhere, than on behavior and means and methods of achievement. While we have examined the extent to which earlier puppetiy concentrated on marionettes and excelled in gentle, graceful puppet character, narrative, and movement, Slovene puppetiy has more recently branched elsewhere while retaining the marionette style as a symbol.

Slovene artists proved adept at keeping their eyes and minds open and receptive to other influences, synthesizing work from the wider artistic community, and assimilating it to suit Slovene tastes and currents. In this, Slovene puppeteers may be conforming to custom:

Slovene art is the artistic expression of a small nation which settled in an extremely busy intersection of routes leading from northern to southern Europe, and from East to West (In, Art Treasures of Slovenia 1985:18-20).

More to the point is how they succeeded, and I discern at least three patterns which have enabled Slovene puppeteers to reinforce their puppet activity.

First, they have scrupulously upheld artistic standards set by KlemenCiC, Pengov, and passed down thus, to Majaron, Varl, and Sitar today. Perhaps more than a singular style, such attention to detail and perfectionism constitutes a genuine

Slovene tradition. Secondly, these artists have effectively hooked puppetry into 140

four important cultural channels: the education system (through CEV program,

as well as social and ideological value on children); the artistic community

(through their artistic bonds to UNIMA and other artistic/cultural organizations

and festivals); offîcial culture (through the association with the Kankajarev Dom

in Ljubljana and access to cultural councils); and the economy (not only via state

support but through the LGL’s contacts with big industry which will be examined

in the next chapter). And, thirdly, they have developed a supportive and active

network among amateurs and professionals, students and adults, among

puppeteers and other artists, and finally among the puppet theater and its local

community.

Thus, Slovene puppetry may be surpassing its own expectations in terms of

artistic merit, international achievement, preservation of cultural heritage, and

community activity. Its advance from unassuming entertainment to all purpose

cultural symbol reflects, too, the seriousness with which Slovenes take their art

and ethnic culture as well as in providing a climate conducive to growth and

development. Currently, with economic and political achievement at risk, this

intensity has acquired a new edge, reinforcing puppetry’s usefulness in

cultural/language maintenance: "Combined with language, the arts helped

Slovenes to keep their identity, serving as a reliable support in moments of crisis"

(In. Art Treasures of Slovenia 1985:20). In the final evaluation, while the individual parts are well-defined and carefully formed, the continued advancement

of puppetry stems from the greater dynamics produced by activity across the board so that, in the words of one Slovene puppeteer: "Puppets are not just alive in puppet theater but they are all around us." CHAPTER VI

PUPPETRY AS A STATE INSTITUTION: THE

CASE OF z a g r e b a Ck o k a z a l i St e

LUTAKA (1948 - 1988)

Introduction

None of the five features evaluated in the previous chapter as central to the motivation and momentum of Slovene puppetry is an exclusively Slovene property or characteristic. Rather, research in Zagreb indicates that cultural brokers, amateur puppeteers, educators involved in puppetry, and contemporary artists also participate in puppetry but in secondary roles instead of the more direct, influential ones examined in Chapter V. Moreover, while such features contributed to the early development of puppetry in Zagreb, their importance was eclipsed after 1948. That officially supported theater became the dominant force in maintaining puppetry in Zagreb is in itself not remarkable, but the way that relationship shaped both the theater and its own relationships within the community is of interest.

This chapter focuses on the structural framework of the ZagrebaSko

KazaliSte Lutaka (the Zagreb State Theater or the ZKL) by examining its operating rationale, fiscal means, management, and agenda. In so doing I identify the theater’s leaders, their subordinates, and their roles within the company and outline the daily routine and seasonal course they pursue. A walk through a

141 142

typical day at the ZKL adds further dimension to these features, concretely

describing how things really work, as well as conveying a sense of the character

and inner drama of puppet theater. In addition to the mechanical aspects of the

theater, issues concerning goals, expectations, community relations, and symbolic

properties will be assessed. This analysis is neither an artistic nor a social critique

but is an attempt to interpret the implementation of cultural policy and to

perceive how that policy is integrated into broader cultural norms and patterns.

Socialist Policy and the Arts

In many ways puppetry was an ideal tool for socialists striving to carve out a

model proletarian state. It was youth oriented, rooted in rural tradition, or so

they announced, naturally didactic, and relatively unfettered by middle class

trappings. What the state’s initial expectations of puppetry entailed and how it fit

into a socialist scheme for a modern society is clarified by the policies they

enacted and by the formation of the state theaters themselves.

The enfolding of first the Zagreb theater and later the puppet companies of

Belgrade and Ljubljana into the state system was a relatively smooth transaction

for a number of reasons. It afforded artists security and status, supplanting

continuous cash shortages and makeshift stages with a modest income, permanent

hall, and a routine performance schedule. Individual puppeteers, now salaried professionals, were associated with officially sanctioned art. Commissioned to provide conununity children with their first exposure to the theater, they were

entrusted to contribute even more: insight into an ordered and moral society.

On a different level, state sponsorship afforded puppeteers unprecedented opportunity to devote themselves full-time to their work and to pursue new artistic 143

directions, whether expanding their repertoiy or experimenting with form and

technique. It was during the first years under the state system that puppet performances in Zagreb developed from one act scenes to complete plays.

Thirdly, puppetry became formally linked to the greater urban community at a

time when that itself was expanding at an unprecedented rate, drawing more workers from rural areas. Whereas earlier puppetry attracted an older, well

educated set, the puppetry of the 1950s and 1960s was inaugurated to reach primary school children. At the center of the ZKL’s contract was a pre-arranged number of performances for local schools. It is an arrangement which is secure today even as the theater seeks to attract older audiences.

It is, then, in the context of a developing socialist state out to change the operating conditions and rules on all levels within society that the policy guiding post-war puppet theater must be placed. Tito earmarked kultura as a highly visible vehicle for promoting social and economic change, for emphasizing political identity, and for representing classless enlightenment on a national scale.

Doder argues that Yugoslavia’s general policy and expectations of culture are assessed by: 1. official policy; 2. actual increase of cultural institutions; and 3. the informal evidence of art and the attitudes of artists through their work

(1978:196-197).

All official publications about Yugoslavia prominently feature a section on culture which emphasizes its varied, rich "tradition," its multi-ethnic composition, its diverse history, and its success in bringing culture to all citizens. In addition, while ideologists at the central government create policy, the arts, theater, and education are all under the jurisdiction of each local community and it is that 144 local initiative which forms the base of artistic, educational, and scientific activity today. The 1974 Constitution clearly defines the relationship between citizen/local community and cultural institution. According to the Federal

Secretariat for Information (1985), the constitution:

... provides for new forms whereby the citizen exerts a influence over all social activities; now representatives of work and social organizations, artists and other people active in the arts, culture, science and education adopt developmental programs in all these fields and decide on investments and the financing of cultural activities. The delegational system ensures the direct influencing of the working people on the shaping and implementation of cultural policy. Participation thereby assumes deeper significance, for each citizen is actively involved in cultural and overall social policy-making (1985:67).

As stated and practiced, this policy is a far ciy from the earlier, dominant stamp of post-war socialist realism. Tito’s eventual political break with the Soviet Union and Cominform also severed Yugoslavia’s formal alliance with Soviet cultural policy. Nonetheless certain features of Soviet ideology and even socialist realism were retained which include interest in the "folk arts," in Slavic tradition, in strong ties between arts and pedagogy, and finally, the adoption of morality as a base component (see Blumenfeld 1968).

What followed was the maintenance of culture as political expression, particularly of ethnic discord, as evidence of classless, democratized Yugoslavia, and as advertisement for future order and objectives (Doder 1978:195-197). The political leaders of the fifties and sixties, dedicated to shaping a Yugoslav socialist state, targeted educational and cultural organizations on a major scale: they reoriented their operations and tracked their development to conform to ideology and to serve society or the community as a whole, rather than to meet individual self-interests. Doder explains and criticizes their approach thus: "Local leaders 145

confronted the party’s tasks by resolving problems piecemeal, by establishing

without thinking of future overall needs" (1978:196). He concludes: "The

problem with Yugoslav culture is that it is governmental" (1978:199).

Where, between the official statement and the journalist’s view, does

Yugoslav culture stand at present? Puppet theater provides one means of

measurement. The ZKL is part of larger theater grid which includes over one

hundred state theaters throughout Yugoslavia. By comparison there were three

puppet theaters in 1948 (Belgrade, Ljubljana, and Zagreb), and while this trio

dominated the art for twenty years, a crop of new, younger and more

experimental theaters sprang up in the past twenty years from Maribor to Mostar.

Theaters are part of a concentrated effort to establish a statewide cultural

base. Museums, art galleries, libraries, training and secondary schools, and

universities were all beneficiaries of Tito’s design for Yugoslavia. The rise in

university education is one indication of how far the state has advanced. In

Croatia in 1948 (a time when new and returning numbers of students were at a

new peak), there were 900 university graduates; in comparison, over 12,000

students graduated thirty-five years later and while there had been three universities in 1948, there were 19 throughout the republic in 1987 (Yugoslavia

Office of Information 1987).

Universities, libraries, theaters and galleries all operate under the umbrella organization, the "Council of Culture." Each city and each republic is governed through its own legislature. In each governing system there are numerous organs, one for every social, economic, or political unit, including the arts. The Zagreb

"Council of Culture" consists of five hundred delegates who are elected to four- 146 year terms and who represent one of two sorts of groups, either each factory, the

"customers of culture," or each cultural institution, the producers of culture. At present, the Zagreb "Council of Culture" oversees ten or more theaters, including the satiric and puppet theaters, forty museums and smaller galleries, the faculties of the University of Zagreb, and scores of local libraries.

An executive committee of thirty members heads this robust council.

Composed of leaders of the cultural community this group carries out the leg-work and is responsible for submitting proposals to the main council for approval. While the two key positions are held by the president, elected by his colleagues on the council, and the secretary, a salaried employee of the council, the executive committee selects and shapes programs but lacks any real authority beyond that: it is

... formed only with authority of suggestion, no power itself. We have no cultural minister in Yugoslavia... we have only these committees with power to nominate these artists, to suggest some prizes, to represent our cultural interests on international level (Professional Croat puppeteer).

The Croatian "Council of Culture" is a corresponding body of the republic’s

General Assembly and its functions and organization parallel those of the city council. Most other republics are similarly structured with bi-level cultural committees. In Slovenia, for example, the republic’s "Council of Culture" consists of two hundred forty delegates, while the cultural council of Ljubljana is made up of one hundred twenty to one hundred forty members. Like its Croatian counterparts, these councils are representative of two groups, the "customers of culture" and the members of the artists’ professional union. Within those councils, individual committees of twelve members preside over the different branches of culture, theater, film, ballet, music and libraries, etc. In this way, approval and 147

funding are provided from at least four major sources and to some, that very

breadth of contact between the arts and the community is a positive sign:

Each branch of our committee is organized like this and you can imagine how great a mechanism it is. That is the same for health, education, soci^ issues, urban life, water, ecology. Every one is in a way part of the "big" (Slovene puppeteer and council member).

In the past, one percent of individual city or republic revenue was set aside

for the cultural committee. Recently, however, the federal government, faced with increasing inflation and devaluation, intervened into regional and local allocations of funds. In February 1987, Belgrade mandated that cultural funds be derived solely from surplus factory profits. In addition, cultural programs had to compete for this money with other social services, such as health. Finally, a fixed ceiling was set on the amount allocated for cultural activity.

The reaction among puppeteers I met was mixed. Some were alarmed by the measure and its impact while others seemed to take it in stride with a shrug.

Several concerns were expressed by the less sanguine: that the principle of self- determined spending was violated by federal regulation; that culture was pitted against other social organizations and services; that the financial limit was in effect a no-win situation; and that there was no standard measurement for predicting the profit margin, if any, of the factories. In the summer of 1987, the temporary legislation had been extended indefinitely, and with that extension grew further concern about the ramifications for cultural activity:

The central government made this dictate to make better the economic situation in this country. But it’s really silly... all money for culture is so small they try... and so this cultural authority wanted to assure money for people permanently earning in cultural institutions, in theater, opera, museums. But that means these cultural institutions are undercut. For noninstitutional artists, free-lancers that is, problem is the same. Some theaters it is cheaper to cancel some performances... for theater it is cheaper for people to have 148

their salaries without paying anything - no costs for theater maintenance, special consignments. Cheapest performances are theaters on wheels. It is really a paradox against the cultural politics that we built over the years (Veteran professional puppeteer).

While the regulation is intended to ease the financial strains of industry, its effects on cultural activity add to the increasing financial strain for theaters and other art institutions. For theater directors and festival organizers who were already facing escalating costs, planning the budget was a difficult and risky task.

Moreover, puppeteers in Slovenia and Croatia, while concerned about themselves, were worried about their colleagues in other republics where there was even less assurance of factory profits being distributed to cultural organizations. The federal regulation was:

... one of these laws helping factories not going too well: to help eliminate them from paying for funds for health, education, culture when they don’t have spare... But we have not so bad here (Slovenia) but much worse in Macedonia, Serbia, also Bosnia and Hercegovina where they have no cultural authority - highest level of cultural authority is on each town level. For example, in Mostar, they have a lot of factories but some of them are going very wrong... they have many factories with something going very wrong but they (theaters) must work. They have two theaters, museums, etc. in Mostar and they must decide what is possible to support now (Edi Majaron).

Majaron concluded on a more optimistic note for Slovene and Croat cultural activity: "It is not the same situation here: here is more economic reasons for impressions of culture." In both cases the community and republic committed themselves by providing funding and support for forty years. Despite claims by artists that cultural programs were underfunded, there had been a history of guaranteed support. While Croat puppeteers bemoan the fact that on the whole

"culture is not paid enough here," one acknowledged that, "Without republic and city funds our theater could not make it... we would have to charge so much children (for) admission and people could not afford it" (Veteran professional 149 puppeteer).

Initially socialist leaders adopted puppetry in particular because of its suitability for moral and patriotic sentiment. In this it parallels other cultural policy in neighboring socialist states as well: "The purpose of Bulgarian cultural policy is not to preserve tradition on the level it has been, but to direct it to such a course of development which will bring it in harmony with contemporary cultural needs" (Silverman 1983:60). Beneath the functional aspect of the state’s commitment to puppetry and other cultural expression are some symbolic and less clearcut reasons for support. To some extent the success of cultural programs like puppetry represented or legitimized Yugoslavia’s own efforts to become a modem, democratic and non-aligned socialist state. Moreover, in 1948 by harnessing

Pengov and Rabadan into the drive for kultura. the government was enlisting a younger generation who had not been fully exposed to previous, established culture and whose artistic activity could be paired with the political goals of the new state. While intent on changing culture, the new leaders nonetheless maintained a long-standing appreciation of the role of the artist/intellectual.

Gomori argues that throughout Eastern Europe in the last century, "... the writer became an institution" because there was no other formal critique of social experience and thus, one or a handful of intellectuals served as an entire middle class, rejecting or criticizing the status quo (Schopflin 1970). The artist’s role in political activity in Eastern Europe remains potent as we have witnessed recently in Czechoslovakia with the influence and presidency of Havel. Commenting on the general climate throughout the region, one critic writes:

Art still stirs strong feelings and affects the daily life of the intellectual community... Painting, poetry, drama and music represent both social action 150

and individual sanctuary (Blumenfeld 1968:260).

The ZagrebaCko KazaliSte Lutaka

Zagreb’s puppet theater, commonly referred to as the ZKL, is located in the

heart of the Lower Town, the city’s civic and cultural center. It is an ordered

district which bears the stamp of Austrian city planning and autocratic rule. The

theater, or rather the courtyard which envelopes it, faces Trg Tomislava, one of a

triad of connecting parks framed by striking nineteenth century edifices, the

Central Railroad Station, the Hotel Palace, and the domed Arts Pavillion. Upon

completion in the 1880s, this mall signaled the transformation of Zagreb from a

provincial town to a cosmopolitan Central European city of nearly 80,000

inhabitants.

A century later Zagreb’s population was approximately one million, and the

city now extends well beyond its former, natural borders, from the hill of the

Medvenica Mountain to the north and across the Sava River, to the west. The

recent, dramatic extension of city lines (across the Sava) signaled the post-war

development of Novi Zagreb, a high rise subcity designed according to the

architectural standards of socialist realism. Currently a newer urban complex

stands beyond it, creating an even more distinctive link between Zagreb and once

remote farms. What is interesting about this new section of Novi Zagreb is the visible means by which the city tried to improve on a modem development. City planners incorporated social spaces, traditional gathering spots such as cafes and

open air markets, which had been streamlined for the original, highly functional

Novi Zagreb of the 1950s. The overall scale is decidedly more human and less austere: a series of apartment clusters, varying in height but not exceeding eight 151 stories, contrasts to the spartan symmetry of the uniform, fifteen, or so, story high towers of Novi Zagreb (Spangler 1983).

To some extent, the puppetry of the ZKL is also trying to redefine an image developed a generation earlier. While never as wedded to the tenets of social realism that the architecture of Novi Zagreb manifests, the theater’s puppetry was nevertheless molded to accommodate socialist values and even streamlined to echo artistic standards associated with social realism. During my stay at the theater, an effort to move beyond a tried format and to extend into new areas and in so doing, even reincorporate older cultural values such as folk elements, was occurring with certain success and interesting side effects. The specific course of the new direction charted by the ZKL’s young administrator, Cornelia Covic, in

1985, and the artistic and structural ramifications which followed will be examined here.

Thus while puppet plays had been performed in the rooms off Trg Tomislava for well over seventy years, long before the organization of state cultural institutions, the aesthetics and motivations have acquired radically different symbolic meaning in that time. As Zagreb has come of age as a commercial center, the city puppet theater is in the midst of creating a new identity and of coming to terms with former accomplishments and current weaknesses. It was a period of transition for the ZKL, and I believe one which continues at present as the state itself is in the midst of political reorientation and cultural change.

Early Puppetry in Zagreb

The puppetry which emerged in Zagreb during the 1920s marks an early attempt to create a modern, western identity on the part of a young set of artists and 152 intellectuals. In part their involvement with puppetry signaled a breaking away from Austro-Hungarian culture and a turning towards things modem and, in particular, French. These were amateur puppeteers, intent on cultivating the artistic milieu of salons in Paris: Malcom Cowley wrote of the lure of Paris for a generation of Americans after World War One, and there was similar appeal for young Yugoslav intellectuals, new citizens of a newly established state.

At least two sets of puppet activity can be traced to this era. Ljubo Babic, a noted Croat painter, founded the city’s first puppet company in 1920. Records at the Institute for Croatian Theater document a "Faust"-like string play at the

"Marionette KazaliSte" in 1926. Babic and two colleagues performed for children, but the group separated when Babic moved to Spain and then reorganized a short time later upon his return to Zagreb. In the mid-thirties, unable to succeed financially, the theater permanently closed.

Meanwhile, a different sort of puppet theater was appearing at private soirées. Although initially organized as entertainment or literary diversion for a circle of artists and writers, puppets eventually appeared alongside French classical dramas and light operas. At first, the French Institute served as unofficial sponsor for these performances (held in French for the most part) of the "Companie de Jeune" as they called themselves. Then, shortly before the outbreak of World War Two, the Institute was closed for "... political reasons... not officially closed but ceasing to function properly," according to one source in

Zagreb. Rehearsals continued at the apartment of one of the performers, Vlado

Habunak, a music teacher who, until sent home to "be useful" before the war, had studied abroad. It may have been Habunak who incorporated the ballet and 153

opera performances which ushered comic puppetry into the company’s repertoiy.

There is little evidence of performances continuing throughout the war in

Zagreb; certainly there is no lore about any partisan puppetry as exists in

Slovenia. However, performances did resume after the war and again Habunak

played a major role, keeping the focus on artistic entertainment for aspiring

artists. Performing in a small hall at the Friar’s Monasteiy, the group expanded

its repertoiy to include children’s entertainment. However, the players eventually

ran into criticism from local authorities, causing them to turn seriously to

puppetry.

But they had some political problems then, sometime after the war... it was our new socialist society and social realism was preferred and only allowed. And they were doing Villions and some dramas that were considered avant garde and not "good," not acceptable to standards set by social realism. The plays I can’t say were prohibited because that’s not documented... they were just told not to do it. They, Habunak and friends, wanted to go on with performances so they again looked to puppets because government thought: that’s just for children and it won’t be harmful. Now puppet (shows) are all in Croatian language (Zagreb amateur puppeteer).

At this point, Habunak’s group consisted of ten to twelve part-time performers,

most of whom studied music or art at the academy and who knew little about

puppetry. Gradually they began experimenting with movement, often practicing

eight or ten hours a day, and their performances grew increasingly innovative as

they worked with first glove, then rod puppets. Of their endeavors, one puppeteer

commented that they "...were not so realistic: they were not grotesque, more

fantasy. I think eyes in one performance were not painted but were expression,"

While they may have altered performances to embrace puppetry as the vehicle for their plays, they were still intellectually involved with the avant garde. The ensemble worked together for over a year, often performing in schools, always 154

strapped for funds, and resisting parental pressure to pursue more lucrative interests.

A turning point came in the summer of 1947 when Habunak toured Istria with eight members of the company. For nearly three weeks they became itinerant players performing in villages without electricity which meant that all music had to be performed live. Their repertory was a curious mix of highbrow and popular selections. Out of eleven short plays, five were based on classical music including Tchaikovslty’s "Serenade," Debussie’s "Minuet" and Chopin’s

"Waltz in C Minor," three were Chekhov adaptations, one dramatized a story by

August Senoa, and the remaining works were a selection of folk melodies and a political piece about a young pioneer, which was doubtlessly included to appease authorities. Although the tour was a success, the company returned home exhausted and demoralized. One source who had interviewed Habunak earlier explained their state of mind to me:

They thought they couldn’t go on... no money and many problems altogether. But a Ministry of Art and Culture from Belgrade sent them a letter saying, ‘We heard you are best company and we want to finance you.’ Why? They wanted to support what was best in whole country: that was the time they tried to educate people and to expose them to arts (Croatian amateur puppeteer).

Inexperienced and underpaid, the group of young puppeteers managed to attract official recognition by sheer determination, developing a cultural base which just happened to involve puppetry. Thus, from the onset the conditions under which puppet performers reached an accord with the state differed in Zagreb and in

Ljubljana. Whereas KlemenCiC and later Pengov had fully embraced puppetry itself and were conunitted to developing puppet art, their colleagues in Zagreb were more involved in general cultural activity. Belgrade officials offered 155

Habunak 400,000 (old) dinars (less than $1,000) to perform under contract to the

city. Before the offer was accepted, however, the local authorities in Zagreb

intervened: "Then the Republic of Croatia said, ‘Aha! We, not Serbian

government, will give funds for Croatian art, so in 1948 they gave money. They wanted Croatian theater for (Croatian) children" (Zagreb amateur puppeteer).

Thus, as in Slovenia, national identity has long been associated with puppet performances and cultural activity.

While the funds and status were welcome, they could not alleviate all of

Habunak’s difficulties. On the one hand it became clear that they were not puppeteers by training:

...in a way that having funds was easier but now they had more people and maybe they made more mistakes with new people... Before Habunak knew all people and what was good and how to make it work. Now too many people, many of those are still there or were until recently (Zagreb amateur puppeteer).

Still other problems forced Habunak to resign from the company. Although artistic differences became the preferred official explanation, my informant believed the main issue was personal:

Also a scandal in Zagreb because they were homosexual and maybe because of that there was something wrong in the company and they don’t want to talk about it and problems in the company and problems with the authorities and problems artistic, which were never resolved (Zagreb amateur puppeteer).

Devastated, Habunak isolated himself from the theater permanently.

Thus, within a year of its contract with the government, the city puppet theater was reformed with an almost entirely new staff and with it a renewed commitment to children’s theater. Under the direction of young drama professor,

Vojmil Rabadan, the ZKL returned to the small theater off Trg Tomislava.

Rabadan felt that puppet theater must be shaped to meet the needs and demands 156 of young audiences. He wanted a theater that was designed technically and artistically for children; he wanted to create theater that was, above all, intimate:

"... theater should not be too grand, too big, not too many characters... one or two central ones, that’s all. Small rooms for small groups, small idea" (Vojmil

Rabadan). Rabadan had worked previously in professional theater and his training distinguished his productions from those of Habunak. Moreover, it shaped his understanding about what makes good puppet theater. He felt strongly that the challenge of working with children’s theater lies in perfectly extracting the central idea or symbolic detail which provides the logic of the performance: "If you write for children, it is very difficult to make it understandable, to make it appear simple: La principe est la même mais c’est la presentation qui était toute différente."

In addition, Rabadan altered the tone of Zagreb puppet theater by replacing the romantic works favored by Habunak with classics from children’s literature, stories by Perrault, the Brothers Grimm, Dickens, and L. Frank Baum. He also incorporated native writers such as Senoa, Copié, and Brlic-Mazuranic into the repertory on a larger scale than ever before. Rabadan’s emphasis on sculpting performances to suit children also led him to redesign the look of the ZKL’s puppets, and, rejecting the papiér-maché expressionistic puppets of Habunak, he created far more realistic, traditional figures. Thus, in design, narrative, and approach Rabadan shifted the theater’s direction and in so doing underscored the state’s ideological commitment to its youngest pioneers.

Rabadan recounted several examples of how he reworked material to suit his audiences, and I think he felt that this rendering of stories for the children of 157

Zagreb was one of the major contributions of his theater. In one instance, a writer submitted a script about a city child who had never seen a garden or heard the birds sing; so far so good, he told me but then explained how the author littered the narrative with purely adult material that bore little meaning for children:

But the writer wasn’t at all satisfied: she had decided she must invent a more complicated story and then there was a father who had a mistress, his secretary, which added another dimension to the boy’s misery. It was a disaster because the original part of the story, a boy without nature, had quite enough... it was simple and full.

While he agreed that children’s theater needed to address children’s questions and confusions about life, he felt that they need be approached from a child’s perspective:

For example there is a story by the Brother’s Grimm... it is very sad, very cruel. So I changed the text a bit. In between two extremes you have to have an idea to present to children... they need to know about growing up and the dangers of the world. In "Little Red Riding Hood," the world represented by the wolf beyond her home but it can’t be too terrifying for them to see. Here is distinction between performance, seeing it, and reading it. So I don’t make wolf as terribly vicious as in the original story (Vojmil Rabadan).

Puppet plays such as "Loptica Hoptica" (Little Striped Bouncing Ball") the

Czech play successfully performed by Pengov in Ljubljana, perfectly suited

Rabadan’s approach to children’s theater. Whimsical and charming in their own right, they appeal to a child’s perception of what is real and what is not, what is comforting and what may be threatening. These plays respect what he called children’s "own philosophy for growing up" and I think Rabadan’s work showed a consistently high regard for the intelligence and imagination of his audience.

Especially when dealing with children’s theater, another element of the fantastique must be there for there is a special ‘country’ in which the young exist and often the central action is between that dimension and the adult world (Vojmil Rabadan). 158

Rabadan brought nearly forty plays to the Zagreb puppet theater. These

works established a base repertoiy that continues to be built upon today. Vojmil

Rabadan’s puppetry made an impression on a generation of community

schoolchildren, many of whom are now bringing their own children to the theater.

It is the stuff of their 1950s childhood, pre-TV memories. It also influenced

scores of young primary school teachers who began modeling class puppetry after

his approach. Moreover, that philosophy was well suited to the national appetite

for cultural literacy and clearcut values concerning family and social order. There

was little that was radical or even pretentious in his puppetry’s message, but it was

modern and "advanced" in its psychological approach to child development.

According to my source, Rabadan’s vision of puppetry as meaningful and socially

relevant entertairunent for children so blended with official ideology that, far from

creating any "misunderstanding" with the government, he substantially increased

the theater’s income.

Does Rabadan thus fit the mold of cultural broker outlined in the previous

chapter? Certainly his artistic and social contributions are numerous. He not

only got the ZKL off the ground in its early days, he expanded as well as nurtured

its development. However, his tenure at the theater was fairly short and while

length by itself is insignificant it is interesting that his work is not fashionable or

remembered often. Even though he remained active in amateur puppetry and professional theater in the city until his death in 1988, his reputation in Zagreb never achieved the stature of KlemenCiC or Pengov.

In 1955, Radovan Wolf entered the scene. A former student at the Drama

Academy he initially came to work under Professor Rabadan. The arrangement 159

was unsatisfactory for them both: "There was great fight between Radovan and

Professor Rabadan: they were two very strong personalities" (Zagreb puppeteer).

Shortly thereafter Vojmil Rabadan left the ZKL. While Rabadan had focused on

narrative and how to best suit children’s needs, Radovan Wolfs interests lay

fostering a sense of greater professionalism in the theater. Recruiting colleagues

from the Academy, he continued to raise the performance standards, infusing new

energy into puppet theater. It is my sense that in his drive to make the theater a

more professional, he may have concentrated on creating polished, brilliantly

performed theater and he increasingly overlooked the intimacy, warmth, and child

directedness of Professor Rabadan’s best work. Between the two of them,

however, they created a strong repertory, organized a cadre of capable

performers, and developed a good working relationship with the community and

its leaders. In most respects, then, the ZagrebaCko KazaliSte Lutaka was

maturing along the lines KlemenCiC had recommended for puppetry in Ljubljana

over thirty years earlier.

Contemporary Puppetry at the ZKL

The next twenty-five years produced a range of puppetry covering visually

innovative theater and clever, formulaic productions. Four stages mark this

period of the ZKL’s development. The decade between the late 1960s and 1970s were the very center of this era. It was a time when the company established a

reputation for pristine, polished theater in which the look, designed by Berislav

DeÈiliC, often superseded narrative. Before and after De2iliC’s tenure, the ZKL

continued performing but seemed to be treading water, rather than making artistic

strides. To some degree the theater was handicapped by first a physical loss and 160 later, after De2ilié’s death, a creative loss. By the time I arrived at the theater the director was attempting to recapture the potential from a now faded reputation and to infuse vitality into Zagreb puppetry which, unlike its counterpart in Ljubljana, appears to have by-passed an experimental stage during the 1960s.

In 1962 a fire forced the ZKL to evacuate the theater hall. It is my speculation that the transitional period which followed curtailed artistic growth and reduced the stability needed for experimentation. One puppeteer described the company’s nomadic existence during this time: "In eleven years it was in whole town, different places all time, at FID, Gavella, schools... it was very difficult" (ZKL Veteran puppeteer). The loss of its stage, at a time when the

ZKL was expanding its repertory and continually refining its productions, had numerous consequences for the form and artistry of its puppetry.

While there are may have been some satisfaction in returning puppetry to the streets, the loss of its theater created logistical problems, causing the players to rely on portable sets and less elaborate puppets. It was at this time that the

ZKL depended almost exclusively on rod puppets. Sturdier than marionettes and more visible from a distance than glove puppets, they were practical during the

ZKL’s move from theater to school to local hall. Rod puppets had the additional advantage of being performed from behind a paravan, a tall screen which served as painted scenery on the audience side and which shielded the puppeteers from the audience as well. Most puppet theaters throughout Eastern Europe used the paravan at certain times for specific kinds of performances. The ZKL’s use of the paravan, in comparison, became so consistent that it became the theater’s trademark and was maintained long after other companies had moved on to 161

different performance styles.

Just how greatly the lack of their own stage and the reliance on the paravan

constrained the artistic growth or degree of experimentation is difficult to gauge.

Yet, certain records indicate a shift in the ZKL’s productivity and a decline in its

festival attendance. According to Sibenik’s anniversary publication, "Mali Veliki

Svijet" ("Big Little World") the ZKL’s participation during the 1960s was reduced.

In 1960, the Zagreb puppet company was invited to bring three plays to the

Festival Djeteta (Festival of the Child); from 1963 to 1970 it brought only three

altogether. Later, the ZKL performed at Sibenik annually through 1986, except

for two years (1979 and 1982). Selection for Sibenik is prestigious although

unofficially competitive and, while it remains dependent on the judgement of the jurors, it represents one measurement of artistic achievement.

Documenting over two hundred fifty-four puppet shows in twenty-five years,

the Sibenik records shed light on the general scope of puppet activity at this time

and indicate two distinct patterns. It reveals increasing participation from foreign

companies as the festival established its reputation. At first companies from neighboring Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Bulgaria attended, but by the early seventies, performers from Sweden, France, Holland, Norway, and the Soviet

Union were regularly joining them. Secondly, these records trace the development of other Yugoslav companies just at the time Zagreb had lost its theater. Most active were the once troubled LGL, which performed seven times from 1963, its first year at Sibenik, until 1970, and a group of smaller companies, many also state puppet theaters in Croatia, such as Rijeka, Zadar, and Osijek, while still others came from elsewhere in Yugoslavia, including Ni§, Mostar and 162

Banja Luka (Index. Dramski, glazbeni, i lutarski program na Jugoslavenskom

Festivalu 1985:431-447).

The ZKL’s own publication provides additional records of its activity. Even

though dates are not included in its twenty-fifth anniversary catalog (1948-1973,

Zagrebaéko KazaliSte Lutaka), the plays are listed in chronological order. Of the

101 puppet titles listed between 1948-1973, around fourteen new plays were

performed between 1963 and 1970. By comparison, under Vojmil Rabadan’s

direction in the 1950s at least thirty plays had been produced in five or so years.

Moreover, since the mid-1970s the theater has produced five new shows annually.

The years when the ZKL was without a stage following the fire, then, were clearly

the slowest for the company.

Another dimension that illuminates the transitory nature of the middle 1960s

is provided by analysis of its personnel. Records show a far greater number of

production directors (rezija) were involved then at the ZKL than at any other

time. Between 1948-1949 the ZKL produced eight plays, all by the same rezija

(Habunak); from 1950-1959, it produced just over forty plays enlisting four

different directors. In the 1960s, however, the ZKL used thirteen directors for

only thirty-six plays (of these, nineteen were created before 1963 and seventeen

from then until 1970). Later during the seventies, the ZKL’s production increased

the number of plays while only a handful of individual rezija were enlisted. By

comparison, the LGL created only one play between 1948-1949, twenty-four in the next decade (seventeen of which were directed by Pengov), and nineteen in the

1960s using ten directors. During the seventies the LGL produced their highest number, thirty-five plays created under thirteen rezija. 163

In short, during its most stable, productive seasons, the ZKL created a greater number of plays using a fewer number of rezija. The LGL chose a different course after Pengov: during the sixties it sought a greater number of directors in order to bring additional talent and artistic insight into its productions, to sample a variety of styles and not limit itself to one dominant imprint or personality. That practice continues today. Of the twenty-two plays produced by the LGL from 1985-1989, fourteen were directed by different rezijas.

The ZKL’s attachment to two or three main rezija indicates that it associates a permanent, select staff with stability and professionalism, electing these standards over experimentation and eclecticism.

The ZKL fire led to a set of consequences not easily measured. However, by the theater’s twenty-fifth anniversary, the quarters off Trg Tomislava had been restored and the company was prepared to move forward. Part of the drive of the seventies is connected to the resumption of regular performances, of course, but it is also directly attributed to the contributions of two new professionals. Their individual talents and their collaborations produced plays which lifted the ZKL out of its depression and restored its reputation as a leader of puppet theater.

A decade after his death, Berislav Deïilié remains the high priest of Zagreb puppet design today. De2iliô brought a singular, streamlined vision to puppet theater. Guided by the formal principles of Cubism he strove to pare design down to its cleanest lines. De2ilic’s influence is seen in the trend toward distinctive, classical puppets: the animals of "Tigrié" ("Little Tiger") are simple geometric stick figures, triangular heads atop the long rod poles, and his characters for "Carobnyk iz Oza" ("The Wizard of Oz") are basic cylinders 164 attached to rods. The sheer simplicity of these designs was startling and fresh, and it became symbolic of the ZKL’s renewed energy. The early 1970s were also a time of charged political activity, and while Croatian assertion of legislative freedom was stymied by the central government, the cultural and political atmosphere in Zagreb was similarly charged (Bridge 1975).

Contemporary puppeteers who remain from those days at the ZKL are emphatic about Deîilic’s legendaiy status. He is above all admired as a purist whose work was consistently "...identifiable. His idea was to have a puppet be like an illustration, to be perfect in an artistic sense. That aesthetic principle was for him more essential than how a puppet moved" (ZKL puppeteer). Color was a second critical element of his design. His puppets were often painted with bold primary colors and the effect was not unlike that of brilliantly colored abstract painting. In addition puppet shapes and features were aligned and uniform, and the absence of visual individuality carried over to the narrative as well. Not all productions adapted to this style. One veteran remembers the 1973 version of

"Zvjezdica Pospanka" ("Little Sleepy Star"): "... nobody could tell one puppet from another because they were so modern. It was impossible for children to understand them" (ZKL puppeteer).

On the whole, though, his technique pushed Zagreb puppetry to new artistic heights. Veteran puppeteers claim his performances were known throughout

Eastern Europe and certainly traces of his influence can be seen in some LGL productions of the mid to late 1970s.

Of the half-dozen Defilié designed productions I saw, one stands out today as a near perfect synthesis of aesthetics and performance. The reasons are 165

complex because the play itself is a rich blend of ritual movement, poetry, and

color, while the result is a classic rendition of a simple Croat folk tale, "Postolar i

Vrag" ("The Shoemaker and the Devil"). Deiilié’s black, red and white large

painted puppets move with formal grace; the narrators recite sparse, poetic lines

as if they were part of a traditional ritual. It is a timeless performance but not

necessarily one for children. It is slow, almost hypnotic and highly rhythmical, and

its austerity and colors contradict the warmth and soft glow of typical Yugoslav

children’s puppetry. His "Shoemaker" epitomizes his artistic ambition:

His puppet was very stylized. He was influenced by purity of abstract art before and after the war which was here but also throughout Europe. He wanted to simplify, to make puppet clean so that it was a thing in itself. He .. tried to have director simplify story so it is cleaner... (Croat Designer and ZKL Director).

Thus, there is a certain paradox in the fact that the puppetry recognized by the

public and professionally valued by its performers held the least meaning for local

children. It is a dilemma which may once again be appearing as the ZKL tries to

regain its artistic standards and to woo a broader audience.

De2ilié shared the artistic success of "Postolar i Vrag" ("Shoemaker and the

Devil") with its rezija. Davor Mladinov, who has served as the resident artistic

director at the theater for nearly twenty years and is responsible for the majority

of the ZKL’s contemporary productions. Mladinov’s plays are balanced,

artistically measured, and present a humanistic dimension which often softened

the clear edges of De2ilic’s abstract lines. A light touch and gentle humor

permeate his most popular works and while they lack the intensity of Majaron’s productions or the finesse of Pengov’s, Mladinov’s puppet plays are consistently

realized and highly professional in performance. 166

Mladinov chose a wide range of styles and textures with which to shape his

puppetry. During his years at the ZKL he has directed a traditional Russian

folktale ("Konjic Grbonic," "The Hunchbacked Horse") a comic Western ("Cactus

Story"), a futuristic Thumbelina ("Minica"), and an abstract "Wizard of Oz." In

addition, Mladinov has concentrated on dramatizing native stories for the puppet

theater and these include traditional folk tales, "Dugonja Trbonja, i Vidonja" for

example, as well as such twentieth century works as Senoa’s "Postolar i Vrag."

Thus, Mladinov has proceeded with one foot very much on native cultural soil and

another continually wandering international stages. Over the years, Mladinov has

cultivated a good, working relationship with the ZKL puppeteers. Assured of his professionalism and his personal warmth, they trust his judgement and respect his sense of what works well in puppet theater.

Several other directors named by puppeteers as influential in shaping the theater at this time are Berislav Brajkovic who worked alongside Radovan Wolf before moving on to the KazaliSte Lutaka of Rijeka; Branko Gavella; Bojan

Stupica, formerly a teacher at the Academy who was identified as a "magician in this field" by one of his students, now a veteran puppeteer, and Dunja

Thot-Subajkovic, a sometime rezija for the ZKL who currently resides in Austria.

Valued as their contributions may be, these individuals created a backdrop for the productions of De2ilic and Mladinov, whose work is held up as the model for puppetry by ZKL veterans today. In the following chapter, where the puppet narratives are analyzed according to form, characterization, theme, and symbolism, there will be further discussion of the technique and imprint of these two artists in the context of the shifting emphasis of the ZKL’s puppetry. 167

The ZKL At Work

Until now, the focus has been on the artistic leadership of Zagreb puppetry provided by a succession of talented individuals. Each brought different artistic dimensions to the ZKL and each targeted specific features for development.

Several groomed puppetry as a means for general artistic expression while others dedicated themselves to educating their public about puppet theater. That very range of interests and intentions clearly differentiates long term properties of

Zagreb puppet theater from that of the LGL where, under the "tradition" of

KlemenCiC, Pengov, and now Majaron and Loboda, puppet art remains the single, central focus.

If one source of tension within the Zagreb state theater is traced to the diverse goals or visions of its directors, another lies in its structural composition and rationale. State sponsorship enables artists to function, to create their art. It ensures certain security and status for those who qualify and for those who fit in with its purposes. But the Yugoslav system also requires a substantial organizational base or bureaucracy, one which can chafe against the very creative drive it is designed to promote. I now examine the way socialist policy shaped the working frame of the state puppet theater and consider the extent to which it promotes puppetry and enables puppeteers to follow their original charter. In addition, it is important to evaluate how it is evolving to meet contemporary social needs and adapting to a new emerging cultural climate.

By the mid-1980s the theater was again in the midst of change and, although a new artistic course was being set, there was considerable doubt about how to get there or what would follow. Several directors had maintained an even 168 management of the ZKL. It had swollen in size, employing forty-plus personnel, and it seemed wedded to its proven formula of large scale "comedies" played with rod puppets above a paravan screen. The voice quality of its performers was well- known and used to advantage by the paravan style. Yet, with the death of

De2ilié, the ZKL lacked strong leadership.

In 1985, Cornelia Covic was appointed Direktor by the Zagreb Cultural

Commission. A self-described "politico", she had previously worked with youth groups and had no professional theater training. From the start her appointment was controversial. One member of the committee who had objected strenuously to her appointment had also been interested in the position. Secondly, while there had been well respected female rezija. a "direktor" was another matter altogether. According to several informants, resistance to her leadership came not so much from the male performers, as from the female puppeteers as well as some members of the technical crew. Thirdly, not personally committed to the

ZKL’s paravan style and sensing that it had waned after taking a good look around festivals, she began to initiate stylistic and stmctural changes.

The Direktor is the theater’s chief officer and at the ZKL is in charge of all artistic, financial, and managerial decisions. Less visible but always behind her are the inextricable bonds which tie the theater to the cultural councils of Zagreb and Croatia, the govermnent bureaucracies which appointed the Direktor and to which she is continually accountable. Every spring the Direktor submits her budget for approval and it has been described as a political process. Appointed for a three-year term, the Direktor is subject to ongoing scrutiny regarding fiscal planning, artistic direction, spending, and cultural outreach, in part because she 169 must continually request additional funds for festival attendance and other special projects.

When I first arrived at the ZKL, Cornelia Coviô was starting her third year as Direktor. Readily acknowledging she was a managerial novice, she was philosophic about her chances for renomination in 1988. She was clear, however, about her goals for puppet theater. Foremost among them was her ambition to make the ZKL vital again, to create entertaimnent that "from the heart speaks to its audience." Faced with a stage filled with veterans, many of whom had performed since Habunak’s years there, she reduced the ZKL’s staff by cutting the number of full-time players from twenty-one to sixteen. She explained that, top heavy with personnel, they: "... were falling into a rut... and were behind equal theaters (in Ljubljana for example) in quality because of it."

Covic’s personnel decisions were not the only controversial features of her term. She encouraged artistic experimentation and sought to expand community support. Specifically Covic inaugurated smaller performances with one to three puppeteers, the "little forms" which had become a fixed part of the LGL’s repertory. These plays increased aimual performances from two hundred twenty to nearly five hundred. Moreover, they allowed puppetry to go out into the community, reversing the trend of state theater’s having the audience come to the stage. Highly portable and technically simple, the "little forms" were suited for performances in schools, libraries, even outdoor parks. By allowing plays to circulate throughout the city, Covié helped puppetry shed its formal, institutional character. These modest plays are specifically designed for children. They are physically and emotionally on a child’s level and within easy reach, and they are 170 vivid, tangible performances. As such, they renew puppetry's ritualistic properties

and, by their proximity and form, encourage audience participation so that they become a kind of dialogue between puppeteer and viewer. This re-established the

folk elements, those manifest in the semiotic meaning of performance rather than

the narrative per se, which (diminished by formal, polished theater) creates

"intimate communication in small groups" (Ben-Amos 1983).

On another level Covic worked to bring new artistic insight into puppet theater. She encouraged experimentation and allowed her players to "... take

certain liberties with text." Once she recounted the previous year’s festival performance of "Od Zlata Jabuka" where the outdoor "stage," a village square was filled with two thousand talking Italians: "... so the actors turned to pantomime and they left the text," substituting with bits of Italian and colorful phrases. The performance, initially a bomb, turned out a success when the Italians could understand the tone and visual symbols if not the words of the performance. In part the flexibility exhibited there is due to the kind of directors Covié had appointed: in this case, one who purposefully shaped the performance so that texture, the satiric, sexual, and political symbols and innuendos, prevailed over narrative line. With such emphasis, puppeteers are liberated from the text, and they are more inclined to improvise and to bend puppetry towards topical issues.

In pursuing a new course, Covié continually wooed outside directors into puppet theater and reduced Mladinov’s workload from three to two plays annually. ZKL veterans, content with Mladinov’s known style and consistent professionalism, were not pleased. At first, there were other obstacles besides these internal ones. When she first approached Zlatko Bourek, designer of "Od 171

Zlata Jabuka," he refused, objecting the ZKL’s staid style: "No, no, too many

blind people." Eventually he agreed to mount this production and later created

the set and puppets for the ZKL’s first adult "little form," "Teofraus" ("The

Gossiping"), directed by his long-time Slovene collaborator, Edi Majaron. Covié

also sought out younger, untried artists, composers, and directors and through

them tried to redefine the ZKL’s image and widen its audience. She did so at the

risk of alienating about one-third of her staff, those who felt that these younger

artists, inexperienced in puppet theater, could not match the ZKL’s former

standards. Covié disagreed, explaining to me:

It is very nice to have idea that we were twenty years artistic best in all Europe but only (really) in Eastern Europe... but to say two thousand people see us in Russia is fine but it’s normal there but we need to try to give (puppetry to all our people)...

While she worked on redirecting the artistic leadership, form, and scope of

puppetry, Covié could not restructure the organization or the theater herself.

Trimming the staff was only half a measure. She perceived the ZKL as oversized,

outmoded, and unsuited for contemporary, meaningful theater. By 1985 the

company had increased to nearly two dozen performers, in part, because the paravan style and larger theater space both encouraged larger, heavier rod puppets, and, in part, because larger had simply meant better to her predecessors.

Thus, during the seventies and into the eighties, the ZKL had shifted away from the intimate performances favored by Vojmil Rabadan and opted for full-blown spectacles in the Slavic, large ensemble tradition associated with Soviet puppetry.

Covié was less convinced: "And they had success for twenty years... but they were only biggest not perhaps best."

Directly beneath the Direktor is a small office staff responsible for the 172

budget, payroll, and other managerial tasks. These were the invisible members of

the ZKL staff who rarely frequented the stage areas or adjacent bar or fraternized

regularly with the other employees. The Business Manager, assisted by two

secretaries, was the main officer of this part of the theater and even their offices,

on the far side of the second story seemed removed from the principal theater

activity. The sole exception was the "Propaganda" chief, the man who handled

public relations and helped set the performance schedule. A former journalist, he

was part of the actors’ social set and he served as a frequent liaison between the

performers and the Direktor. He was also her righthand man, her confidant, and

her buffer with the staff at large. Along with Covic, he was responsible for

maintaining community relations and for negotiating with festivals both at home

and abroad.

Four subgroups complete the theater’s internal organization. The performers

are the largest and most vocal group. It is they who give the company its voice

and personality. Talented and well-trained, these six women and seven men are

consummate professionals. While expressing dissatisfaction with their roles, they

approach performances with a high level of expertise. Their vocal training is

exemplary and establishes them in another league from most western performers.

Over half of them studied drama at the Academy and trained as "live actors;" they

came to puppetry only when they could not find work as actors or if they had

moved from another region outside the greater Zagreb cultural community.

Three age sets formed the group of puppeteers. Five veterans who had been with the theater for well over fifteen and in some cases thirty years were set apart by experience and standards. Most had been trained, either formally or 173

infonnally, as puppeteers rather than dramatic actors, and two were considered

local treasures. Nevenka has one of the finest puppet voices in Yugoslavia and

Krsto, who for years had his own popular television show, is universally

acknowledged as a puppet master. If there is such a thing as star status in

puppetry, Nevenka and Crsto have it and are widely respected by colleagues

throughout the country.

A group of six younger puppeteers are the middle tier in the informal

organization of the ZKL. Most are married, with children, and since most of

them fall into the same age bracket (between thirty to forty-years old) they are

social as well as professional friends. In addition, most were trained at the

Academy as actors rather than puppeteers exclusively and this also distinguishes them from the veteran performers. They see themselves as a separate set from the older performers. It was this clique who was initially most heartened by

Covic’s changes: they endorsed the introduction of "little forms," even initiating one or two on their own; they were eager to step out from behind the paravan and interact directly with audiences; and they relished the kind of theater that, like "Od Zlata Jabuka" called upon them to individually enrich a performance.

Finally they strongly encouraged Covic to incorporate adult puppet plays into the repertory: as one performer explained, "There are only so many times I can play a rabbit and feel like an artist."

The performers were rounded off by a handful of part-time players. These young Turks, new wave actors, eschewed formal training and had learned their craft by appearing in plays like "Shakespeare, the Sadist" which were well-known in student circles. Some veterans found it difficult to work with them, especially 174 as they were unskilled at puppet manipulation, while others, particularly the middle set, found them iconoclastic and unfettered by the socialist system.

Actually, they were surprisingly unassuming and approachable. As committed to their values as the veterans, in some ways they bridged the distance between the veterans and the younger set.

The puppeteers are buttressed by three smaller groups, the designers, technicians, and maintenance crew. There are at least two full-time designers on staff, although special artists are recruited from time-to-time. Currently the two designers are young women in their late twenties or early thirties. Both come from families long involved in the arts both in Croatia and Slovenia, and both received professional training at the Academy. Unlike their young actor colleagues, they are challenged by the demands, artistic and technical, of puppet design. For the most part, the designers are set apart from the daily chores and schedules of the performers and crew. They socialize amongst themselves, preferring to serve coffee in their open, garret workroom crowded with puppets in-the-making. There is a detached calm in those quarters where they are always one or two steps ahead of current performances. Thus, they have relatively little contact with the rest of the company except for the individual rezija with whom they collaborate, and I found the only way to meet them was on their own territory.

There were two main technicians, one for lighting and one for sound and he was the chief of the engineering booth. They were often assisted by one or two workers, depending on the complexity of the performance. Both took their work seriously and not infrequently offered advice to the rezija. Of the two, the 175

lighting engineer was well established as a member of the central social set of

young actors and always socialized with them in and out of the theater. His

family also had roots in the arts: one of his grand-parents had been a crew

member of the old Opera House and had practically raised his children there.

The other engineer was more socially removed. While he frequented the theater

bar which was leased to his wife or girlfriend, he remained an outsider to any of

the other sets within the theater. He held strong views on the way things ought to

be run and these proved to hold meaning in the course of the next year especially.

Even though these individual sets had little social contact and less in common,

they were each considered part of the professional team which makes the theater

work.

There was a major division between them and the maintenance crew which

operated along class lines. Less educated, less affluent, less middle class, the crew

also had their own social gathering spots both within the theater building and out

at the neighboring bars. Two cleaning women also sold tickets during

performances. The seamstress worked in the second floor atelier but socialized in

the downstair back hall and also helped with props for traveling shows. The two

main stage hands worked behind the sets during performances and drove the ZKL

truck, ferrying props around the city. One crew member who was especially well-

informed about the technical side of performance also belonged to an amateur

puppet company, "Zlatni Dani," which had once been active in Zagreb. In

addition, the crew was assisted by a young, new wave driver who seemed to fit in

everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Finally there was a string of porters who manned the office entrance located off Trg Tomislava. 176

While the cleaning and stage crew each had specific jobs which fully

incorporated them into the daily operations of the theater, they were socially once

removed from the theater center.

They also had less say in the decision-making process which, by rights, all

members of the theater staff could be a part of. Two committees are

instrumental in regulating theater policy in particular and in providing checks

against the Direktor in general. The Umjetnicvo Vijece, the Arts Council, is

composed of five members whose primary goal is to participate in the selection of

next year’s repertory. As the old season winds down in June the members read

all the scripts submitted to the theater; on July 15, after having perused twenty to

thirty texts, they narrow the choice down to five or six depending on the size of

the projects and the budget and these are approved by the entire staff. In 1988-

1989, the Arts Council consisted of the following members: two seasoned performers; Davor Mladinov (the veteran rezija); one designer; and Mario (the

Propaganda chief). Despite the democratic look of this committee, most of the puppeteers questioned the fundamental value of the Arts Council as it operated:

Arts Council makes decision about six or seven plays and each actor has chance to vote yes or no. But this is not a choice because we have no idea of alternatives... on what was or was not under council’s consideration (Zagreb professional puppeteer).

Thus, if a script passes at the council, it is likely to be approved by the performers at large. Conversely, if one is vetoed by the five member Arts Council, there is little chance it will make the stage. The puppeteers conclude that their vote is perfunctory rather than valid and, that, moreover the future course of the theater is in the hands of a select group.

A second committee, the Rules Council, oversees the managerial parts of the 177

theater. It handles questions ranging from daily operations and staffing

procedures to salary matters and individual grievances. A larger, more diverse

group than the Arts Council, this committee is organized to meet the needs and

concerns of all theater employees. It serves as a go-between for the staff and the

Direktor. In 1987-1988 it included a presiding officer, two other performers, two

techrrical members (or crew), one representative from the administration, and

three external members (a faculty representative from the Drama Academy, one

from the Zagreb pre-school council, and one from the municipal Union of Social

Clubs).

The meetings were off-limits to outsiders and its President, one of the

seasoned puppeteers, dodged most inquiries. In 1987 it was clear that the council

was involved in sensitive, potentially explosive negotiations that centered on

salaries and the allocation of theater funds for festival expenses. One member,

perhaps distracted by the level of infighting, commented that the problem lay not with the actors but with the system itself. He argued that the entire operating

structure under social democracy was dependent on too many "shouting" voices

and that too many opinions fostered "commotion rather than progress." While

some criticized leadership at the top as financially irresponsible, others refused to

dwell on controversy commenting, "I can’t discuss politics." Every so often, however, one performer would throw up his hands and ask, rhetorically, "Do you now see how our social democracy works?"

Covié frequently referred to the staff as her "children." They were a complex group of individuals, artists who participated in theater that was once on the fringe and now considered old-fashioned. Travel and festival participation 178 heightened the growing awareness that the ZKL had missed the experimental stage which was creating dynamic puppetry in France, Poland, Czechoslovakia,

Ljubljana, and even once provincial towns like Mostar. One puppeteer complained that until he appeared in a puppet play at the Gavella, Zagreb’s satiric theater, mainstream actors had never paid him attention: "Now I am a colleague," he confided gleefully. Later he said that the official govermnent has a soft spot for puppetry: "They love us like a mother loves a crazy child."

Other performers were threatened by Covié’s fairly rapid changes:

Now we have in theater crisis... crisis. Look, for example, lot of work done in light and in technology: they (technical or artistic directors) come from different milieu, architecture and maybe they have gift but they don’t know theater. Before maybe they didn’t know all but they wanted to improve. Now here everyone is very proud, too proud, and they don’t know how to ask to be professional (ZKL fifteen-year veteran puppeteer).

Other veterans were dissatisfied with the poor technical training of the younger puppeteers and by the lack of the kind of firm artistic direction they had once enjoyed under Radovan, Gavella, and Stupica, all of whom had worked extensively in dramatic theater as well as puppet theater. Comparisons between the golden years and today are frequent:

Now we don’t have a leader, a man who will be a leader for us, who will explain, inspire and be teacher... a personality to inspire... (ZKL twenty-year veteran).

Actors were quite different., the theater was different itself: they behaved more like professionals then... they had professional workshops, gymnastics, dance and music training every day then (ZKL thirty-year veteran).

In their turn, younger actors were dissatisfied that the veterans "can’t understand" improvisation and stylistic experimentation. While impressed with the veterans’ outstanding techniques, younger actors considered the others to be resting on laurels and simply not putting in the kind of energy necessary for 179 vibrant theater:

I have enough strength to keep that rhythm but some of the older actors don’t have that strength. They don’t have the strength to keep that kind of repertory to do (modern theater)... Some are good, Krsto and Nevenka are best... but someone once told (others) they are great actors and puff, puff, inflate themselves and they only lose their perspective (ten-year puppeteer veteran).

Another commented:

This is problem: some people are thinking about puppetry and some people are thiriking about nothing and that’s best problem... But I think about puppetry and my work in it: I have some vision, something, and if there is some one with complete vision we fight which is right and which is not... (ten- year ZKL veteran).

On the whole, however, all unanimously expressed concern that the ZKL’s artistic standards must be maintained. They were in agreement with one colleague who explained that a good puppeteer is recognized by: "... his voice... the way he uses his voice. Also how he can move, manipulate puppets and his marmer of transferring his "interior" onto the puppet..." (twelve-year veteran puppeteer).

Another reiterated these standards by questioning how the staff cuts would affect maintenance of professional standards:

Actors is a problem... you have to have a lot of different voices: you can’t have many voices alike. Here the range should be from bass to first soprano but we don’t work enough and on singing, no time and less talent now... (nine- year ZKL veteran puppeteer).

Mounting concerns with inflation exacerbated the issues of artistic standards and achievement which are the mainstay of professional theater discussions.

Faced with escalating costs, veterans and younger puppeteers were increasingly threatened:

There are problems of financial nature... It is very stressful work. And puppeteers do not receive special health or retirement benefits as do their 180

counterparts in East European countries. This is true despite the fact that Yugoslav puppetry has a forty-year old tradition (thirty-year ZKL veteran).

Another veteran added: "Second problem is money... not enough here to make

(gifted) artists and writers come..." (ten-year veteran).

By the close of the 1987 season, the prospects of a reduced budget for the next year and already visibly shrinking funds were affecting the performers’ morale. One incident turned particularly fractious and served as a forewarning of the following season’s political crisis. At a rehearsal for a production the ZKL had been invited to perform in celebration of Berlin’s anniversary, the company burst out in anger at the Direktor. Despite her explanation that the initial funds provided for the trip by the city were already inadequate and that the costs in

Berlin, due to the dinar devaluation, far exceeded that budget, one segment of the staff was outraged that they were to travel by chartered coach rather than by plane and that they would have to lodge with Yugoslav guestworkers rather than in a hotel. They protested adamantly: "We are artists, not workers." 181

The Budget

While the staff’s concerns about the economy were well-founded, they had in

fact benefitted under Covic’s leadership. Because of her efforts, ZKL salaries

rose from 1985 to 1988. She restructured the salary scale to align it with staff

function and expertise. In 1985, each member of the ZKL received roughly the

equivalent of $250.00 a month; by 1988 the average salary was closer to $480.00 a

month. Veterans were now rewarded for their experience and prestige, receiving

as much as $600.00 a month, while the cleaning/stage crews received smaller

increases than the performers, bringing their monthly salaries to around $300.00.

Covié’s reshuffling was less "democratic" than the former one-salary-fit-all system, yet it struck the professionals as more fair; first, it provided them with a salary

equivalent to that of a teacher; second, it made concessions to veterans who had

no retirement plan; and third, it financially recognized their professional status.

In exchange for the nearly twenty monthly performances, which now total

over five hundred a year (or nearly double what they were in the early 1980s) the

ZKL receives about $500,000 from the city government. (In 1986 it was granted

10,000,000,000 old dinars and, in 1987, in order to keep up with inflation, it was allocated 25,000,000,000 old dinars although the actual amount remained virtually the same.) The rate of inflation was already crippling production for the 1988-

1989 year. "Each year we have less money. Every year we have to do four programs but today we have only money to do two" (Cornelia Covié).

Since the ZKL is almost entirely dependent on government funds, the situation threatened all aspects of the theater, from salaries to operations to hiring outside talent, and attending foreign festivals. Only a fraction of its income is 182 derived from ticket sales. Tickets cost 500 dinars in 1988 (about $0.80) for both adults and children, and one source at the theater estimated that total sales generated about $10,000 annually. Schools were given a reduced rate amounting to less than $0.60 per child for most productions in the theater and the "little forms," while less expensive to mount, cost each school about $50.00 per performance.

One additional source of revenue is provided by the TV studios who tape performances for broadcast on weekday afternoons (when children return home for their mid-day meal). However, one source explained that after paying for the studio, technicians, the film or tape, and the station itself for space, there was not much profit in the venture. More was gained in terms of publicity and public service than in actual dinars. Television was advantageous for certain performers who were able to moonlight either in commercials or as extras for foreign made- for-television movies. The only other special source for funding is a grant from the Zagreb Council of Education for $500.00 to encourage taking of puppet plays to schools unable to transport children to the theater.

According to my sources at the ZKL, puppet and "live" theaters operate under the same system:

The organization is the same, you know... it’s not different. We have obligation from the town, the society who gives us money... that’s the same principle in all theater and only way of performing is different. Listen, we get money from government: to earn our money we must make all our performances (ZKL Manager).

By the summer of 1987, there was dismay about the fact that it was less costly to keep the staff on salary and forgo performances (or reduce them considerably).

While the staff avoided the issue directly, most performers recognized that the 183

theater, as it was structured, was not operating efficiently or responsibly as an

institution. Finally, the managers and staff were worried about the theater’s

future status. It was clear that they would have a reduced budget due to central

policy decisions resulting from the factories’ economic straits. The ZKL would

have to compete against other, better known, institutions. How would the city

regard its "crazy child" which, instituted to entertain and educate the community

children, was trying to enter the international ranks of experimental theater?

A Day at the ZKL

Daily performances are scheduled for ten a.m., Tuesday through Friday, with special weekend shows offered as the schedule permits. The cleaning and stage crews arrive sometime after seven a.m. and congregate in the small foyer adjacent to the porter’s desk. It is at the far end of the theater stage and main entrance, and the crew prefers to socialize here throughout the day rather than at the more central spot (the concession bar) frequented by the players. The weekly schedule and daily notices are posted on a bulletin board in this foyer, and other members enter and check for special bulletins through this entrance from the courtyard off

Trg Tomislava.

By eight a.m., the performers begin arriving and proceed either directly to their dressing rooms, two large chambers with a few mirrors and closets, one for women, one for men, or, most usually after depositing their belongings, they head directly to the main foyer at the other end of the stage. If there is no morning show, or if only "little forms" run that day, rehearsals begin by eleven a.m. and run through two p.m. The performers then break for several hours. Mothers fetch their children from school and begin their midday, main meal, while fathers either 184 do errands or head to a local bar before starting home for dinner. Rehearsals resume at five p.m. and, similarly, if afternoon shows are scheduled in addition to one or two morning shows (at ten a.m. and noon), these are performed at five p.m.

Whenever the performers are not on stage, including intermission, they make a bee-line for the concession bar. Besides selling chips and soft drinks for children, the bar serves hot coffee and liquor. While seating placement is not fixed, there are certain spots that some performers fi-equent. For example, men prefer to stand and drink at the bar and women usually congregate at nearby lounge sofas. Thus, while there is some interaction between these two clusters, the social grouping remains fairly fixed. Performers rarely hang out in the dressing rooms, opting instead to socialize at the porter’s desk with the crew,

(generally the older puppeteers congregate here). There is also room in the main lobby for private talks or informal rehearsals, but by and large intimate, out of the way tete-a-tetes are avoided in this theater.

One or two local bars were popular for intimate conversation or simply as a place of escape. An informal protocol governed their use as well. The cleaning women did not seem to frequent them, but the porters and stage crew, trekked out continuously, starting at seven a.m. Male performers went to a cellar tavern next door, standing at the bar while women usually chose to sit at one of the tables to the side or to gather at a nearby coffee bar. The choice, then, of location and atmosphere is not random and socializing is patterned.

Conclusion

In "Social Drama and Ritual Metaphor" (1974) Turner examined how certain 185

individual conflicts magnify deeper cultural crises. Far from isolated, such "social

dramas" bring basic unresolved issues to the forefront and manifest them in

immediate, tangible, and very human terms. These conflicts essentially

de-institutionalize complex cultural issues. In doing so, they require a more

personal resolution. Furthermore, these incidents become clearer when analyzed

in full context; in turn, they clarify conditions of social change.

The ZKL’s internal politics boded such social drama in 1988. Covié’s

ambition matched her energy and commitment. With little background in drama,

she immersed herself in puppetry and, theater and with an outsider’s clarify, she

determined that the ZKL had passed its prime: "And I think they had success

twenty years ago but they were only biggest theater not perhaps the best."

Moreover, she perceived that structural and artistic change must go hand in hand

for progress to be lasting.

Covié’s changes covered numerous dimensions within the puppet theater.

Their consequences were mixed as well. Puppeteers thrived when they came out

of hiding from behind the paravan; similarly they enjoyed the exposure and chance for exchange festival attendance gave them. She also encouraged them to open up artistically, to orient themselves to a wider audience, and to accept the rut she found them in less passively. She criticized the cushy set-up of the theater, especially the staff’s inefficiency and the fixed salary practice which paid performers regardless of what, how often, or how well they performed. She reasoned:

Look, if you are in socialism and one of thirty-five factories who work all the time and see actor working only part time, you think: Svhy should actor get as much as factory worker works everyday?’ And he’s right... Best (scenario) when we have best professional actors working and paid just for what they 186

work.

At the same time, Covic was adamant that they "be paid for just what they do and

nothing less."

Not only did she try to treat the performers as professionals, she wanted

them to treat themselves and their work accordingly. She considered taking risks

part of this:

Some people can’t think and some people only think they think. And some people only think: and that’s problem...there is no selection. And it’s so much a problem here. You have some people who work only and some who want to leam. You can see what’s wrong with performance like "Slavarica"... the director did not make it on high level but on three levels down. We are not satisfied because we always have same shows with same way of working. But I try to give artist, directors chance again.

Her own risk-taking involved making a commitment to enter festivals and to

secure a position for adult puppetry in the theater:

But just something is not enough: concept must change too. You must bring to theater adults. Look, grown people can not always play a rabbit or bear in this infantile way. And second, they must work outside theater for outside stimulation. This kind of working, in ensemble, this kind of show was alright for before but not now.

Furthermore, it also included trying to shed the ZKL’s "conservative" image and

entering the contemporary artistic arena. A number of veterans objected: "The

older ones were just afraid to try anything new. They felt that the high day of

Zagreb twenty years ago and that anything else was not so good quality" (Covié).

Among the changes this led to was a re-apportionment of the rezija position.

With Mladinov given part-time status, Covié sought to give other, younger

directors a chance to work in the puppet theater. Every one at the ZKL was wild

to work with noted artist/filmmaker/puppet designer Zlatko Bourek, and pleased with the success of his "Od Zlata Jabuka," Covic worked hard to get still other 187 outside talent:

When I first got Zlatko here, a woman who was once director, here said, ‘Oh, you are so nice I always wanted to get him here’ and I say, ‘It’s not because I am so nice.’ I am nice when I get designer my age to come who is genius but not so famous as Bourek. I must get someone my generation.

Finally, Covié tried to integrate those changes into the system.

Inexperienced in running such an institution, she found she first had to deal with the way the former management had worked. During her first year, the Zagreb

Cultural Council cut the ZKL budget by 30% due to uneasy signs of inflation.

The reduction forced her to reappraise the entire funding process:

But it was not a bad idea because it meant we had to cut back... it was really right to cut back because old budget was not so good. In past ZKL would say there were fifty-three employees but there were really forty. They, stupid people, took money for extra workers and not used for something else but to pay bills they had no money for, had not budgeted enough money for in first place. Do you understand?... Electricity, never had enough for electricity; so it never worked well at all.

As to the current situation, she explained:

In the last two years we make 80% raise for salaries, but that’s not enough because they were so poor for so long. Look, we have problem because all government wants to Mow is percent we have money from last year. ‘Oh,’ they say ‘how much more is your percentage or budget now from last year? Oh, 100% too much!’ But that doesn’t show cost of electricity is up 300% from last year. Berislav makes joke when he’s asked about his salaiy, he says, ‘Oh, it’s up 100%’ It’s not good system of working because it does not see inflation in any good way.

Betweem 1985 and 1989, the economy worsened as inflation soared. Even readjusted budgets could not catch up with four digit inflation. The mood inside the theater matched that on the streets. While, two or three years ago, puppeteers had been challenged by the cultural thaw spreading in the wake of

Tito’s death (Djordevié, 1985) and had been thus ripe for Covié’s changes the cold reality of the economic crisis sharply curbed their altruism. 188

Dissatisfied with the inadequate salary increases, the puppeteers grew

increasingly irate about poor retirement and health benefits. Secondly, one group

criticized the ZKL’s new festival participation as "elitist": another group, blaming

Covié personally for the lack of money, called "foul play." Suddenly financial

concerns melted into their unresolved ambiguity over the structural and artistic

changes Covié had introduced. Veterans felt unsure of themselves in front of an

audience, and they worried that new talent would make more creative or

interesting but professionally compromised theater. Younger performers thirsted

for more, faster changes. On all sides, frustration, resentment, and insecurity

mounted and Covié became the common target.

Outside the theater, the system was also being challenged. Tito’s death had

left a political vacuum (Pipa 1989); ethnic conflict was escalating. The Serbian

leader, Slobodan Milosevié, was inciting Serbian nationalism and aggravating

Slovenes and Croats in so doing; and unemployment was topping 15% in Croatia

and 50% in Kosovo, according to one Croatian informant. He added that he

foresaw three possible scenarios for 1989-1990: that the country would be taken

over by a benign dictatorship that would "clean up the system," that there would be a continuation or political confusion and no strong center, or that civil war would break out, creating a Balkan Lebanon.

In early 1988, the situation in the theater imploded. Covié was called before

a special council on charges of mismanagement and, possibly, embezzlement.

Several months later she explained:

I said to government; ‘We have no money.’ And everything is in crisis and government has no money for anything not just culture and people here say, ‘You spend too much. You are thief.’ Investigators spent three months to find, of course, nothing. They then went to union syndicate, a court to save 189

‘self-management’ even though investigator told them it was all right.

While exonerated from formal charges, Covié’s contract was not renewed.

The new Direktor who replaced her had managed the new "Mladov (Youth)

Centar" opened in 1987 and, while skilled in organizational structure he had little experience in theater. In a rare sign of solidarity, performers vetoed his plans to scrap the new version of "Snow White" that Covié had commissioned for the

ZKL’s fortieth anniversary. The move encouraged them to be more assertive:

We acted as a group. Fourteen of us said we will go on strike if you don’t put it on. So he changed his opinion in one day. Now every Monday we go to his office and tell what we want. And today we told him we want five names to replace old ones on Umjetnicko Vijece because they do not represent us (ZKL puppeteer).

Another commented later:

He is like all politicians and will promise anything... He is not interested in theater but in his career. Look, he goes to bed at nine o’clock and can never see us work. He always goes to Hotel Palace to have meetings and so now we go to new place across the street for our meetings and we call it "Alternative Palace" but still we go to Diniri and Tomislov to drink... (Young ZKL puppeteer).

In the late fall of 1988, none of my sources at the theater could predict the effects that political changes and economic crisis would exert over puppet design and over the direction of the theater. While most were unwilling to cease building on the artistic innovations Covié now represented, they were also pragmatic, insisting that too many groundless changes might mean losing funds and "losing our public." For Covié the "social drama" was a hard lesson:

Now 1 understand what I didn’t know before, that what they want is that I be politician not artist... I said every morning: I must work.’ When government gave me theater I think, ‘What could be better?’ Then I think, ‘If I only I had private theater.’ But as we say in Yugoslavia: ‘It’s easy to be general after the battle.’ 190

Her companion added: "But it’s changing in Yugoslavia for politicians now. We don’t want the same but it’s only changing on the little level, little by little." CHAPTER Vn

FORM AND DESIGN IN SLOVENE AND

CROATIAN PUPPETRY TODAY

Introduction

By the mid 1980s, Zagreb puppet theater was highly stylized and formulaic.

For twenty years its designers sought to define their drama as modem and as

European, and their efforts to pare puppetry down to a purer form won them

considerable acclaim at home and abroad. It was during this time that the ZKL

directors altered the aesthetic orientation of their puppetry creating significant

shifts in narrative stmcture, characterization, thematic expression, and formal

visual design. At the same time the puppeteers were, setting a new artistic course,

they constantly maneuvered their performances between this emerging style and

the traditional form they had developed in the 1950s as a blend of popular, folk,

and socialist realist conventions. Thus, new approaches to puppetry were

simultaneously supported and challenged.

Around 1985, however, it became clear that De2ilic’s abstract style had itself become conventional and was curbing further experimentation with form, symbol,

and theme. While the ZKL had refined a modem visual style it had become too

confined and maintaining it excluded the kind of innovations occurring in

Ljubljana or elsewhere in Europe. In Ljubljana the small scale plays of the

Majaron brothers at the Theater Jo2e Pengov had been successfully

191 192

transferred to the city puppet theater; in Poland, Czechoslovakia, and France,

puppeteers were engaged in shadow, bunraku. and mixed media puppet theater.

By comparison, the ZKL was continuing to create the same geometric rod puppets

it had used for the past two decades, although it had proceeded to make technical

advances all along.

This chapter analyzes first the dominant trends in Slovene and Croat puppet

structure and theme and how they have been deliberately implemented over the

past twenty years, and then assesses these trends in their relations to broader

cultural issues and attitudes. Focusing directly on the puppet plays produced by

the ZagrebaCko KazaliSte Lutaka, the study then places them in the context of

contemporary amateur puppetry and compares them with the Slovene professional theater. While specific changes in format or technique are of interest in themselves, they are also indicative of deeper changes in orientation on the part of the puppeteers to their art, their audiences, and to the culture which fostered them. Thus, when tracing variation in characterization, questions about contemporary values regarding man’s relationship to nature, the maintenance of social order, and the perception of individual expression or will are considered.

Taken cumulatively, these modifications express an artistic response to changing social and political attitudes. Puppetry, perhaps like other socialist cultural forms, found itself increasingly caught between the political ideals which organized and supported it and the movement for greater individual expression and self-government. Far from stymieing puppetry, these forces pushed it toward 193

greater development, although sometimes with mixed aesthetic results. On the

whole contemporary puppetry is far more involved in addressing its audiences

directly, of engaging them in dialogue, and in allowing them to participate in the

ritual of performance. Moreover, at the same time puppetry is more deeply

penetrating - reaching farther into the psyche of its audiences, it is reaching a

wider circulation, both among children and adults within the community, and

among audiences throughout the republic and the Continent. The analysis is

based on live and taped productions I observed during field research between

1986 and 1988.

Tvpology of Puppet Plays

Between 1986 and 1988, 1 observed over sixty individual puppet plays, two-thirds of which were productions of ZagrebaCko KazaliSte Lutaka. The ZKL plays were performed mostly within the theater itself, but I also saw performances in schools, libraries, and community festivals. Throughout the course of my field work, I was able to observe particular plays a number of times and in a variety of locations. Since I am most familiar with both the standard repertory and current productions of the ZKL, they form the primary source of my analysis. Clearly, though, my understanding of them was strengthened by my visits to neighboring amateur groups in Zagreb and by my research in both Slovene amateur and professional theaters.

These sixty plays fall into four major categories: moral fables, international fairy tales, folk adventures, and experimental tales, primarily but not exclusively satires. An individual play may well fall into one or more categories: "Od Zlata 194

Jabuka" ("The Golden Apple") is both an international fairy tale and a piece of

adult satire, for example. Placement is based on the criterion of what element or

property dominates and provides the most lasting impact on its audience.

"Loptica Hoptica" certainly fits the genre of tales of adventure and resembles the

picaresque novel in its segmentized narrative structure, yet its overriding moral

about family and home provides its central rationale and emotional imprint, planting it squarely in the category of moral fable. It is not my intent to simplify

either the meaning or texture of these puppet plays by positioning them in one

category instead of another. Rather, I hope to clarify structure and through it, best approach character, theme, symbol, and design.

Moral fables are, by far, the most frequently produced type of puppet play, accounting for approximately one-third of all of the plays I observed. Tales of adventure based on folk story or traditional legend comprised the second most performed category (seventeen out of sixty plays), while fairy tales accounted for

20% of them (twelve out of sixty) and experimental puppetry followed at about

15% (less than ten out of sixty). Experimental puppet plays may have, in earlier productions, belonged to another category, but they were so altered in structure or design that strict classification serves little purpose. For these plays, a rich texture rather than the conventions of plot, character, and moral is the single most developed property.

Moral Fables

Puppetry presented in the form of fable is designed to project a clear ethical message. Principally created for very young children, these plays feature an animal or inanimate object brought to life, and they center around either a 195 dilemma or action which requires moral judgement and commitment on the part of the young protagonist. Such plays serve as a primer for pre-schoolers and highlight exemplary behavior. While they point to values esteemed by society, virtues such as kindness, cheerfulness, and obedience, they portray children as essentially good, just occasionally lax or forgetful. In their Roussean interpretation of the child's state of grace, they reflect basic cultural attitudes toward children. Yugoslav children are treasured within the family and community, and youth as a group has been almost idealized, even perhaps catered to with unprecedented educational, athletic, and cultural opportunities under socialism. Furthermore, there is the clear indication that socialist Yugoslavia pinned its expectations on the younger generation and, therefore, that the formal message of these puppet plays is part of the broader grooming process of its future citizens.

The specific message of each fable play is straightforward and without pretense. It is designed to start three and four-year olds reflecting about inunediate relationships among family or friends and to initiate thought about wider social issues. While animals usually represent children and adults are frequently portrayed as humans, the animal/child metaphor is not masked.

Indeed the charm of these plays lies in their simple directness: these are puppet plays of gentle art but little artifice.

Currently performed as classics for young audiences, moral fables have been a fixture of state theaters from the outset. There is no ambiguity in these plays from the 1950s which present, if not a perfect world, then an idealized resolution.

While situations vary and are richly embroidered in detail and by design, the core 196

structure is standard: a child/animal is confronted by a sudden problem

stemming from a mistake or infraction she has made either through carelessness

or lack of awareness. Through the complications of the play, she learns what

society requires and shows the audience how to meet its expectations and

standards.

Most of the puppet fable plays center around a standard set of themes. At

the core of each play is the overriding bond between parent and child, and it is

the absolute force which directs the final resolution of the play and proves stable, unalterable during the course of narrative complications. Moreover, it becomes strengthened when, at the conclusion, the child reciprocates his parent’s love through his eagerness to return home and be good. Often, forces of magic aid in the prodigal’s return, although it is clear that enchantment is predicated on self- enlightenment.

The ZKL’s production of "Loptica Hoptica" ("Striped Little Bouncing Ball") weaves peasant custom into this prescribed structure. As the play conunences, an elderly peasant couple are exchanging gifts and delighting in the simple joys of their modest life. Yet they long for a child and when one, in the form of ball, appears they shower her with love and affection. Complications arise when the child/ball accidentally breaks her mother’s prized jar and, rather than face her parents, she allows herself to be carried off by a fearful zmai or dragon in the form of a kite. Although the dragon/kite does not prove as terrible as he first appeared (he wanted to take the ball home for his children’s play), the child/ball is overcome with homesickness and her concern for her parents takes precedence over personal fear. As the old couple begin their journey to find her, the 197 child/ball grows, acquiring emotional depth and wisdom. Somewhat ironically she learns about family relations when she observes the zmai at play with his three children. However, it is magic which reunites the child/ball with her parents, just as it was magic, representing the old couple’s love for each other, that provided them with their child initially. This time, however, the magic must be provided by the children of the audience: they are instructed to "Blow, blow" and in so doing, blow Papa Zmai and his children away, freeing the child/ball.

Magic is an even more fanciful element in "Zvesdica Pospanka" ("Sleepy

Star") when it becomes apparent that the child/star is herself enchanted. In this tale, presented on two spheres, the heavenly world and the earthly one, the littlest star of the universe is taken to task by Grandfather Moon because she is perpetually tardy for evening roll call. One evening, after numerous warnings, the moon chastises her and sends her to earth as a mortal. At first delighted by the earthly treasures she encounters (when she tastes ice cream or visits the circus), she gradually perceives the tawdry, empty side of human existence. Longing for her sisters, she rents a telescope to gaze at the sky; unbeknownst to her, a robber observed her paying with a gold strand plucked from her fair head. Posing as a magician who can help her return home, he takes her instead to his hideout, hoping to extract more gold from her when she sleeps. Yet, instead of complying, the once passive star sets to work cleaning house and, when she discovers that he is more afraid of the dark than she, she realizes that he is a child at heart. She encourages him to write a letter to his mother, and as he begins, the loud "tick, tick" of his heart, dormant for so many years, is heard. The robber rushes off to find his mother and the star/child returns home. Reunited with her sisters, she 198

comes promptly forward for the evening count and exudes newfound self-

confidence and maturity.

Both "Loptica Hoptica" and "Zvesdica Pospanka" guide their audiences

towards the expectation that with self-enlightenment comes the need for

individual contribution. These plays, while focusing on the development of each

child, also place that child directly in a social context and suggest how each

individual can serve her family or companions. By the play’s end, the protagonists

have become young good-will ambassadors, helping to right a slightly askew world.

In "Loptica Hoptica" the child/ball aids those even more stranded than she: she

makes wings for a grounded bird, she provides the scarecrow with a bucket to use

for a hat, she instructs the soldier how to fire his cannon, and she hands the

traffic officer an umbrella to protect him from the sun and rain. With her

assistance, life begins to function more smoothly, the traffic flows and the cannon

gives its salute.

There is similar, symbolic association between individual reconciliation with

family and restoration of social order in "Zvesdica Pospanka." The star/child

provides even more of a moral message than her counterpart in "Loptica Hoptica"

as she not only sets things back in motion, she sets others back on the right

emotional track. Instead of succumbing to self-pity, she summons up her courage

and energy and transforms the greedy robber into a repentant soul. Whereas the

dramatic climax of "Loptica Hoptica" occurs when the children of the audience blow with all their might to liberate the child/ball, it comes as the little star

dictates "M-O-T-H-E-R" to her captor and his heart starts to respond loudly.

Thus these plays, and others like them, point clearly to a set of basic cultural 199 values which advocate personal virtues, especially kindness and consideration,

coupled with social behavior, responsibility, and social action or work. What is

important here is that in each case the child has earned her place and proves worthy of the love or home she returns to.

Through image or through song, the finale of these puppet plays presents a lasting symbol of the stabilizing love of family and of the emotional growth of the child. The ball/child sitting happily in her old seat at the bare table between her stooped parents sings out:

Here will I live happily. We will work. Everyday we will sing and dance. I am a little jumping ball. I understand everything and I am afraid of nobody.

Grandmother concludes the play with a simple benediction: "Although you pass the whole world, it is best here at home." In "Sleepy Star," once whisked back to the sky by a comet, the star/child hugs her sister and joins them in a parting song:

Twinkle silver stars in the night Bring the children dreams and let them close their eyes. Twinkle on brighter, little star. Let the sailors find a port and the coast Twinkle little stars in the summer and winter Let the poets find the proper rhyme and the song be joyful and sweet. Twinkle little stars so brightly.

Finally, in these plays theme, movement, and design are mirrored by the all encompassing warmth and gentleness of the productions. While the Zagreb plays delight in capturing a sense of the hurly burly of life or create villains that are truly terrible (at least at first), both the ZKL and Slovene puppet moral plays of this era are infused with a comforting, calm tone. It helps assure young children 200 and it also manifests a deeper cultural value on providing children with an even, moderate climate in which to grow.

Above all, these are performances which nurture and appeal to the good within each child. While there is an unmistakably old-fashioned courtesy to them, exemplified by the formal greeting of the parents of "Loptica Hoptica" ("Dobra veCe, dobra veCe, dobra veCe" or "Good evening, good evening, good evening."), there is also a mild humor and tolerance which renders them still fresh after almost thirty years of performance.

So far, the focus here has been on the classic model of moral fable produced by the puppet theaters of Zagreb and Ljubljana. At the same time that these plays are the staples of the repertory system, they have spawned a considerable number of contemporary counterparts. Do the same or similar sets of values regarding family, home, social responsibility and individual respect hold for puppetry created for young audiences today? Do these new versions express similar emotions, the warmth and mild humor, which permeated the classic plays, or has the pace and quality of contemporary life altered tone and atmosphere?

My evaluation of the young crop of moral fables produced by the professional theaters today reveals two distinct sets of new puppet fables and several very different dimensions. First, there are the plays which reproduce the narrative structure and scope of the classic model, and, secondly, there are even more recent productions which have discarded that formal structure, reduced the scope of the performance, yet which have maintained the clarity of plays like "Loptica

Hoptica." In some cases, moreover, these plays have, through the intrinsic simplicity of form and design, intensified the meaning and immediacy of the 201 morals.

I will focus on three of the first set, plays which conform to the standard form and action of the classic plays. Each of them is representative of the type and each also offers a distinctive performance feature. ’Tigrié," for example, stands out because of its distinguished visual design, "Univerijada" because of its topical subject, and "Sapramigka," by virtue of its unprecedented popularity. Two of them deal with contemporary issues as well as universal morals and are deliberately set within city limits, thereby distancing themselves from the rural or slightly unreal settings of the classic fables.

'Tigrié," alone is centered deep within an imaginary world bearing little resemblance to everyday urban life. It is an ordered world dominated by well-defined standards and natural laws. In the midst of this genteel but disciplined society is Tigric, a young tiger whose unconquered fear puts him in continual danger and eventually puts him before the board of governors. This venerable trio of tigers strips him of his markings, taking away his clan’s prized stripes. Gradually the tiger/child gathers his courage and, when the need arises, proves he is as brave as the others. He is permitted to rejoin his friends and, awarded his stripes, takes his rightful place back in society. Clearly conforming to the basic narrative structure of "Zvesdica Pospanka," this puppet play has been consciously streamlined so that any embellishing details have been omitted.

These were the details which enriched the earlier fables.

The artistic designer of "Tigric" chose to provide visual depth through color and contour rather than through detail or prop. The rod puppets are designed into symmetrical, geometric shapes: the heads of the tigers consist of perfect 202

circles painted in vivid stripes of orange, black, and dark purple; the giraffes are

depicted by large triangles atop slender poles. Here design itself plays a critical

role when, chastised by his elders, the little tiger’s stripes are taken away. The

simplicity of the design and its harmony with the action of 'Tigric" are

representative of the ZKL’s aesthetic goals of the period. Yet the intellectualization of theme and form also created a play of narrow range. There is only the slightest characterization in the performance and an audiences’ identification with the small tiger is mainly a sentimental rather than a lasting one. Thus, though visually stimulating, this fable lacks the emotional perspective to keep its audiences on the edge of their seats and cheering madly as is the case in classic fable puppet plays.

In the successful Slovene play about a little mouse who must go to the dentist there is a quantity of both sentiment and empathy. Part of the appeal for young audiences today is that unlike her classic counterparts, SapramiSka is not a model heroine. She is capable of crude language, unkind thoughts, and rather spoiled behavior. SapramiSka decides with her heart rather than her head and is characteristically self-absorbed ("How sad the world is, how sad I am, something always happens when you’re happy about something. Bad luck always comes to you") and quite often melodramatic ("Ohh! I’ll just die of fright, oh yes! I’m sure

I’ll die! There’s just no chance I’ll go. I’m sooo afraid!"). SapramiSka’s attitude and outbursts are a far cry from the only slightly wayward heroines of the classic puppet fables. Unlike her predecessors, SapramiSka never earns the kindness of the enchanted Mouse Ghost whose magic settles the dentist problem and whose bounty cheers her no end. This "feel good" ending lacks any reflection but 203 satisfies the sweet tooth of twelve-year olds.

Finally, SapramiSka has been created with a greeting card kind of cuteness that only seems to prove more attractive to the young girls of Ljubljana. The play is the LGL’s runaway hit and there has been a continual demand for additional performances. By the fall of 1988, "SapramiSka" had played two hundred thirty- three times in just over a year. (Theater staff even complain that parents can not restrain their children from rushing into the theater before the doors open.) The

LGL has lost no time in capitalizing on the play’s success and sells SapramiSka buttons, posters, banners, and cassette tapes by the dozens before and after each show.

Pleased with "SapramiSka’s" reception from the community, the puppeteers are nonetheless surprised by its popularity. While the moral lessons of the play are clear, I think their value is overshadowed by SapramiSka’s strong appeal: she is unpredictable, she is not a model child, and she is a perpetual contradiction, a very human mixture of fear/bravery, of matter-of-factness/indecision, of conceit/kindness. All sorts of emotions simply tumble out of her and ring true.

Thus, it may be this mixed marriage between old-fashioned virtues running through the play which tell children what they know they ought to know, (that is, what society tells them they ought to be) and this thoroughly contemporary heroine who shows them how they want, in part, to behave that the audiences respond to.

There is a colorful cast of contemporary characters in the ZKL’s final play of

1987, "Univerijada." Frequently, however, the audiences’s concentration is strained by following the six animals who serve as the cumulative protagonist. 204

Commissioned by the theater to commemorate the hosting of the 1987 University

Games, the play attempts to explain to the children of Zagreb first, what the

commotion and construction are all about, and, second the concepts of

competition, sportsmanship, and international friendship. An underlying theme of

the play, the idea of ethnic and racial diversity, fostered the multiple protagonists

and, thus, the complications both within the action of the play and for its audience

are part of the basic fi*amework.

In "Univerijada," the universe is represented by Maksimirski Park, the

extensive public gardens and bridle trails which lie outside the city’s inner limits,

adjacent to the city’s major sports facility. In honor of the University Games

across the way, the animals of the park agree to host their own competition. Yet

they cannot agree on what events to offer or even how to hold them, and their

constant infighting, which provides the play’s comiè relief, nearly stops the

proceedings altogether. Only when there is outside danger personified by the

human puppet characters, a hunter and the gamekeeper, do the animals

coordinate to work together against their common enemy.

Although the games are held eventually, the bickering and skirmishes become more tiresome than diverting. In addition, the lack of one or two identifiable protagonists to latch one’s emotions onto also rendered the play flat.

Consequently while the underlying meaning and purpose of the play are timely and well-intended, the play’s lack of depth weakens their potential.

In some way, then, each of these three modern fables falls short of the dimension, complexity, and impact of the classic models and in their shortcomings they are joined by a number of similar fables, such as "Kosoviri," "Sion U Redu," 205

and "The Tin Soldier..." These plays were, like their predecessors, created as big,

full blown productions requiring many puppets and either elaborate sets or

sophisticated design. The discrepancy in depth and effectiveness is not arbitrary.

I think it suggests that while puppeteers felt the need to create plays with strong

moral messages or perhaps felt the obligation to produce them, they could not

successfully duplicate the thirty year old model which grew out of a set of specific

social criteria and a certain cultural era.

That the question was one of approach rather than one of an outmoded genre becomes clear when the newer, more innovative puppet fables that emerged during the mid 1980s are compared with them. Originating in the small, modest plays produced first in the amateur puppet companies of Slovenia and then adopted by the Ljubljana State Theater, these plays influenced the restructuring of fables in Zagreb also. By 1987, these plays called "mali form" or "little form" had been performed for two or three years in Zagreb. Yet both the puppeteers’ commitment to them and the audiences’ acceptance of them left no room for doubt that, far from dated, fable plays were having a comeback. This study examines five of them and includes both the first ("Jaje,") and last ("Armando in

Joli") puppet plays I observed. These are the kinds of plays, then, which formed my original and final impressions of Yugoslav puppetry.

While these newer plays mirror the ideals and values of the classic puppet fables, they break away from the basic structure of the 1950s and their subsequent reproductions. The current set of moral plays is at once more compact (in design) and more expansive (in significance) than either of the others. The lessons of "Zvesdica Pospanka," for example, are quite specific, even literal, and 206 are revealed after elaborate complications.

In contrast, there is neither an elaborate complication nor a transparent directive in current little form fables. "Jaje" and the others are not intended as primers, rather they seek to express some basic truths about human nature or our existence. At first glance, precisely because they elect sublety over proselytizing, it is easy to overlook their moral themes. Yet they are moving performances which stimulate fertile thought; while externally direct and deceptively simple, the little form plays support moral values as fully as their predecessors did.

"Sion U Gradu" ("Elephant in the City") adroitly addresses the concerns about city life which often confuse young children. By diffusing their fears, it allows them to develop self-confidence and perspective. "Sion U Gradu," introduces these themes unobtrusively and gently asks the children to witness the story of one more confused than they:

When somebody is lost and dropped in the big city, somebody, a little inexperienced elephant for example, who was so little and lost that he didn’t know any of the streets or the numbers of his house or where his apartment building was located. He didn’t even understand what traffic lights are and he is afraid and disturbed by the big city. This lovely little story written by SunCana Skrijaric we bring to you with the help of our talking puppets. It is a little for fun, a little for wisdom (Introduction to "Sion U Gradu).

On his odyssey through city streets, a small elephant/boy is befriended by a trio of animals and runs into four humans, three of whom bewilder him more than the traffic lights. Unlike the animals, the humans are unsympathetic and slightly threatening. Martin, a messy child, is the scariest of all and it is not until slon is taken home by a little girl that he is out of the danger of Martin’s way.

Moreover, with the help of the school-girl, Slon befriends his nemesis, transforming Martin from an indolent child into a caring, kind one. 207

"Slon U Gradu" is somewhat short on plot and characterization. Still its

informality (it is best suited to intimate, classroom performance when children sit

beside the puppets) and the clarity of its values on friendship and on kindness to

all are effectively and entertainingly presented. By the end, "Slon U Gradu" is as

much a story of redemption as "Zvesdica Pospanka" and it supports social bonds

as expressively as "Loptica Hoptica." Where it diverges from the classic plays is

not in thematic projection, but in its unfolding of meaning and moral. "Slon U

Gradu" is a modern puppet play because of its approach as well as its topicality

and setting. Its form is fragmented, much like city life, and there is only a

nominal beginning, middle, and even end. Slon simply encounters different

experiences and learns to be a little wiser and kinder. That this knowledge is not

predicated on a crucial mistake but instead on the realities of contemporary life

does not detract from its importance. Furthermore, this lack of frame and climax

only allows, "Slon U Gradu" to feel lighter: in reality it is as substantive as any of

its predecessors.

"Slon U Gradu" is also the kind of play that must be performed, not read

like a text, and depends on an intimate relationship with its audience. The

puppets, large papiér-maché figures mounted on rollers, stand three feet tall,

about the same size as an average pre-schooler. They are wheeled around by the

two puppeteers who narrate the stoiy. A third performer quietly accompanies

them on the guitar. Rotund and sturdy, these puppets project the same kind of generous warmth as Charlie Brown and children cannot resist patting them as they pass.

Moreover while uniform in shape, each puppet is provided with a distinctive 208

appearance to match his own individuality: frog, for instance, is set apart by color

and his long, bent legs; lion, by his brilliant red mane. Children identify each

individual puppet and develop a relationship with Slon in particular. This bond is

what gives the play its emotional highlights. The children experience his every

step, so that simple movements, such as the opening of a vibrant red umbrella or

the whistle of a traffic officer, take on special symbolic intensity. In this way,

while it does not have the high drama of the ticking heart or the abduction by the

zmai. "Slon U Gradu" sustains emotional hold over its audience. That it does so

mildly and modestly is an indication of the seriousness of its design.

"Patkica Blatkica" ("Dirty Little Duck") serves as an even more distilled

approach to the genre. Using the traditional (and now relatively uncommon)

hand or glove puppet, the play is an odd blend of Punch and Judy style slapstick and more traditional folk tale. Alenka, a small peasant girl, has a very special little duck who is forever getting into mischief. Growing sleepy just after she introduces him to us, Alenka retires for a nap, but she asks us first to keep an eye on her pet, sensing that he may land himself in trouble again. Immediately, a sophisticated, smooth talking fox appears and heads straight for the duck. The remainder of the play concerns our keeping Patkica Blatkica out of his clutches.

It becomes the audience’s job to save the duck from the fox, and the children are primed to call for Alenka whenever he comes too close.

It is the play’s texture (Patkica’s daffy sounds and movements coupled with the audiences’ affection for her) which provide the play with its center seam and dramatic intensity. Kristo, the ZKL’s master puppeteer, breathes such energy, humor, and charm into his puppet that the duck appears both real and magical. 209

Secondly, by requiring the audience to assist in keeping Patkica safe, the puppeteers skillfully weave a bond between the audience and the puppets. It is this bond, rather than the incidents of plot, which gives the play its raison d’être and larger social value. In this sense, a play such as "Patkica Blatkica" defies the conventions of ordinary narrative sequence and serves as its own best example: manifesting but not outlining the value of maintaining social relations and of social responsibility, it has been reduced to its most elementary form of story, character, and design. Yet it communicates eloquently with its audience and becomes a classic in its own right.

A third, recent fable from the ZKL called simply "Jaje" ("The Egg") is designed to create similar, enduring bonds with its audience. This time there is no real plot, only a question, "what will I grow up to be?" Befriended by the narrator who serves as intermediary between the inquiring soul of the egg and the audience, "Jaje" tries to figure out what kind of an animal he will turn into. The action is consumed by his quest and calls before us a host of creatures who are potential selves; a frog, snake, snail, crocodile, and owl join the list of possibilities but each has other obligations and carmot fulfill the egg’s destiny. Finally, after a gentle pecking, Franjo, a pile (or chicken) emerges and the quest is completed.

"Jaje" is, of course, everyman and his quest for self-identity is an intrinsic part of what it means to be human. It is also of great interest to young children, especially as they leam to perceive themselves as distinct from others (especially their parents) or as they begin to seek what it is that holds meaning for them as individuals. Moreover, "Jaje" expresses both definition and a sense of the greater mystery that is life and development. It also suggests the importance of diversity 210

and range in our existence. What begins, then, as a simple question becomes a

philosophical inquiry into the meaning and dimensions of life. At one point the

narrator sings:

Neither out of one nor all Each egg entirely equal with another Only one great, another small A third may be dirty while the fourth completely clean.

Finally, in its search for meaning, "Jaje" embraces life fully and

enthusiastically. Philosophic, it is never tedious, somewhat spiritual, it is never

preachy, and involved in the technicalities of the search, it is never tiresome. The

ZKL’s production is an exuberant, sprawling affair, one which seems to go in all

directions at once. Yet there is an overriding warmth in the relationship of the

puppets to one another. Two elements, disorder and kindness, are the central

poles around which the play spins and which represent the contradictions and

complexities of our existence. Both "Jaje" and "Patkica Blatkica" have developed

their own unique harmony between comic chaos and stabilizing emotion. It is in

this physically charged sphere where natural laws and love provide equilibrium

that the puppeteers of Zagreb have found a vehicle to complement their own

brand of artistic energy and social concern.

That such a balance is characteristic of the Zagreb puppeteers becomes clear when their production of "Jaje" is compared with that of the Ljubljana version,

"Jajce." In the Zagreb performance there is a continual interplay between the major forces and elements involved. The play’s vitality is first created out of the intense dialogue between the roving narrator and the audience: he tosses questions out at them as if he were tossing peanuts and the children respond 211 enthusiastically. When the egg begins his search to find out his identity, the children, well-primed by the narrator, help him question the different animals parading by. In addition to the action of the inquiry, there is the almost palpable affection between this burly bear of a man narrator and the small, timid egg.

Sets and puppets are created to complement this basic duality as well. The set is both simple in design and sophisticated in concept: a three dimensional foam rubber screen is designed to represent an ordinary kitchen stove complete with utensils and stacks of pots. Out of hidden pockets, the various puppets slip in and out of view. In performance, there is again the juxtaposition of order (the stove) and disorder (the puppets). Moreover, while common and sturdy to look at, the rubber texture of the set gives it another, slightly unreal dimension. The puppets are both realistic in form and exotic in coloration and speech. The snake, for example, speaks in a dramatic, perfectly articulated voice. Thus, design and character were each channeled to complement the central thematic dualism that serves as the foundation for "Jaje."

The LGL’s production of the same play is equally creative and controlled.

In this production, it is the set, designed by Breda Varl, which creates the lasting impression and represents the tone of the performance as a whole. A large oval stands alone in the center of the stage. A sense of depth is created by the numerous layers and folds of the green material which is wrapped around and through it. The puppets appear and retreat through the folds within the oval.

There is a visual expression of softness and a sense of protection to the configuration of the folds. Two narrators, one on either side of the oval, gently and lovingly guide the egg through his quest. Both puppeteers are women and 212

their delivery evokes an idealization of women as nurturers, as mothers.

Moreover, in its tone and approach to its action, the play is an idealization of the

Slovene puppet "tradition" examined in Chapter IV. While "Jacje" is not a

marionette play, it nonetheless exemplifies the aesthetic standards which

distinguish conventional Slovene string puppetry. While "Jaje" ends with a rousing

cheer of a song and then a soft goodbye, "Jajce" concludes with the gentlest good

night kiss of a lullaby.

Having differentiated between the styles characteristic of Zagreb and

Slovene professional puppetry, I would like to conclude analysis of the moral fables with two productions directed by a young Slovene rezija. Jelena Sitar’s work is of particular interest because artistically she spans these two styles in addition to bridging generations and institutions. Currently a free-lance director,

Sitar was trained at the city’s youth puppet workshop, at the Majaron brothers’ theater, and at the LGL. Much of her time today is spent running workshops for local adolescents and it is their production of "Lesena Raca," ("The Wooden

Duck") which can be perceived as a hybrid between the Zagreb and Ljubljana styles of puppetry. "The Wooden Duck," like the other little form fables is condensed and deceptively simple. Texture and tone are the key elements, supplanting plot and character development. Detail becomes symbolic but also serves as a source of visual humor. Dialogue is even more reduced in "The

Wooden Duck," a tale in which absurdity reigns over order in an ordinary kitchen.

Somehow, despite the efforts of the duck who turns the kitchen upside down, natural order is restored and the play ends on a subdued note. Created by the students themselves, it is an unassuming yet effective fable, one not afraid of 213

pratfalls nor a bit of sentimentality. Perhaps because of the youthful energy and

the lack of prescribed aesthetic standards, "The Wooden Duck," stands as an

anomaly.

A second play directed by Sitar for the Maribor State Theater is "Armando

in Joli" and if "The Wooden Duck" did not fit the mold of conventional Slovene

puppet fable, this play transcends that mold. "Armando in Joli" is so tightly

compressed in size and design that it takes place within one fixed set, the back of

a caravan wagon. Only the lights of the wagon blink on and off or the passing of

scenery, changes and signifies movement. The central action is fixed, too, on the

relationship between a circus clown and a wandering dog he befriends. Yet in

"Armando in Joli’s" reduced scale lies its depth. The odd couple are bound by a fi'iendship stronger than any of the dangers surrounding them or any of the fears they possess, and when they become separated, their loneliness becomes frighteningly intense. Through their friendship the play explores the depths of human feeling and its meaning is universal. When, at the end Joli wanders back to the campfire and falls asleep in the clown’s arms, there is an overwhelming sense of peace, even perfection -- as if the world had suddenly been set back into order. It is most like Beckett’s couple who have found Godot.

These five contemporary little form fables represent a marked development from the standard reproductions, such as 'Tigric" and "Univerijiada." Emotions, for one thing, are the threads which weave the plays together. Moreover their texture is created by the strength corresponding design, symbol, and performance of the play. Thirdly, even though diminished in physical scale, these plays are comprised of an expansive emotional depth which has no apparent limits. Their 214 meaning is prescribed in that infinity. Thus, while on the surface these fable plays appear slight because they lack the structure of the earlier fables, they express a message that is equally clear and may even be, ultimately, more universal and timeless.

Tales of Adventure

The set of tales which are best described as adventures hold a decided dramatic edge and are created to keep audiences guessing the where and how of the action. Both international faiiy tales and regional or ethnic folk stories are centered in plot. In the fairy tales action is frequently complicated by external forces, often enchanted ones, which both transform the ordinary into the extraordinary and which render the hero their personal pawn. Because they are intended to be scary, to reveal all that is unsafe or socially unacceptable just as the darker sides of ritual defined as "anti-structure" can, these plays are suitable for older children. Thus, as in the case of moral fables, this genre contains a specific set of standard features and properties. Our concern here is with how puppetry enhances them through performance.

While there is an abundance of good fairy tales available to be made into puppet plays, there seems to be an irmer core of puppet texts which frequently surface on the stages of Zagreb and Slovene puppet theaters. "The Snow Queen,"

"Puss and Boots," and "The Tin Soldier" have each been produced several times over by the major Yugoslav puppet theaters. Familiarity appears to be an important part of the success of these plays, and I have chosen to examine several fairy tales which, because they are so well known, have been given different artistic treatments. 215

"Minica," a futuristic rendition of the Anderson classic fairy tale,

"Thumbelina," is representative of the kind of alterations designers and directors

felt necessary in the 1970s and 1980s. Both through its space age motif and

symbols as well as through its emotional distance, "Minica" strives to be a

contemporary play. While the narrative structure of the play was kept intact, it is the detail and staging which promote the idea of modernity. Minica, dressed to look like a large, prettified doll, is dwarfed by the space machines surrounding her; yet as she is performed by the actress, she is merely a passive creature who allows things to happen to her. Consequently there is no character depth or development within the play and while "Minica" is diverting because of its high tech wizardry, it never becomes anything more than entertainment.

"Cactus Story," produced for the ZKL several years ago, is another fairy tale told on a large scale and with numerous narrative complications. Like "Minica" it is amusing to a degree because it stands as a Zagreb version of a western, one complete with "kauboys" named "Hank Dunk" and "Blackie OMuulator" or

Indians with unpronounceable names such as "Krava Koja Rinta" or

"Mi-Ta-Haza." These characters are never intended to be more than stereotypes, however, and it is this conceptualization which makes "Cactus Story" resemble a cartoon or comic strip. Yet, whatever the atmosphere and tone, the play remains a fairy tale in structure and form. Young lovers are united and the villains quieted only after intervention by forces of enchantment, the Great Spirit, an ancestral ghost atop a white stallion. Balancing the slapstick of the comic action and the hokeyness of the magical elements, is the production's visual elegance. A large, iridescent sky serves as the main backdrop; its brilliant sunset is repeated in 216

the earth tones and colors of the costumes and props. As in "Minica," sets and

costumes assume greater meaning than the narrative or its themes.

An even more durable fixture of the ZKL repertory was the Deîilié

rendition of the "The Wizard of Oz." In this production, which was over a decade

old, the directors sought to match the linear movement of the narrative with

formal, linear design. Puppets, sets, and the few props created for "Carobnyk iz

Oza" all conform to this one-dimensional concept. Because the puppets were

made out of uniform cylinders (heads) atop long rods, they are not capable of

much variety of movement: they move forward and back or twirl around.

Similarly they are not capable of much motion and this is a detached piece of

puppet theater, quite different from either the well-known film of the Baum story

or from the classic adventure fables, such as "Zvesdica Pospanka." Thus there is

little tangible emotional feeling between the scarecrow, lion, tinman, and Dorothy,

and there is only a subdued reaction from the audience when they are in danger,

such as when the witch plants poppies to make them sleep or when they finally

meet the wizard.

What made the play most interesting, however, was the arrangement of a

complement of yellow placards which moved and was realigned to parallel the

narrative action. Stretched out in a line, they became the yellow brick road;

grouped in a circular cluster, they became the sun; arranged with a variety of peaks, they became a castle tower. The wizard was designed along parallel lines.

He consisted of eight or so geometric shapes which, unconnected, look like what they are, a simple colored square, circle, or triangle; connected properly they form an imposing abstraction suggesting mystery, power, formality and, when 217 disconnected after the wizard is found out, they collapse like so many falling toy blocks. However arresting these shapes and their movements were for adults, it is difficult to gauge what meaning they held for children. In plays that have limited range, such as "Carobnyk iz Oza" and "Univerijada", it is the expertise of the puppeteers, especially their expressive vocalization, which provides the play with its most dramatic features and conviction.

These three plays were representative of the fairy tale puppet productions I observed at the ZKL. Characterization and emotional depth were diminished in favor of formal narrative structure dependent on a string of interwoven incidents and complications. Either through elaboration of detail or streamlining of design, these productions were exaggerated in some way or degree. The intimation that contemporary puppeteers were not satisfied with the tale as a genre itself surfaced during my last interview with puppeteers in November 1988. They explained that for the upcoming fortieth anniversary of the ZKL, they had planned to revive its first play, "The Snow Queen." Research had shown that this post-war performance was a sort of avant-guard experience in socialist realism. One puppeteer told me, "But if you see text, it is really socialist realism. Snow White is princess, you know, but there is no prince for her, only proletariat sailor... and all characters so black and white." My source then explained that the new production would also be experimental, it would "...challenge everything we now show." Without being more specific, he made it clear that now, as in 1948, "The

Snow Queen" was not to be trusted on its own merits but was, again, about to become a vehicle with political meaning.

If I had concentrated solely on professional puppet theater in Zagreb I 218 would have come to one set of conclusions about the meaning of faiiy tales for

contemporary puppeteers. An altogether different set of factors and elements set

amateur performances of fairy tales apart from the professional ones. Without

examination of the amateur activity and its productions of fairy tale puppetry, this

evaluation would have remained incomplete. Amateur puppeteers favor fairy tales for many of the same reasons professionals do, that is, they are familiar to large numbers of audiences, they are accessible scripts, and they have a high entertainment level. Amateurs usually depend more on narrative action than professional puppeteers, with their voice and stage training, need to. Moreover, fairy tales also lend themselves to broad individual interpretation. There is no one right narrative or complexion. It is this capacity for variation and personal emphasis which makes them especially choice for the amateur puppeteers I met in

Zagreb.

"Briar Rose" best exemplifies the kind of spiritual orientation which can inform a puppet fairy tale. The performance was created by a young woman who ran Zagreb’s first and possibly only private pre-school, and it was designed to express her particular educational philosophy. She accomplished this through design, style, atmosphere, and tone. In "Briar Rose," each of these properties was symbolic of her understanding of the creative process which accompanies individual development. Her assistant, a young geologist, told me: "It is the whole composite, the softness, the music, yes, as a dream - like the sleeping princess."

Set atop a series of six rising steps, each colored with a silk scarf, the puppets moved from the first onto the next tier as the action moved onto a following scene. Starting on the first step (yellow silk) the royal couple is 219 introduced; on the second (pink) a princess is bom to them; on the third step, the evil fairy casts her spell (purple) and so on until the sixth and final step where all fall asleep under that spell. A large white silk cloth is then draped over the entire scene, only to be lifted by the prince who makes his way up through the bramble

(a brown silk cover) by traveling up all the steps. Each movement, like this staging is deliberate and symbolic. The silk of the puppets’ robes and that of the steps create an elusive, but graceful quality. Movement is emphasized, too, in the gentle narration and soft flute accompaniment. Finally movement is promoted over character because these puppets are faceless forms. Children, I was informed, should not be exposed to adult interpretation: "Little children three or four, do not need to see faces painted on. They are each to imagine their own: let their own minds let them see...." Two values, then, clearly inform this puppet art: one is centered in the principal advocating individual self-expression or artistic exploration, and the other follows the stylistic aesthetics of classic Slovene string puppetry. How do young audiences respond? They were attentive and thoroughly absorbed by the totality of the performance.

The plays created by still other amateur puppeteers who perform in local pockets of the city reinforced the idea that the children of Zagreb do not require circus style entertainment or action packed puppetry. Most of these puppeteers are associated with education in some way, and many perform regularly in the classroom. One group composed of two educators from the Pedagogical Faculty performs every Thursday evening at six o’clock. It is a time when working parents bring their young children after their midday dirmer. Held in a stark chamber with arched windows which give it the air of a small chapel, these puppet plays 220 are composed by a veteran teacher, Vlaska, who creates her puppets out of oddly shaped gourds or bits of wool and burlap.

Her group is called KVAK (after the call of the duck) and their performances are designed,as were Nada’s, to appeal to the still developing imagination of the child. KVAK puppetry is almost always silent, or rather lacking in dialogue (because quiet music is an integral part of the performance).

KVAK puppets appear to be choreographed as much as directed. With narrative kept to a minimum, it is the overall movement of the play which creates the tale and while these are not fairy tales in the strictest structural sense, they are tales which call upon enchantment to transform the child/hero to new awareness.

There are a host of creatures involved in their play, "Hoéu Biti Brljiban" ("I Want

To Be a Chatterer") and they are in themselves enchanting in their whimsy. A small baby bird separates from the other dancing animals and he tries to decide how to grow up. Through the magic of an enchanted flower he experiments with different possibilities. The bird’s search is more of an adventure among many unique and fanciful creatures, a cow with grand horns, an elf and a dwarf, a sheep, a duck, a cat, and a crow. Male and female figures take on archetypal roles and serve as models for the eventual mating of the bird with another.

United, they fly off and the other creatures celebrate in a festival dance. While the themes mirror those of "Jaje," there is less intellectualization in KVAK’s tale; the emphasis is on learning through the experience of adventure and allowing imagination to provide its own enchantment.

Another play circulating through the libraries and classrooms around town in

1988 was "Bulululo", a puppet dance of like form and focus. Again the emphasis 221 is on process rather than on plot alone. "Bulululo" is a symbolic presentation of one interpretation of the story of creation. A progression of life forms, from simple finger dot puppets to a snail to elaborate carved woodland creatures, each becomes a hero in his own right, and it is the cumulative sum of their experience which becomes the substance of the action. There is only a mild suggestion of a struggle between opposing forces of good and evil; otherwise there is balance and restraint throughout.

A different artistic expression of many of the same philosophic ideas found in these amateur performances is created in the shadow puppetry of Vanda

Sestak. Supporting herself and her son by making the sponge and cloth hand puppets common in local schools, Vanda also conducts workshops for adolescents.

The plays she creates for them are intended to serve as a spiritual quest and to promote individual self-evaluation. The forces of good and evil play a dominant role within these plays, and her choice of black/white images on the shadow screen underlines this central duality. The play I observed, "The Night of the

Shadows" was performed at the popular fiower market square, the Trg Bratstva i

Jedinstva, one May evening as part of a celebration for Youth Day. It was something of an epic fairy tale in which the hero comes to slay a dragon who, in turn, transforms him into a constellation. In the end, man has come and gone but the forces of nature, both those benign - the sea and the sky - and those of a darker side - the dragon - remain eternal.

Very much like the work of the amateur puppeteers (all women) who were active in Zagreb in 1987 and 1988, "Night of the Shadows" was expressionistic and inner directed. Fairy tales, whether formal or unstructured, are ideal vehicles for 222 this approach. One puppeteer informed me: "I prefer only old fairy tales where good and evil are presented as part of a whole, of two sides which are part of life experience, but in which good - after a passage through areas of evil... prevails."

While the puppeteers of KVAK have expunged the evil forces, they have maintained a parallel emphasis on the choices and natural forces of life.

Whatever the dimension of these forces, though, each of the amateurs was intent on presenting a spiritual element to their young audiences.

Tales of Adventure: Folk Stories

The second set of plays involving adventure and frequently magic are based on the traditional folk legends of Croatia or Slovenia. Without exception, each of the dozen puppet plays based on folk tale or legend was spirited and richly endowed. That they are a source of pride and are associated with broader cultural concerns, such as language maintenance and ethnic identity in Slovenia, has been outlined previously in Chapter V. Yet even when there is not such a clearcut relationship between folk tale puppetry and cultural integrity, it still carries symbolic value. Croats are every bit as proud of their national heroes, whether fictive or historical, and their performances of folk tales are taken seriously.

The quality and excitement that this puppetry generated on the part of the performers in Zagreb as well as in Slovenia served as the basis of my analysis. I knew what puppeteers and cultural activists claimed the function of this puppetry was, but I needed to determine what its aesthetic and social standards entailed.

Even though they all belonged to the genre of folk story, the puppet plays I saw were so very different in tone and texture that it would be difficult to assess them 223

individually here. Instead, I have focused on four principal themes or properties

which each add to the value of the puppetry.

A definitive sense of place and time is a cornerstone of each of these plays.

Whereas fairy tales tend to be located in some mythical land, either an idealized

rural spot or a fantasy kingdom, puppet plays based on folk legends are rooted in

specific cultural sites. The details of housing, custom, and social grouping provide

the background texture for the plays. The heroes of folk based puppetry also tend

to be well carved and identifiable characters: even if archetypes, they are colorful

and vivid ones in contrast to the somewhat bland heroes and heroines of the fairy

tale. Because they are tied to the land, these plays provide clues into how a

culture sees itself or would like to interpret its past. Fairy tales often ponder,

"Wouldn’t it be nice if..?", while folk puppetry plays tend to say, "This is either the

way it was or should have been."

"Uskoéka Kapa" is such a production. Set in the sixteenth century and

located against the stretch of Dalmatian coast continually fought over by the

Venetians and pirates, its dominant character flows from rich enthnographic detail

and symbol: the carved wooden boats, the peasant smock and sailor dress, the

folk tunes played on pipes, and even the dialogue, somewhat formal and old

worldly. "Jaje HarambaSa" is a rousing episode in the exploits of a folk hero and

the production at the amateur theater in Dubrava is similarly steeped in costume,

dance, and folklore. A more recent performance, "Grga," a little form from the

ZKL, depicts a modern folk hero in a simple narrative about a young Partisan

soldier. Here there is a dearth of detail, but the boy’s plain uniform and tank become potent symbols on their own as they stand out against the stark mountain 224

backdrop. Whether lyrical, folksy, or filled with emotional depth, these puppet

plays are both steeped in idealized tradition and in a sense of history.

An inter-related cluster of themes centered around the hero protagonist

serve as a second common property of these puppet plays. The principal one is,

of course, the motif of The Journey, which establishes both the rationale for the

narrative action and the base for the hero’s personal development. Frequently the

voyage is an ordeal, one which the hero must endure in order to prove himself

worthy. In the ZKL’s "Dugonja, Trbonja, i Vidonja," a callow youth is

transformed into a hero and proves deserving of the princess he rescued. Luckily for him, he is joined by an odd trio (of the title): one who is short, one fat, and

one who sees clearly. Together these characters form a composite whole and can

conquer the ogre only as a single unit. By the end of the play the group’s strengths have been transferred to the hero and he appears far more capable and crafty than the youth who first appeared. The Journey thus represents a rite of passage, a symbolic change of status from boy to man. In "Grga," however, the irony that while the boy matures emotionally during the war, he dies still a boy, provides a poignant ending.

Moreover, after proving himself worthy by mental and physical prowess, the hero acquires moral strength as well. Virtue is rewarded in these traditional narratives. Jaje HarambaSa’s actions acquire moral scope when he is seen as the liberator of his oppressed people, and his actions are justified by the virtues associated with his cause. Similarly the boy who seeks to free his father captured by the Venetians in "Uscocka Kapa" does so under the mantle of national liberator, and this symbol has been a key property of many of the Slovene folk 225 plays, "Martin Krpn" and "Kraj Mattiaz" for example, which were discussed in

Chapter V. The association of the heroes’ actions with moral conviction is a subtle but consistent element running through these plays based on folk tale or legend.

The dualism between the forces of good and evil serves as a corollary property. It is this dynamic struggle for control over the other which prompted the narrative action and which, when the two clash symbolically in the duel between hero and villain, creates the dramatic climax. In some cases, such as in

"Grga," the force is so powerful that it threatens whole villages, regions, nations.

At other times, it threatens to undermine the moral fabric of a society. In the

Dubrava amateur production of "Suma Staroboda" ("The Ancient Forest") it is presented as a primeval contest over man’s soul. A beautiful snake/bride suffocates the woodsman she has ensnared with her passion, and she is stopped only by the groom’s long suffering mother and the young peasant girl who befriends her. The pair are granted power by the Great Forest Spirit and with that the snake/bride is doomed. After her violent death, order is restored to the forest and the newly married woodsman and peasant girl are joined in celebration by the entire village. The play concludes with a traditional "all’s well" ending of song and dance.

A contemporary approach to the theme of restoration of order and social or moral equilibrium Is found in the ZKL’s "Heraklo." It was a highly stylized and symbolic adaptation of the story of Hercules. Classical columns and amphoras replace peasant motifs in this production, but the essence of the moral struggle is preserved. Not only must Hercules combat one mythical monster after another. 226

he must learn to recognize that the greater evil lies in the corruption and

deception within the royal court. Moreover, Hercules must overcome his

reputation for invincibility and his own aloofness, both of which have isolated him

from society for so long, by deciding to act as his conscience, not his king or pride,

dictates. "Heraklo" stands as a departure from the convention because the

struggle of greatest significance lies within him. He is a modern, existentialist

hero set within a more traditional narrative pattern. To some extent, "Grga"

serves as a variation of this concept also. Rather than condemn the enemy, rather

than dwell on the polarity between the Partisans and the Germans, the play

stresses that it is war itself, not the individual soldiers who are the true enemy of

men and societies. In the conventional sense, neither Grga nor Heraklo emerge

from the physical battle victorious, yet their courage in the face of self-doubt and fear, is a symbolic victory over moral decay and destruction. That this is an

emerging theme or orientation within Slovene and Croatian puppetry as it moves towards a greater focus on the individual will become clearer in the following

analysis of experimental theater.

Finally, a supernatural power exists within these puppet plays which comes to the aid of the protagonist either after he has proved himself worthy or as he begins the process. In some cases a location or object contains the power. In many traditional Slavic tales, it is the §uma or the forest which itself possesses magic powers. The Great Spirit manifests this power in "§uma Staroboda," and in

"Dugonja, Trbonja, i Vidonja", it is through the forest that the hero and his friends must travel. At other times, that power is personified, most often by a sage. In

"Uscocka Kapa", the boy is tutored by a mysterious old man who appears out of 227

the mountains. The homeless peasant girl whose kindness rescues the woodsman’s mother in "Suma Staroboda" becomes the Great Spirit’s mortal

surrogate. On the reverse side, evil is frequently anthropomorophized as well.

The ogre/sorcerer in "Dugonja, Trbonja, i Vidonja" is one prime example, the

bride/snake of "Suma Staroboda" another. But in the most recent variations of

this genre, the powers, like the protagonist, become increasingly symbolic and less literal. Thus, in "Grga" it is the toy tank and rifle before us that hold the power of evil and destruction, and in "Heraklo" the intense buzz buzz of a locust intermingles with the buzz of whispered conversations of the courtesans, implying decay is everywhere present. What is perhaps the foundation of these plays, both traditional and contemporary, is the fundamental representation of those positive forces, be they individual or reflective of the greater social order through the natural world. It is in nature or in that which is naturally pure, untarnished, where good prevails and awaits the return of the hero.

In conclusion, I perceived that puppetry based on folk legend or folk motif was given a more serious and more direct production than that of faiiy tales among professional puppeteers. While both types of puppet plays shared similar narrative structure and theme, enchantment for example, the folk tale was treated with greater integrity by its creators. These tales are performed honestly and the humor within them is allowed to seep through. It is entirely possible that in these plays, the depiction of a historic situation and the ethnographic detail provide the puppeteers with the rationale for performance. The puppet fables were about socialization and moral growth; the plays based on folk tale or motif also serve to educate and inform modern children of their rural, Slavic heritage. In so doing. 228

they interpret history much as they idealized family and society in the fable puppetry. Both serve as more than entertainment and in pursuit of that value,

their aesthetic qualities are enforced and given signiflcant context.

Experimental Puppetry

Puppetry explicitly defined by its innovation rather than by the more

conventional properties like theme or text are exceedingly individualistic and,

consequently, more difficult to categorize. By the very base rationale which

created them, they are designed to break away from traditional design or

orientation. I saw a truly eclectic variety of experimental puppetry in Zagreb and in Slovenia. These plays ranged in scope and in conceptualization, yet they shared a common purpose of promoting texture over structure or plot, characterization, and theme. Furthermore, each was designed to present a multitude of symbols which could be interpreted on various levels or with various themes. Finally, they were, like the little form puppet fables, compressed, some even seemed as if they had entered a time warp, and the logic of the temporal world, like that of literal detail, had little meaning.

These plays ranged, then, from the obscure to the profound. At times they were less effective as theater because they worked so hard to eschew conventions.

Dialogue was so minimal in "Slovarica," a tale about the letters of the alphabet, and the music so assonant in "Madrac", a mock opera about a bed and other furniture, that there was not enough theme to carry the weight of the performance. A more enlightening example of this was "Teophraus," a little form for adults produced by the ZKL. Based on the play by Aristophanes, "The

Gossiping," the performance manifested the hollow voices of society not through 229

the lone actor/narrator but through the discordant sound of over thirty

mismatched instmments played individually or in sets. Action was another means

of superseding the restraints and literalness of conventional dialogue. "Alicia" for

example, the Slovene student interpretation of "Alice in Wonderland" substituted

live actors for puppets, and meaning was created by the mechanization of their

gestures, symbolizing contemporary shallow existence. Other productions used

visual symbols almost exclusively to convey meaning. The seduction of both the

flowing river and the bare-breasted beauty of the water fairies in the Slovene tale

about what happens to the woodcutters when they float lumber downstream every

spring was another vivid example.

The most arresting experimental plays were puppetry that maximized each of

these elements (design, symbol, music and so forth) to create an atmosphere so

intense that text became, at best, a secondary property altogether. The ZKL’s

"Od Zlata Jabuka" is its most prized contemporary work. Only marginally

developed after the story, "The Golden Apple," which inspired it, the play

operates on multiple, constantly interchanging, levels: on the original tale of the

king with the choice fruit; on the historic relationship between the famed Croat

sculptor, MeStrovié, and his royal patron; and on the Faustian metaphor of greed

and power and self-determination. Designed as a period, turn-of-the-century piece by Zlako Bourek, a contemporary painter and visual artist, the play’s satire is visually portrayed by the suggestive behavior of the courtiers and the prominent features of the royal henchmen, gargoyles of sinister, obscene gestures and posture. Hypocrisy, lust, treachery, and greed, are fancifully, outrageously, splashed before us. Puppeteers told me repeatedly, "It is not the text that is at all 230 interesting; it is the performance."

Bourek also designed the "Hamlet" playing at the Theater ITD, a small theater associated with the University. Based on Tom Stoppard’s fifteen minute distillation of Shakespeare’s tragedy, this performance moves with lightning speed.

Here the puppets and their manipulators are merged into one, ungainly whole: the actors are strapped onto square rolling hassocks which they maneuver by their own sneakered feet. Each actor holds on his lap a three-quarter sized cloth figure and the combination of puppet head and torso coupled with oversized (human) legs and feet is one of a number of startling visual effects. Another is created by the ghastly faces of the puppets. In stark contrast to the white sheets of the hassocks and set backdrop, the puppets’ faces are painted black and their features are distorted renditions of traditional Venetian festival masks. Noses protrude obscenely, representing different stages of moral decay. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark, clearly. These characters are its walking corpses and only the gravedigger and the ghost are spared from the haunted, garish look.

There is moreover, no dramatic intensity in the final duel or in the entrance of Fortinbras. He arrives not as a redeeming prince but as a figure as tarnished as Claudius and his court. Thus, rather than hope for renewal, there is only remorse at the waste of human life and potential in the end. For all the quick action and clipped dialogue (Hamlet’s soliloquy becomes one abbreviated line), the performance feels heavy under the weight of cormption. As the puppeteers are strapped to their seats, unable to move except with deliberate awkwardness, so are the characters trapped by their moral decadence. The audience witnesses this corruption and, as the fren:^ mounts, the impending tragedy. It is a 231

provocative, moving performance.

Satires such as "Hamlet" and "Od Zlata Jabuka" prick the air out of the

self-important, self-proclaimed art of kultura. and they do so in the standing

custom of the Western avant-garde movement. Conceived by and appealing to a

small intellectual stratum, there is little attempt to reach mass distribution or

consciousness through them. These productions treat their own activities and their audiences with the same irreverence, lack of sentimentality, and cool detachment. The principles of Deïilié years ago are here combined with those of

Brechtian theater. In the juxtaposition of chaos (lack of structure and chaos) with design (symbol and concept), there is a lurking, unsettling, and deadly serious edge. That these plays are appearing on the stages of state theaters commissioned to bring culture and meaningful entertainment to young citizens is an irony appreciated by the puppeteers.

Conclusion

It should by now be clear that such satires parallel the kind of experimentation puppeteers have been engaged in in children’s puppetry, specifically in the small plays of Frane Puntar in Slovenia as well as in the "little forms" there and in Zagreb. Thus, whether in adult satire or in theater for the very young, these puppeteers are embarked on a new interpretation of the intrinsic properties of puppetry and on the potential contributions of puppet theater.

Both kinds of experimentation explicitly illustrate the broader shift away from externalized structure towards internalized, personal, recognition, or "Jaje’s" epiphanies. Plot and situation become merely means, not ends in themselves. 232

These plays are concerned not with the how, what, or when of external action but

with the process of revelation itself. They attempt to present or reveal the

elements and conditions man must confront in order to make sense or meaning

out of existence.

This change in orientation is manifest in the formal properties of puppetry.

In the moral fables, it enabled the message to be refined just as the structure was

simplified. The puppeteers tossed out the pedantic and replaced it with a new

respect for their audiences. Such plays suggest rather than demonstrate and along

the way they foster individual thought and perception. The puppeteers are intent

on striking up a conversation, in some cases a Socratic dialogue, with their

audiences. It is an approach which mirrors the objectives of the CEV program

circulating through the classrooms of Slovenia discussed in Chapter V. They

express an unmistakable emphasis on self-direction, a change from the formulated guides of older puppetry.

Furthermore, characterization has been reshaped as well as form. Just as no

two little forms are structurally alike, but share most of all common humanitarian values, the characters of recent puppet plays are neither models nor stereotypes.

Whereas Little Star was distinguished from her sisters only by the color of her dress in "Zvesdica Pospanka," there is no such stress on conformity in current plays. Armando and Joli are uniquely, imperfectly themselves. The current moral fables are, like the plays rooted in folk stories, peopled by characters not prescribed characterizations.

Thirdly, there is a basic shift in the presentation of order and authority.

These properties were represented by elders in the classic plays: the old couple 233

in "Loptica Hoptica," the paternal figure in "Zvesdica Pospanka," the adult

community in "Tigrid." Today there is a far different sort of order: it is based

not on age or any particular kind of hierarchical structure but on more

symmetrical social bonds. Resolution brings renewal of friendship, not restoration

of society. Order, rather, stems from nature and friendship. This direction is not random. It reflects a broader-cultural emphasis in Slovenia and in Croatia on the individual and, on another level, on national or ethnic self-determination as expressed in the recent change in the Slovene constitution.

Assessment of the forms and design of contemporary puppetry reveals how puppeteers are, like other activists and artists, intent on shaking loose old conventions and charting a course which holds greater meaning for its people.

The current designers are restructuring their works so that each production most succinctly expresses the central idea informing it, and it is this synthesis which endows current puppet plays with their individuality and integrity. CHAPTER Vm

CONCLUSIONS ON FORM, PROCESS, AND RITUAL

Introduction

In the preceding chapters I assessed the relationship between Yugoslav

cultural ideals and its puppetry’s organizational structure, social contract, and

aesthetic principles. The correspondence between abstract ideals and artistic

practices was traced through a set of social and political mechanisms, such as

power brokers, the organizational framework, community activity, fiscal planning,

and social networking. Through these identifiable properties, puppetry’s role

within Yugoslav cultural activity at large was placed in the context of cultural

history, policy, and current status.

Throughout this analysis, puppetry’s role as representative to generations of

schoolchildren was interpreted as molding the kinds and orientations of plays produced over the past forty years. Examination of the development of theme,

stmcture, and attitude in conjunction with other social and political patterns (e.g., urbanization or ethnic unrest) sheds light on contemporary cultural dynamics.

Puppetry is an apt tool for such analysis because of its own organic nature, because of the national priorities on youth and kultura. and because of the individual commitment of amateurs and professionals to serious theater.

Increasingly, moreover, just as communicator/educator/commentator are defined

234 235 by larger cultural values, so its present course, one of expansion, is indicative of

Yugoslavia’s recognition of its current political position.

Beneath the quantitative social and political properties of Yugoslav puppetry lies another set of dynamics, the ritualistic components shaping individual performances and distinguishing puppetry’s symbolic meaning. Designs, motifs, and visual and aural poetic devices express cultural values as clearly as the more concrete properties. While less tangible and more elusive, these features are more complex and symbolic. Their presence heightens puppetry’s ritualistic dimension, allowing puppetry to be more than entertainment, or a teaching tool, or an edict on social standards. By stimulating individual perceptions, it promotes shared, social experience, enabling puppetry to serve as a unifying force or social catalyst.

What sets such puppetry - or any artistic activity which serves as ritual - apart is the value its performers place on reaching the individual psyche. One puppeteer succinctly expressed his primary ambition: "to make theater from the heart that speaks to the audience." The Yugoslav critic Bozidar Zecevic, once identified the dominant characteristic of Yugoslav cinema as its passion, noting that it is the catalyst and cornerstone of film, that "in it is all the art" (1987:6-9).

Such intense involvement is also at the heart of most Yugoslav puppetry.

Productions are uneven, perhaps now more so than in the past when the system was not so challenged from external crisis. Yet, the puppetry I Saw in Croatia and

Slovenia was initiated and crafted with a similar, serious sense of purpose and commitment. In performance, these are made manifest by the richness and ritualism of the puppetry. 236

Cultural Values and Ritual in Performance

How are the convictions and sensibilities of the puppeteers transposed into the process and ritual of performance? Poetic devices and symbols are complementary partners in extending puppetry’s meaning beyond the social and political functions outlined in Chapters V, VI, and VII. These devices are part of the process which intensifies performance ideas and purposes. Puppeteers expressed this in different ways but with singular emphasis:

Puppet theater is important especially as a device to teaching language, our national Hrvatski-Serbski. It is also important in exercising the mind of the child, of letting them see beyond the common world or letting them see more clearly (Croatian professional puppeteer).

Our interest is to make creativity and joy for children (Croatian amateur puppeteer).

Puppetry is the first type of theater children are exposed to: it lets children know the world in a new way (Croatian professional puppeteer).

Puppet art is a unique form needing cherishing and cultivating. It is total theater for individuals of all ages. It is theater for individuals to use imagination and iimovation. In this children have the advantage over adults. But we must not lose this ability. Puppets inspire us and bring us on wings of imagination (Slovenian cultural agent).

Good puppetry should try to leave something at the end for children to discuss (Croatian professional puppeteer).

Puppet theater is part ritual always (Croatian professional puppeteer).

Puppet play can be ironic, intellectual (or removed from us) or very humanistic. For children’s performances you need to play from the heart, they must feel emotion (Slovenian professional puppeteer).

Puppets must be very rich, very beautiful, very fine aesthetics and this is important for children to see this aesthetic quality (Slovenian amateur puppeteer).

Such values inform the ritualistic dimensions of puppetry: together with artistic standards, social contract, and internal organization they shape and define 237

Yugoslav puppetry, endowing it with its own particular qualities and character.

One device fulfilling this role is the fi-ame, that element or feature which introduces and closes the play. It can be established in any number of ways, set as a motif, a song, or a character. It makes its impression immediately and is useful in sustaining unity. The design of the traditional Slovene bee-house in

"Pegam in Lumberger" is an evocative folk symbol and set device. A simple song which the children are encouraged to learn is another such device: the nonsense rhyme in "Patkica Blatkica" becomes a theme for the children: "Napried, napried jedan dva. Jez y va i djece sva," ("Forward, forward, one two three. Hedgehog is here and so are we").

A different semiotic feature is created when the narrators serve as a frame.

In this instance, several functions are fulfilled simultaneously. The narrator warms the audience up, he prepares them for their participation in the performance, he also explicates the complications, and he can act as a buffer to the puppets. In "Sion U Gradu," one of the narrators sets the scene and tone for very young audiences: "A small toy elephant was left behind in the sand box one day and this is what happened when he was lost and miserable and tried to find his way home." In other plays, the narrator adds another dimension altogether by serving as a go-between, an intermediary, between the children and the puppets, between the real world and the fantasy onstage. His unique position allows him entry into both worlds and, floating between them, he bridges the gap between them.

Sometimes the play’s credibility rides on this ability, which requires an intuitive actor, one who encourages children to pull him between the two worlds. 238

Ivica, in "Jaje" bounds up to the stage dressed in kid’s wear, sweatpants and sneakers. "Good morning," he greets them as if they were school-chums. The play’s rezija explained Ivica’s appeal in this role.

He is a performer who played seriously a child and they could see this even though he is this big, strong fellow with enormous shoulders and a magnificent voice... that he was one of them. And the whole problem, the critical question (of the play) is a kind of quest but the design is one of children playing.

Another puppeteer at the same theater told me that is was necessary to take his audience and their world seriously before approaching them:

Children’s play is just not play. It is something they work at and yet it is children’s. So lutaka theater should also be something that is playful. It is part one and part of another but for children it is the same serious (Puppeteer at the ZKL).

Moreover, the narrator sets the tone and creates the emotional atmosphere of a performance. Two different performances of the same play with the same actors at the same theater revealed this when the narrators were changed. The first narrator of "Zvesdica Pospanka" was invisible and with his deep, sonorous voice he seemed an omniscient presence. There was a formality and distance in his role. The second narrator, on the other hand, appeared before us and took a seat on a bench just to the side of the stage, close to the audience. His informality, his proximity, and his lack of dramatic pretense created a warmer, more caring atmosphere which lasted the entire show, and he was always available, even during the dramatic, scarier scenes.

Thirdly, a central symbol can serve as the frame on its own. In the Slovene version of "Jajce," the large oval set becomes a metaphor for genesis, the intricate folds signifying the complexity and mystery of the process. In the Slovene amateur play recounting the dangers befalling family men when they leave in 239 spring to transport lumber to the valley, the immense multi-layered cloth serving as the river alternately represented the journey, life sources, beauty, and danger.

It also serves as a kind of visual antithesis to order and society when it becomes turbulent and overwhelming in its power. The disturbing sight in "Hamlet" of actor-puppets strapped, mummy-like, onto the rolling hassocks is another symbolic frame. The actor-puppets’ gestures are awkward and pathetic. Yet, despite the restriction they move with quicksilver speed which, when coupled with clipped dialogue, accelerates into one chaotic blur. Hamlet’s inertia and the court’s moral death are juxtaposed by the frenzied movement. By purposeful design or feature, then, puppeteers control the direction and atmosphere of the ensuing action.

Special visual effects also heighten dramatic intensity even if they are not part of the frame. In "Suma Staroboda" ("The Ancient Forest"), the repeated image of shadow play depicting a stag and a snake intensifies the narrative drama of the woodsman overpowered by his snake/bride. The device highlights the play’s mythical properties as well. In "Heraklo," the neon lit backdrop changes color to suggest narrative action. It is a pure pale blue when Hercules is alone, but it turns a bright violet-red when the unsavory actions of the characters are revealed. The effect reproduces the black/red design of classical pottery when the puppets are turned into dark silhouettes against this neon light. The watersprites, wide-eyed and voluptuous, symbolize the enchantment and dangers of the river for the village men, and in "Dugonja, Trbonja, i Vidonja," the three ethereal narrators personify Grace and Order in sharp contrast to the hurley hurley atmosphere of the king’s palace or the Sinister aura of the ogre’s castle.

These examples emphasize the individuality of design. 240

Another common feature of Yugoslav puppetry, tight synchronization of

design and movement, reveals a different, socialist sensibility. The perfectly

choreographed interplay between color and dance, between waving scarfs of red,

white, and blue which form the Yugoslav flag and then spell out TITO, for

example, is a ubiquitous feature at many official ceremonies. A parallel technique

is found in some of the now dated puppet plays. The formal grouping of the

yellow placards in "Carobnyk iz Oza," the patterned umbrella dance in "Maus-i-ko

Maus-i-kan," and the synchronized "waltzes" of many amateur plays all represent

this sensibility. They stress discipline, uniformity, and lack of individuality, and, in

them, the blend of design and movement become ends in themselves.

On the other hand, when movement and details support the overall performance design and concept, they are well integrated into the fabric of the play. Set decor and motif can be active players in puppetry as well as decorative

designs. The painted backdrop of "Dugonja, Trbonja, i Vidonja" recreates a medieval Book of Hours. Here the celestial bodies, the stars, moon, and sun, move across the slty as the narrative action progresses, and thus the idea of

Natural Order or Greater Harmony is visibly, unwaveringly, apparent and counterbalances the narrative disorder and uncertainty. In "Armando in Joli," good fortune is represented by a rainbow and sun, the sunbursts frame an actor’s face and the rainbow, his outstretched, multicolored, cloaked arms. In both instances, symbols are a constant factor and foreshadow a return to harmony.

Parody and satire use gesture to produce similar effects. The reversal of traditional cat and mouse roles in Maribor’s "The King’s Cherries" alerts the audience to the capriciousness of life and foreshadows the themes of control. 241

Tyrant and victim are revealed in the relationship between the cat and mouse, first, and then through that of the King, Queen, and Councilor. The fame of the

ZKL’s "Od Zlata Jabuka" rests on the overall impressions created by the melange of gesture, symbol, and imagery. This peculiar blend makes the play hard to define. The performers told me:

It's choreography of whole piece that’s important.

It’s old bajka and it isn’t: it’s everything mixed up!

It is irony, satire, history, but nothing in is right, serious way but a burlesque of all.

Associations are suggested and implied but never linger long enough on stage to be anything more defined. The images themselves are complex; in contrast to the bare wooden peasant table that represents the traditional kuca in "Loptica

Hoptica" for example, the symbols are multilayered and fluid. On one level, the play is fi-amed by the tale of the firebird who steals fruit from the king’s prized tree, and on another, it recounts the master/subject relationship of the king and the sculptor, MestroviC. The apples become the Swiss notes the king has sequestered in a Zurich bank.

Overriding both levels is a fundamental question: "Does a man of culture have to work for the government or can he be free?" The king is a royal dictator, complete with black boots. These, in turn, are licked by the snake born out of the feces of the king’s monkey henchmen. The snake and apples bring to mind Sin and Corruption, and these are continually folded back into the action of the play.

When the archer hero, a marksman so skilled he can hit the eye of a fly at 100 meters, shoots the firebird, it turns into an old peasant woman. After he removes the arrow from her arm, they tumble into bed, one which appears instantaneously 242

out of nowhere when the main set, a royal buffet piled high with meats, pastries,

and fruits, flips over. It has the lightning speed of traditional shadow theater

mixed with burlesque comedy. Later, too, the king is transformed into a

blathering idiot when entwined by the lascivious, omnipresent snake, who, I was

told, was "sometimes an animal, sometimes the police." The resolution is an even

more madcap, blurred affair. The princess escapes the clutches of the homy

crocodile when she is freed by the archer; the crocodile then seduces a plump white hen who is caged by the king’s monkey men. Once again, the lavish buffet pops up before us. The king is ridden off the stage by a red devil, the prince and

the girl are crowned, and the captive hen lays a golden egg (or apple) for them.

The circle of lust, greed, sin, and cormption is complete, unending.

While few puppet plays are as colorful as "Od Zlata Jabuka" many are as

evocative and suggestive in milder ways. Verbal devices can be effective techniques, whether they are songs, sounds, or even silences. One popular use of

songs is as a refrain for an action or motif. These songs are simple and easily learned in the course of the play. In "Dugonja, Trbonja i Vidonja" the journey commences with such a melody; it soon becomes the hero’s theme song and a rousing rendition of it concludes the play as the hero wins kingdom and princess.

Another particularly effective use of music is to create a setting or define a time. Frequently the music is traditional. The melodies played with clay pipes in

"Martin Krpn" are old Slovene tunes. At other times, music is composed especially for a production. Edi Majaron’s score for "Zlatorog" adds dimension to the portrait of village women, their lilting chorus expresses their bonds of gender and fate, while the lone, mournful pipe tunes underscore the hero’s lost quest. 243

Folk music does more than set a scene, however. In the folk tale about a

Dalmatian fisherman, "UskoCka Kapa," the song Tma Jedna Gora" ("There is a

great mountain") serves as a landmark for the action and is repeated four times

throughout the play. The song was composed by a contemporary musician who

relied on the harmony and tunes that are a tradition of the coastal regions. In

Majaron’s earlier play, "Kraj Matiaz," based on a seventeenth century epic poem,

a triumphant fanfare gives way to the operatic score from "Don Quixote," and

both represent the noble character and quest of the hero. Thus, music and song

fulfill a number of purposes, ranging from juxtaposing or supporting narrative

action, representing an ideal or a character, punctuating movement, or

emotionally unifying various elements together.

Finally, language itself is one of the great resources of Yugoslav puppetry

and is maximized by the superb vocalizations of professional Yugoslav puppeteers.

In the classic contemporary play, "The Shoemaker and the Devil," language is used in a liturgical, highly ritualistic way. The effect is achieved by the simple words of the first narrator and the full repetition of them by the second narrator.

"Once upon a time, there was a shoemaker" (repeat) "He was very poor." (repeat) "He made shoes every day" (repeat) "And the family was very poor." (repeat)

Moreover, in this play such stylized dialogue augments the ritual movements of the elongated wooden puppets and the stark, black, white, and red colors which provide the central, symbolic design of the play. A contrasting effect is created by the very lewd talk of "Od Zlata Jabuka" whose carnal quality is articulated by verbal expression as well as gesture. Shock value is anticipated by double entendre and slang: one actor explained, "I have a speech that is kind of poetry. 244 folk poetry with eight lines, each with eight vowels. And at the end there is a rhyme that goes ‘ah, ah, ah,’ an allusion to sexual activity." Another time he explained that by the end of the play, suggestion was sufficient for the audience;

"The girl says to the king, ‘I don’t want to be yours, I belong to another.’ The archer says to her in rhyme, ‘I will take you, I will fuck you." But I pause before the last phrase and they think it and I don’t even have to say it."

Two of the most effective uses of sound or dialogue, though, occur in two of the ZKL’s "little forms." All Patkica, the dirty duck, needs to say is "Spa, spa, spa, spa" and the entire room bursts out laughing uncontrollably. He is at once blustery, foolish, brave, and loveable. Patkica also has a gift for taking a word, rolling it around the roof of his mouth six or seven times and spitting it out at us.

There is a subtle, anarchistic dimension to these verbal pyrotechnics and I think they contribute to children’s love for this animal. They are dangerous elements in an otherwise gentle domestic comedy. Dialogue provides much of the comic action and intimacy in "Jaje" also. The narrator pulls a small, shiny egg from his pocket, "Hey what’s this?" he ponders. "An egg!" shout the children. "Are you sure? Is it real or plastic?" he counters. "Plastic!" they shout in unison again. "Oh really..." (and he takes a big bite, delighted with his trick. Farther on, he comes to depend on them:

He: "Is it a dragon?" They: "No, no its only a klima" Klima: "Ja sam Ivica" He: "Whhhat, I am Ivica" Klima: "JA SAM IVICA." He: "Just a minute please. (Shaking with fear he puts his head in a huge pot). Klima: "My father was put in such a huge pot!" He: "OH!" (and pops his head out at once). 245

Sounds and dialogue are so well integrated into the consummate texture of these plays and appear effortless but are the result of fine tuning to the demands of the audience. They create an emotional energy that enriches the ritual properties of puppetry. Thus, while narrative form and structure supply these plays with their overall fi-ame, it is the special devices and their symbolic values which promote the meaning and quality of performances. Their cumulative significance expresses the puppeteers’ belief in and values of rich, emotional, and meaningful puppetry.

Such emphasis is more expressive than words alone.

Festival Activity

If such properties are the base components of puppetry’s ritual what then of puppetry’s activity outside the theater, out of performance? What is striking to an outsider is the involvement of puppetry, first, around its community, and, secondly, on an international level. My research suggests that the initial local relationships foster puppetry’s ritualistic components but that these surface even more prominently during festivals. Furthermore, in festivals community puppetry acquires a symbolic role. Both the ritualistic elements and symbolic role are later recharmeled back into puppetry in some way. Current plays are not created in a vacuum for children only; rather puppeteers are conscious of festival potential when they design new productions.

Elsewhere I examined the specific official and informal chaimels available to

Slovene and Croat puppetry by focusing on three in particular: the theater/state contract funding puppetry which implements socialist policy; the corollary theater/school arrangement which creates audience flow; and the social amateur/professional network in Slovenia especially. Each of these adds to the 246 momentum and scale of Yugoslav puppetry. Festivals activate cultural dynamics even more and, in addition, integrate another set of motivational factors and forces into the process. In festival activity, the dominant aesthetic, social, and political properties are spread out and then filtered into one or two choice entries.

The appetite for festival activity and ceremonies seems at times insatiable.

At least seven festivals occurred during my different visits, and I missed three or four other important puppet ones which were held just prior to my arrival or after

I had departed. Three of those I attended, the Sibenik Festival of the Child, the

Croatian Professional Puppetry Biannele, and PIF prominently showcased puppetry. Puppetry held a visible but minor role in other performance festivals, the Eurokacs Festival coordinated to coincide with the University Games, the

Zagreb Summer in the Parks activities, and the Croatian Amateur Theater

Festival. The extent of organization and bureaucracy of these festivals was formidable. Planning for the larger ones took two to three years and a full year was devoted to planning Sibenik and PIF. Equally impressive was the breadth of activity. This ranged from utilizing talent and space from all available resources, to coordinating corollary exhibits and events. Analysis of Yugoslav festivals is another study altogether: my interest here is in how they serve as expressions of puppetry’s structure, aesthetics, and social features.

Festivals are serious business for both organizers and participants in this region. Sponsorship and funding are provided through the official, state chaimels which subsidize other cultural activity. Numerous other levels of involvement intersect with that formal one, and the Sibenik festival provides one example of the collectivity of activity. The Jugoslavenski Festival Djeteta, or Festival of the 247 Child, has been held in the coastal town of Sibenik every June for the past thirty- two years. Over that course, Sibenik has matured from a small, provincial gathering of Croatian performers to an international event hosting performers from Europe and increasingly, Asia and the Americas. The goals of Sibenik are broad and encompass a demonstration of current productions for children, contributions to future performances and developments, creating bonds between diverse cultural agents, and working towards global harmony in the name of children. Above all, it underscores socialist idealization of youth. Tito, the festival’s "permanent patron" declared in 1979:

There can be no work nobler than that cormnitted to well being and happiness of children, not only in their country but in every corner of our planet. Concern for children, their protection and position in society is part and parcel of the struggle for progress, for better understanding and friendship among people, for the happiness and well-being of all nations.

In 1980, the Sibenik Festival was awarded Yugoslavia’s prized honor, the

Ordenom bratstva i jedinstva (Order of Brotherhood Unity with the Golden

Wreath).

The festival’s major domo and one time mayor of Sibenik, Drago PutnikoviC, stressed Sibenik’s humanitarian and international ideals: "culture has no frontiers." He was also deeply committed to fostering children’s creativity:

Very often we give too much advance direction; this process loses children’s own creativity and joy in their work. That is not our intent. That is why we have workshops to show children how to work, to let them work for themselves. And we usually choose as leaders practical artists who know how to work well with children.

In contrast, the Yugoslav Professional Puppetry Festival, held every two years in the town of Bugojno, is very much a professionals’ affair. Only the "best"

Yugoslav puppet plays are invited. The festival is organized and funded by the 248

host republic, Bosnia and Hercegovina, but each participant troupe is required to

pay for its own travel expenses. As in the Sibenik festival, these are usually

supplementary funds paid half by the troupe’s home city and half by its republic.

In comparison to more standard financial details, an invitation to attend is a

complicated, even complex procedure. Despite the claims of Sibenik officials that theirs is not a competitive festival, the selection process and performance schedule both hold numerous political edges. Selection is determined by a special panel, a group of about fifteen or sixteen cultural agents and artists who have been specially nominated by the Cultural Commission of their respective republics. In

1987-1988, the panel consisted of a member for each republic, four representatives from Sibenik town, and four additional from the host, the Cultural

Council of Croatia. According to one selector serving on the panel that year: "It is important to have a clear position on aesthetics and on what is appropriate for children."

But exactly what these visions and standards entail is not pre-established and may vary according to ethnic identity, historic tradition, even geographic locale.

The panel’s composition is also subject to the identity of its chairman. One ZKL puppeteer explained: "This year he was former director/manager of the puppet theater in Belgrade. He was chosen by the Republic of Croatia not by the festival and no Croatian plays were selected this year." Another ZKL member expressed a different interpretation:

The Sibenik festival is here for twenty years or longer. There are some who feel each performance should be perfect. They don’t respect those who don’t have too much experience. But it should not be so: we must let new people try. Sibenik needs new blood, new energy. It shouldn’t always be the same...

In addition, the festival organizers recently ruled that only six out of the nineteen 249

Yugoslav companies were eligible to perform in one year. Although it was not

stated, it appears as if this restriction was put in place in order to make room for

more foreign participants. Thus, while there are no prizes awarded at Sibenik,

the real competition precedes the festival itself.

Selection for Sibenik is clearly highly valued. Its status is even more

pronounced because of Sibenik’s increased international exposure. With its

demure coastal setting, its blend of ancient stone and contemporary art, its

informal cafes and performances, Sibenik holds great appeal for foreign guests.

Bugojno is explicitly both highly selective and competitive. Together, they are the

twin beacons of puppet activity for most Yugoslav performers.

Unlike Sibenik, the Croatian Professional Puppetry Festival held in Osijek in

April, 1987, had no clearcut goals and procedures. It is a more recently

inaugurated event and the sense was that the ground rules had not been firmly

established. One aspect of this was the housing problem that ensued. The

organizers had designated a different hotel to each theater company. This, I was

told, was a mistake because it inhibited the kind of socializing and networking which are key features of festivals. The puppet theaters needed to bond, one

informant stressed. Another puppeteer recounted how things had changed at PIF, when the ZKL puppeteers once refused to donate lights or even an iron for guests. A third recounted how there was a new emerging sense of camaraderie at the most recent major festival:

Before we make a big competition. At first we go sit by each other and watch, very serious. But we make a difference now and are changing that and now we go and one big festival altogether. You know, when another group won prize, that was our ZKL people who shout "Bravo" and we felt as if we had won. 250

While there may be newfound fellowship in festival activity it is not yet all encompassing. One of the most pressing complaints stemming from Puppet/Art

88 was rooted in the antagonism of puppeteers over what they saw as the showcasing of Slovene puppetry. Disregarding the fact that Slovene professionals had maintained a comprehensive film library which they could feature or that they had received external financial and organizational support in order to run the festival, there was a current of professional jealousy from the other companies who lacked the resources to promote their own works. Competition among national companies or within a company is also prevalent. As theaters become more ambitious and festival costs mount, tensions may rise within one company and the political reverberations abound for a while.

We brought the theater to twelve festivals lately and while this gives us exposure outside of Zagreb it also meant that the money spent at the festivals came at the expense of someone else and this didn’t promote good feelings from those within the theater who don’t travel and from those outside the theater, the other interests vying for money (Direktor, ZKL theater).

Such tensions appear to be less evident in Slovenia, where there are only two professional state theaters. There is, moreover, a healthy respect between amateurs and professionals that I outlined in Chapter V. In 1970, Tine Varl initiated a festival for amateur Slovene puppeteers. The group convened to establish goals and standards. Currently, these are admired by professional puppeteers and the well attended festival attracts nearly two dozen groups.

Finally, there is the indisputable fact that there are more state funds available for puppetry in Slovenia than elsewhere and that official funds are augmented by contributions from leading Slovene industries.

The Slovene cooperative spirit, which may stem from shared aesthetics and 251

ethnic solidarity, also signals changing values on the part of other Yugoslav

puppeteers. Performers are less willing to be typecast as one kind of puppeteer.

Versatility is now valued and the shift toward aligning technique and design to

concept, rather than vice versa, is already evident in Zagreb. International

festivals are instrumental in opening up new vistas, allowing Yugoslav puppeteers to observe different traditions and recent innovations in technique, style, and

atmosphere. Moreover, there are subtle benefits from the sheer flow of creative

energy generated by these festivals. They allow Yugoslav puppeteers to feel good about their profession, and criticism of peers provides them with a feedback they rarely see at home. To some extent, these festivals legitimize puppetry for

Yugoslav professionals who are worn down by mediocre pay, bureaucracy, and undefined status among other local artists.

Yugoslav festivals are themselves overburdened with bureaucracy. Planning is a drawn-out process: everyone must be consulted. Jury selection is one indication. The number of official sponsors and their speeches presiding at opening ceremonies is another. Formal chaimels must be maintained at every step. Yet in Osijek, when the symposium veered sharply away from the performances of the day to a diatribe against inadequate health benefits, one puppeteer asked rhetorically: "Where are all the politicos who gave speeches the first day when we really need them?"

The guiding presence of the state is seen from another angle in several ironic instances from the Pupteatra Internacia Festivalo (PIF) held every summer in

Zagreb. For ten years PIF had unsuccessfully attempted to gain funding from the government. It was run on a shoe-string budget as an extension of the 252

International Kultura Service (IKS) by a handful of Esperantists who sought ways

to exchange culture through Esperanto. (IKS itself is funded by the city of

Zagreb, the Republic of Croatia, and the Esperanto Organization of Croatia, but

it was not able to receive special funding for the PIF festival.) In 1977, a

Norwegian troupe visited PIF and later invited PIF to visit Tromago, a small

Norwegian village. The PIF Direktor explained why:

There is nothing there but seagulls and fish. They found a private plane to take me and a Hungarian shadow puppeteer to islands to perform. Afterwards I wrote an article for newspapers about it and the USIZ KULTURE called me up at once.

Political ears pricked up again later that year when PIF arranged for a Chinese puppet troupe to perform in Zagreb:

It was the first time a Chinese theater had come to Yugoslavia (our contacts were made through the Esperanto Organization). So people from USIZ realized we must have something special here at PIF. So then (they paid) for a tour of Yugoslavia with thirty Chinese behind me. The city of Peking paid for their travel and Yugoslavia for their rooms. And everyone came to PIF to see the Chinese.

By 1988, the state recognized the publicity and exchange generated by this modest festival and funded it with 80% of its budget, about one hundred million dinars

(old). Such experiences help explain the complex relationship between the art of festivals and the state.

At the same time, it is also clear that key social, artistic, and political factors converge in festivals and that very positive elements are crystallized as well.

Special features of Yugoslav festivals manifest the fundamental priority given to art and kultura. The bouquets of fresh flowers and the careful design of trophies are visible manifestations of this. On another level, the cultural value on education and the arts is evident in the workshops featured in all major Yugoslav 253

puppet festivals:

Children’s workshops are a very important element of our festival and we always ask leaders (of workshops) to provide an outline so we can publish it to use as a handbook in schools and pass it on. We don’t think what we offer is the only solution but it is one option (Yugoslav festival organizer).

Secondly, round table discussions are ubiquitous features which are held every two

or three days to critique the previous performances. These are well-attended,

serious affairs; so too are the aesthetic symposia which punctuate performances.

At Puppet/Art 88 a cadre of translators provided simultaneous translations of

these discussions into six languages to ensure foreign participation. Thirdly, the way festivals of all sizes work to integrate the event into the community indicates

a definite cultural mindset which sees the role of theater and festival as an

inclusive rather than exclusive affair. In Sibenik, local citizens and politicians serve on the selection panel and schoolchildren decorate the posters hanging from street posts and in the conference rooms. At Puppet/Art 88, co-operation and exhibits were provided by the Pedagogical Institute, the Ethnographic Museum, the Architectural Institute, the leading literary agency and bookstore, and the amateur puppeteers’ union. To some degree, this breadth of support strengthens community bonds and fosters mutual recognition between the performers and their community.

Above all, festivals are seen as vehicles expanding the framework rigidly imposed by a state cultural system. Puppeteers were both exposed to specific new techniques and to new orientations to puppet theater which emphasized individuality of expression. While the state theater system facilitated puppetry’s acceptance into mainstream cultural activity, the resultant institutional structure also narrowed the range of puppet art and created the highly stylized puppetry of 254 the past three decades. In Slovenia, the marionette technique is called "tradition" but it is a product of a narrow, if not closed, system. It is the aesthetic values, exemplified by the work of the KlemenCiC-Pengov-Majaron-Sitar-Papilu network, which is the tradition passed down from generation to generation. The festivals have provided some of the impetus for innovations. Professional theater in

Slovenia has ventured away from marionettes alone, and it can no longer be assumed, after "Lysistrata" and "The Wooden Duck," that Slovene "character" creates only the poetic and sublime.

In Zagreb, the paravan has come down. While rod puppets continue to be used, it is out of habit and because, practically, that is what the puppeteers are most familiar with. There is the growing sentiment that rods are easiest to manipulate and that they are, therefore, a sign of laziness and lack of expertise.

The last production I saw at the ZKL was a mock opera performance of Mozart’s

"Bastia i Bastien" done with string puppets. Before that there was a multimedia production of Arthur Miller’s "Death of a Salesman" using three-quarter size puppet figures. The Zagreb professionals, adept at what they do, saw that intimate and open (i.e. not concealed by the paravan) puppetiy was moving and artistically rewarding. They began to reassess their values as artists and as cultural agents. The scope and scale of their puppetry is no longer fixed; rather it is being molded play by play, according to criteria of individual need and artistic expression.

Final Assessments and Projections

By unwrapping the polished product of Yugoslav puppetry, it is possible to disassemble its parts and assess the process which developed it. It is a process 255

grounded in both a socio-political context and by contemporary cultural currents.

Cumulatively these factors, distilled from the dominant social, aesthetic, and

political values and practices of Yugoslav culture, have informed the standards,

dimensions, and character that we have defined as Slovene and Croat puppetry.

Moreover, the dynamic process enables puppetiy to channel some of these

elements, whether customary, traditional, or recent trends, back into the main

cultural frame. Ritual, both secular and religious, games, and folklore have long

been treated as cultural models by anthropologists; my intent here is less to define

puppetry as such a model but rather to interpret the point and process of

convergence between cultural ideals and custom and ongoing cultural activity.

The fundamental cultural frame takes on additional weight when it is

structured along ideological lines. In many ways, puppetiy was a perfect vehicle

with which to promote Tito's push for kultura. It both socialized young citizens

and reinforced the socialist ideals of what society could or should be. Ironically,

however, at the same time that it encouraged production and creativity, it also

sapped them because the system grew out of proportion to the art it was

facilitating. The image of the puppets of "Hamlet" with their decayed faces and useless mobility is a strong metaphor for what can happen when the system is overburdened and out of step. At the same time, the advantages gained from the relationship between art, community, and state, must be recognized. In

Yugoslavia, moreover, the good will and idealism of the policy was fundamentally benign: it was intended as a way to democratically bring culture to the people, to release art from the pockets of the elite. Through this, puppet theater left the salons in which it premiered in the 1920s and 1930s and entered the mainstream 256 community arena. It may well be that the institutionalization of puppetiy happened not so much within the theater walls but in the breadth of its practice, especially in Slovenia, where it has become closely woven into the cultural fabric.

What shape will this practice assume in the future? How will puppetry develop in the face of today’s economic, social, and political problems? Today

Yugoslavia’s own political status is in a liminal state: ethnic unrest, economic crisis, and political instability are threatening to fracture the federation. The puppetry I observed was clearly in a corollary state of transition and confusion of identity and leadership; in hindsight, its struggles foreshadowed the political, economic, and social difficulties the country is now grappling with. What is also clear is that as the direction of change for the puppet theaters of Zagreb and

Slovenia is towards expansion, other Yugoslav institutions (the creation of multi­ party elections in Croatia and Slovenia and the devaluation of the dinar now tied to the German mark, for example) may also be embarked in a similar direction.

Predicting the next phase of puppet theater - or political sovereignty - is futile at present, but assessing the patterns and practices likely to persist into that phase is not. One of the hallmarks of the puppetry I observed was the seriousness

(perhaps the passion the critic Zecevic identifies) of the performers. The level of quality, distinguishing design, training, and even the printing of the programs and posters, and the level of commitment extending in different directions, across the continuum of society, are highly representative of this over-riding seriousness of intent and purpose. One puppeteer succinctly explained the totality of such an attitude:

You must have a kind of thinking, a level of emotional contact with children. We must try collectively as director, performer, designer, lighting technician. 257

and musician to do this and lutaka is the whole art of putting that all together (Croatian professional puppeteer).

Idealism is one element of this attitude and the idea that it is a collective, group process is another. Both are important to consider in the scope of the kultura

movement at large. One cultural leader commented:

What I would like to stress as most important is that the attitude for society has changed... for the good. Today we have more young people traveling, more funds for children and children’s needs: we have more theaters for children and we have more journalists and artists writing and making it all. It was not like that before (Croatian cultural organizer).

A second major factor in shaping puppetry’s direction is the increasing fluidity of cultural borders. Yugoslav puppeteers point out their early involvement in

UNIMA, and, although they are just now entering the international scene, they perennially maintained ties with neighboring theaters in central Europe. Festivals have intensified puppeteers’ artistic networking. Puppetry is an intrinsically organic art form in itself and it thrives on contacts and change. What has changed recently is that these informal contacts are being formally charmeled and evolving into permanent features of Yugoslav puppetry. Within the past twenty years a sort of pan-European common puppetry market has been evolving and with its festivals, Yugoslavian puppetry is throwing its hat into that ring. Festivals build upon and strengthen pre-existing ties across national borders. A new twist is, however, that Yugoslav puppeteers are being seen - and see themselves - as co-equals rather than junior partners or apprentices. Such perceptions lie at the back of the statement by a UNIMA official that Yugoslav puppetry was having a

"renaissance."

Thirdly, and in conjunction with that, the role of the individual artist/broker is being revised. For thirty years these key players defined the ZKL style. 258 culminating in the formal abstraction of Deiilic which distanced the puppet from the audience. Another way of looking at this style, though, is to regard it as one route to the kind of parallel distancing of theater of alienation among the avant garde theaters in Europe. Deîilié, working within the narrow confines of a state institution, worked inwardly and the artist/brokers of that era worked within a restricted social space. In contrast, the artist/brokers at work today are turned outward and are involved in keeping pace with the cultural pulse of Europe.

Whether in Zagreb or Ljubljana, Covic, Stimec, and Majaron are new agents of just not their theater and their community, but increasingly, between their theater/town and other international theaters.

Several important patterns and symbols are emerging from these elements.

The "political" ramifications are nebulous but nonetheless surface from time to time. I use political here in Cohen’s sense, as encompassing the economic realm as well. Festivals are costly and most require theaters to pay their own way.

Consequently puppeteers are paring down the scale of their performances in order to be able to afford to attend. The remainder of the corps of players who do not travel is dissatisfied with this trend. Thus, while most performers bask in the gloiy of festivals they also grumble about "elitism." Festival activity thus can be a divisive as well as a unifying factor.

Thus for artistic and practical reasons, "little forms" are becoming the plays of choice. Puppeteers enjoy the intimacy and audience contact they engender.

But they are mindful that they are financially lucrative as well: modest to produce, they allow several different performances to take place around town simultaneously and still keep the theater stage available. Moreover, "little forms" 259 exemplify the shift towards texture rather than text. Dialogue is diminished, gesture and symbol grow more prominent. Two festival winners, "Jaje" and "Od

Zlata Jabuka" (which is not a little form) have the same capability of communication through texture, through interweaving of design, sounds, gestures, music, and theme.

Examining these developments further reveals even more significant thematic and symbolic changes. One of the most significant of these indicates that the attitude towards social order has altered (as presented in puppetry). In the early classic puppet plays social order was represented by the family. The relationship of the child to that unit was an unequal, hierarchical one. Current plays present far less tidily structured social relationships. Peers, not parent/child pairs, appear on stage: the clown and dog in "Armando in Joli" are essentially comrades alone in the world; Ivica and the soon-to-be Franjo have a similar, disparate in size, but equal in heart, relationship. Furthermore, this changing thematic emphasis underscores a broader change in the theater’s orientation. Children are not talked îo or told what is good, but puppeteers instead, try to guide children to actively, creatively sort things out for themselves. This orientation is manifest in the current performance values which encourage audience participation, which intensifies ritual elements, and which shows a new respect for the children of the audience.

Not dissimilarly, there is a decided shift in the portrayal of authority. In classic plays authority figures are benign or omniscient: Grandfather Moon, the tiger elders, and the prince of "Kraj Mattiaz" are just a few examples. Authority figures today are either taken less seriously or portrayed in a less favorable light. 260

The king in "Dugonja, Trbonja i Vidonja" is purposefully presented as a fool;

drunk or sober, awake or snoring away, he is seen as ineffective, perhaps even

potentially dangerous. Even Auntie Griselda in "Saprami§ka" is more of a

caricature of the perennially bustling matron, and I doubt whether children see

her as anything more serious.

There is even less comic fun in puppetry designed for older children: here

there is no ambiguity about the danger of the authority figures. The ruler and his

court in "Heraklo" are portrayed as malevolent and ultimately destructive. The persistent buzz of the pestilent flies is a striking metaphor in "The King’s

Cherries," the true nature and duplicity of the Queen and the Councilor are revealed by their identical militaristic shapes. The faces of all the characters,

even Fortinbras who is supposed to redeem Elsinore Court, are blackened with spiritual decay. The entire concept of power and authority is also challenged in

"Lysistrata" where the women, supposedly acting for peace, are portrayed as sadistic masters over the men (actresses lording over male puppets). Finally, the monarch in "Od Zlata Jabuka" is presented as a classic dictator but the punch comes when, as in "Hamlet," the new order assumes the same characteristics.

Under such heavy authority systems, these plays seem to be saying, there is no happy ending. These contribute, moreover, to the new wave of Yugoslav morality plays. They are unearthing the political element which has covertly structured puppet theater and orientation for thirty-five years. Puppetry no longer idealizes society, rather it is engaged in pointed commentary against the very system which develops it. At the same time, the individual is being promoted, even in puppetry for the very young children, and this orientation similarly strikes out against and 261 undermines collective, democratized "socialism."

On numerous levels and in diverse ways, Yugoslav puppetry is in the midst of transition. In some cases, the changes of theme, style, form, and orientation have created something of an identity crisis because, despite these internal shifts, the external structure remains unchanged. Yugoslav puppeteers have been forced to re-examine their priorities, tighten up some lax standards, and take a competitive look around the international arena. Puppetiy in Zagreb and

Slovenia is now, more than in the past ten or twenty years, more involved in richer, ritual performances. Aesthetic standards have been maintained, and, some might argue, raised. The artistic and social stretching of puppetiy has rendered it more elastic and, perhaps, even more resilient.

Equally significant is how these specific artistic changes correspond to the deeper political ones altering Slovenia and Croatia today. Both are evidence of outer-directed movement and a decidedly expansive cultural orientation. Slovenia and Croatia are steadfastly advancing toward a Western system of social democracy and free market economy and continue to outdistance their sister republics in constitutional reform and in restructuring their basic ideological frame. Such parallels are timely and informative. A corollary relationship occurred a generation earlier during the course of the major constitutional reforms and political trends of the 1960s outlined by Bridge (1975) and Lang

(1975). In 1963, a new progressive journal, Praexis. was launched in Zagreb and provided a voice of liberal non-Marxist as well as Marxist thought. Echoing Djilas who had denounced Marxist art a decade before in A New Class. Praexis labeled socialist mass culture as anti-individualistic, anti-creative, and, ultimately, as anti- 262 evolutionary. According to one critic, Marxists rejected modern, abstract art because it is "... nonconformist; its subject is the contemporary drama of human alienation, which the apologetic, quasi art of socialism cannot accept" and because it does not recognize "... those who want to transform art into the handmaiden of politics" (Blumenfeld 1968:225-226).

The effects of the Praexis philosophy and its ideal of a liberated cultural environment is directly seen in the Slovene "little forms" and the puppet plays of

Puntar and Makarovic among others. Over a decade later, it is now reflected in the ZKL’s adoption of "little forms" and the work encouraged by Covié, Bourek and younger rezija. Such thought and artistic evolution sets Slovene and Croat culture apart from the standardized art expected of an earlier generation or representative of other closed, centralized East European communist states.

Turner views such systems as, not unlike tribal societies, fundamentally providing conformity and prescribed mass symbolism which purposefull limits the range or opportunity for individual expression (1982:52). He terms their transitional state as "liminal" and, in comparison, refers to the transitional state of complex, modern societies as "liminoid" (1982:53-54). If "liminal" states are mass directed;

"liminoid" states are individualistic, idiosyncratic, and more likely to use symbols

(such as inversion or reversal which reveal "anti-structure") as social commentary.

In short, liminoid states are "plural, fragmentary, and experimental in character."

He concludes that while "In complex industrial societies both types coexist in a sort of cultural plurality... for most people the liminoid is still felt to be freer than the liminal, a matter of choice, not obligation" (1982:55). In contemporary

Slovene and, more recently, Croat puppetry I perceive a greater manifestation of 263 choice and individuality over conformity and obligation.

At the same time, the future of state institutions such as puppet theater remains unclear. What is apparent is that, to Yugoslavians, puppetry has itself come to symbolize nationalism, and, in the case of Slovenia, ethnic culture. I can surmise only that while the formal system may change, the fundamental practice and process of the relationship between puppet art and community may be sustained. In 1992, Yugoslavia is hosting the next UNIMA Congress in Ljubljana.

The festival will provide another opportunity for assessment of the new directions of Yugoslav puppetry and, on a larger scale, the course of Yugoslav cultural policy. Clearly contemporary artists and theaters are looking beyond ethnic and national borders for criticism and inspiration. Still, most puppeteers, while energized by these prospects, are committed to preserving a sense of who they are as Slovene and Croat performers, and it will be interesting to see how they synthesize their own cultural history with this continually expanding source of ideas, styles, and materials. GLOSSARY OF YUGOSLAV PUPPET PLAYS

AMATEUR CROAT PLAYS

Theater or Company Plays

Dubrava KazaliSte Djece: Ba§-Celik Jaje HarambaSa Patkica Èuma Striborova

KVAK: HÔCU Biti Brljiban (I Want To Be A Chatterer)

Lutkobus: Zlatica sed molatica (Flower Power) Lijena Prica i Jos Svasta

Marijana Jelasac: Bulululo

Nadia: Briar Rose

Vanda Sestak: Galaksija II (Galaxy II) Night of the Shadows

PROFESSIONAL CROAT PLAYS

Theater or Company Plays

The ZagrebaCko KazaliSte Lutaka: Bastia i Bastien Dugonja, Trbonja i Vidonja (The Tall, the Short, and the Allseeing) Cactus Story (a Western) Carobnyk iz Oza (The Wizard of Oz) Heraklo (Hercules) Grga (A Partisan Story) Jaje (The Egg) Loptica Hoptica (Little Striped Bouncing Ball) Madrac (Mattress) Minica (Thumbelina)

264 265

PROFESSIONAL CROAT PLAYS

Theater or Company Plays

The ZagrebaCko KazaliSte Lutaka: Od Zlata Jabuka (About the Golden Apple) Patkica Blatkica (Dirty Duckie) Prince and the Pauper Postolar i Vrag (The Shoemaker and the Devil) Snow White Death of a Salesman Sion u Gradu (An Elephant in Town) Slovarica (Alphabet Soup) Teofraus (The Gossipping) Tigrié (Little Tiger) Univerijada (University Game Day) Zyjezdica Pospanka (Sleepy Little Star) Uscocka Kapa (The Tale of the Uscok Fighters)

OTHER CROAT PLAYS:

Theater or Company Plays

Gavella Theater: Gran Spectacle (The Big Spectacle)

KazaliSte Tresnja: Doktor Faust

KazaliSte Zadar: The Tin Soldier

Kazali§te Split: Sion U Redu (How the Elephant Got Its Nose)

Theater ITD (Zagreb): Hamlet

Zar Ptica (Zagreb): The Blue Bird 266

AMATEUR AND FREELANCE SLOVENE PLAYS:

Rezija Plays

Papilu DjevojCica sa Sibicama (The Matchgirl) Sitar Faust Majaron Kraj Matiaz (King Mattias) Papilu Potep (The Three Bears) Majaron Pegam in Lumberger Majaron Red Riding Hood Sitar The Wooden Duck Varl The Woodsman and the Watersprites Majaron Zlatorog

PROFESSIONAL SLOVENE PUPPET PLAYS:

Theater or Company Plays

The Ljubljana Gledali§Ce Lutkovno: The Bride’s Dead Lover Baiku u Czar Sultan (The Legend of the Czar Sultan) Kaj Mora Sovo (What the Owl Says...) Lysistrata Loptica Hoptica (Little Striped Bouncing Ball) Jajce (The Egg) Mi Kosoviri (My Kosoviri) Ostr2ek (Pinocchio) SapramiSka (Super Mouse) Zvesdica Zaspanka (Sleepy Little Star)

Lutkovno GledaliSCe Maribor: Armando in Joli (Armando and Joli) Baijku u Kraj Tresnija (The Tale of the King’s Cherries) 267

MISCELLANEOUS YUGOSLAV PUPPET PLAYS:

Theater or Company Plavs

Malo PozoriSte DuSko Radovié (Belgrade) The King’s Singers

Infanteatro Subotica: Apolodor

Ljubljana Student GledaliSCe: Alicia (Alice in Wonderland)

DjeCje PozoriSte Banja Luka: BaS-Celik

Narodno PozoriSte: Tosa Jovanovic

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