Juggler’s World

CARTER BROWN AND LAZER VAUDEVILLE

KEEP

ON ROLLING

By Cindy Marvell

Somewhere along the Continental Divide, under a backdrop of orange skies and blue mountains, a 16-foot box truck weaves its way through the terrain. The unassuming white truck contains 28 road cases, a bunk complete with mattress and sleeping bags, a coffee maker, three vaudevillians, and a dog named Roxy. The show, Lazer Vaudeville, is now in its seventh year of touring, and has crossed this mountain range seven times in various configurations since September.

The current cast is comprised of founder Carter Brown, Randy Johnson and Cindy Marvell, who collectively share the driving, juggling and everything else the show entails. As the truck rumbles along to the next show, Brown wakes up from his brief nap to cast a glance at the speedometer.

“Floor it,” he advises, adjusting his makeshift pillow, “and keep it floored.” Marvell complies, and the truck picks up speed around the curve. As the leader of a national, sometimes international, touring company, Brown does not get much sleep these days. “You constantly have to balance what you have to do to keep the books balanced with what you have to do to keep yourself artistically satisfied,” says Brown of the many responsibilities involved in running the show. As a juggler, he tries not to become consumed by the endless bureacracy involved in presenting more than 150 theater shows a year.

Though he initially focused on developing his solo act, it was Brown‘s ambition to perform a well-rounded show with a theatrical bent. Since its formation in 1987, Lazer Vaudeville has been committed to combining traditional skills with new technologies and original modes of presentation.

“When I started the show, I was fed up with the lack of creativity in circus acts and vaudeville in general,” Brown recalls, “I really wanted to see it combined with the lighting effects and technology of the 90‘s.”

Brown‘s is an intense personality, full of energy, humor and mystery. And the show follows suit. With a mixture of laser beams displays, blacklight puppetry, acrobatics, clowning, and state -of-the-art juggling routines, the show is quite a handful for both audience and performers. It takes 5-7 hours to unload, set up and “tech’ the show, not to mention warming up. Obviously it takes more than the usual obsession with juggling and performing to engage in such an enterprise. One must be obsessed with many things and somehow deep track of them all.

So, how did the insanity begin?

Brown was born into a theatrical family. His father worked as a set designer and stage manager, his mother an actress and dancer. As a hyperactive child growing up in New York, Brown was encouraged to channel his excessive energy into dance, gymnastics, mime and acting classes. As the age of eight he started performing in local plays and musicals. At 12 his family moved to Vermont, where Brown later attended the University of Vermont with a double major in theater and art. He has fond memories of “The Silent Company,” the university‘s mime troupe, which he eventually ended up directing. As a new member, he was required to learn the basics of juggling, and after that things were never quite the same.

After two years, Brown kept a journal as he hiked the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine. Approaching the end, he received a notice notifying him of his acceptance to Ringling Brothers Clown College. “Since I left the University, I have no back-up, and that compels me to succeed in show business,” Brown claims. “Either that, or go back-packing.”

Brown did graduate from Clown College, however, and toured with Ringling for two years. It was during this time that he began to develop his bicycle hoop rolling act, which has since won him international renown. “When I was in clown college, John Fox came over and put a set of hoops in my hands that had once belonged to Kit Summers. Soon after I met Homer Stack, who sold me my first set.”

While on tour Brown snatched all the practice time he could between shows, arriving early in the arena and staying late. Passing through Miami, he met Dick Franco, who gave him some lasting advice. “I was working on all kinds of props, but Dick told me to drop everything but the hoops. He predicted there would be a big market for it now that hoop jugglers have become so rare, and that I would find my niche if I stuck to it.”

After two years at Ringling, Brown settled in Boulder for a time, practicing with Airjazz and working the streets on weekends. During the week, he practiced the hoop act for 12 hours a day. The incessant practice paid off, and Brown started receiving offers to perform his solo act indoors. He toured with Carden International Circus for four years, while also performing solo in South America, Canada and Japan.

While working at Carden, he became interested in the technical aspects of the show and was hired to run sound in addition to his performing duties. When the light man left the show, Brown took over that job as well-experience that would prove essential when it came to directing Lazer Vaudeville.

Brown may be unique among jugglers in the Western Hemisphere in that he has never in his life attended a juggling convention, not even a tiny one. A planned excursion to Burlington was unfortunately usurped by business concerns. “I‘m really curious as to what it‘s like and why people do it,” he wonders, “but hopefully some day I‘ll find out.”

In 1992, Brown was invited to perform his hoop act at the prestigious Monte Carlo Festival, one of the high points of his solo career. “It was an honor to be invited, but I was a bit disappointed by the set-up,” Brown recalls. “The juggling was perfect-no drops-but the floor was not ideal for rolling.”

Though the quest for the perfect hoop-rolling surface is part of what motivates Brown to pursue a theatrical career, he also delights in giving audiences a will- rounded theater experience.

“Over a two-hour show you really get to know the audience and they get to know you. People come to the theater to respond to a performer‘s ideas, no just to see a Vegas act.” As if in tribute to his clowning days, Brown takes a pie in the face at the end of his “Dueling Straitjackets” routine. “Once or twice a year I get to pie the volunteer-if they‘re really asking for it,” he says with a devilish grin. Brown and Johnson also perform an acrobatic routine, complete with table slides and all the slapstick trimmings, reminiscent of their Ringling days.

As a 14-year-old, Johnson watched Brown practicing by the side of the ring in Chicago, and this encounter inspired him to continue his pursuit of the circus arts. Already a veteran of the Windy City Circus, which he joined at age 10, Johnson went on the study acting as a teenager at the Chicago Academy of the Arts. Now in his second year with Lazer Vaudeville, Johnson brings his inimitable comedic flair to the show, and his long arms and dependable hands help to hold the ensemble pieces together. With extensive set design credits in the Chicago television industry, he is also master prop builder, creating many of the unique props, tables, and road cases essential to the show.

A Juggler‘s World article quotes Brown as saying, “It‘s great to wake up and see the countryside rolling by,” and the troupe often drives overnight after a show to make the next date. The 1994-5 season has seen shows from upstate New York to Port Angeles, Wash. Last year the company played to sold-out houses and rave reviews at the Bermuda Theatre Festival, and is hoping for more international dates in the future. In May the company will spend a week performing at a theater festival in British Columbia, in August a week in Hong Kong. “We‘re hoping to tie in some bookings in Hawaii or the Philippines on our way back,” Brown explains between phone calls.

In order to deep the logistics in order and the show booked for nine months of the year, Brown maintains a business office at his house in Ocala, Fla., near Orlando. The 102-year-old Victorian house is in the process of renovation, and Brown and Johnson have done much of the rewiring and drywalling themselves. Even Marvell has been known to pitch in with a staple gun or mop. In addition to prop and costume shops, the ground floor includes the all- important rehearsal studio. “If only the ceiling were six inches higher,” Marvell laments, “it would be perfect.”

In conjunction with the theater tour, Lazer Vaudeville produces an Arts-in- Education outreach program designed to bring live performances to the schools. Johnson always begins the presentation with a short lecture on the history of vaudeville in America, a new concept to most television-saturated students. “When we‘re on the road, the school shows give us a chance to stay in practice and try out new material in a more informal setting. And many of the students bring their parents to the local theater show, so ultimately we benefit from it as much as the schools we serve,” Brown comments.

“Many people are drawn to the show because of the lasers and blacklight effects, but in the end they remember the live performances,” says Marvell. “Especially for the kids, it‘s still the human touch that counts.”

“And the lasers and special effects do help keep us off the streets and in the theaters,” Brown adds with a wink. “It‘s all part of our carefully thought-out marketing strategy.”

Recent political measures to cut funding for the arts are worrisome, but at the same time many old vaudeville theaters around the country are being renovated and there seems to be renewed interest in filling them. Lazer Vaudeville often arrives at a historically restored theater to find that they are the first vaudevillians to play there since the 1930s or 40s. When Brown discovers some momento of an old vaudevillian‘s presence-some call-board or prop stand-the event elicits as much excitement from his eyes as the show itself. It is proof positive that Brown is living his dream while inspiring dreams in others.

“Life is short-I really can‘t say how long I‘ll be doing this,” Brown muses over a cup of espresso at a midnight truck stop. “Mount Everest still looms, but right now all I want is more bookings, more cool stuff in the show, more good coffee and my own Galaxy-class star ship to tour the universe.”

CARMINA BURANA

Ars Nova Singers and Frequent Flyers Productions

Music and mythology do not meet single point trapeze and aerial fabric very often–or is that, orffen? Carl Orff composed Carmina Burana as an oratorio, and the Ars Nova Singers specialize in performing ancient and modern music. Children can experience Orff’s legacy by pounding out rhythms on various xylophones as part of the music theory course named for the composer. Since Orff invented this curriculum to involve others in the magic of music making, he likely would have reveled in the conglomeration of airborne contortion and whirling cartwheels presented by Frequent Flyers Productions and the Ars Nova Singers at the University of Colorado in Boulder.

Nancy Smith, Frequent Flyers’ founder and artistic director, describes this manic opus in which Cupid, Pan, Bacchus, Helen of Troy, and Venus appear as “a unique marriage of live music and aerial dance,” and according to most members of the 1,200-plus standing-ovation crowd, it was indeed. Rather than telling the direct story of the lyrics, Smith explains that the choreography aims to capture in a more poetic manner the themes of the text, moving from fortune, to spring, to the tavern, to love, and back to fortune again. Sounds like everyone gets paid in advance, and again at the end! Actually, the fortune represented in the first section, O Fortuna, refers to fate.

In the words of the Chorus, “Fate – monstrous and empty, you whirling wheel, you are malevolent” – popcorn, anyone? There is no need for popcorn in this packed presentation in which one image leads seamlessly into the next, and a detailed program guides viewers through the words of the chorus, sung simultaneously by the Ars Nova Singers, with about 100 singers and musicians lining the orchestra pit. To add to the complexity, each segment is inspired by the choreographic ideas of Smith’s different collaborators, all of whom perform in the piece.

Appropriately, as O Fortuna centers around the Wheel of Fortune, the aerial dance revolves around an turning wheel, also called “The Rack,” a metallic apparatus made up of an X inside a square that rotates parallel to the stage. When draped with fabric, said Rack transforms into “The Chandelier.” Jennifer Vierow, who has performed with FFP for over 8 years, spun the sequencing for the turning wheel. The dancers hover just above the floor as they hang in creative configurations. Company members Darden Longenecker and Philip Flickinger lead off the turning wheel quartet with a dancerly duo. Nicole Predki, who also dances with Fred Benjamin Dance Company and Interweave Dance Theater teams with Kim Townsend and Angela Delsanter in the wheel’s myriad pyramids and shadowy spirals. Joshua Fink, an accomplished mover and shaker, lifts Longenecker onto the wheel to portray the role of the virgin.

Longenecker credits the choral conductor Thomas Morgan with supporting the performers in their understanding of the music and their desire to transform it to flight. Earlier in the evening, Morgan led the chorus in a rendition of modern composer Eric Whitacre’s “Leonardo Dreams of His Flying Machine.” These preceding images continue to float through the viewer’s brain as Carmina unfolds its majesties on high. Flickinger descends in the form of Cupid, engaging Longenecker in a spirited contact duo. Longenecker works the double red fabric upsidedown in a split hang, then slides down with ace vaudevillian timing.

Nancy Smith worked in a smooth solo on the single-point trapeze, wearing white accordion pants and swaying elastically with her signature style. Human elasticity becomes materialized as red fabric is stretched across the stage and pulled over human forms a la Graham. A furry Pan steals the dancer’s pants, leaving them in what appears to be 40s-style underwear. Longenecker, who contributed to the choreography in this section (Promo Vere, or Spring) calls these outfits “boy shorts.” The passionate choreography that follows she dubs “the hot pants revelation.”

The Round Dance, or Reie, is led by Smith on the single-point trapeze. Longenecker explained that the work was inspired by low-flying trapeze artist Terry Sendgraff. The imagery and apparatus resemble a Maypole, but one in which “Those who go round and round are all maidens, they want to do without a man all summer long,” a tidbit the program’s author, Michael Moore, refers to as “medieval reverse psychology.” Sure enough, along comes Eleanor of Aquitaine in the next chorus. A Christ Hang and a straddle back balance seem appropriate illustrations of England’s most fiery queen, the one who put on men’s clothing and joined the crusades, provoking a papal bull forbidding anything like that from ever happening again.

After the intermission, the action resumes with In Taberna, the tavern section. As four rope-and-harness cords and a Spanish Web are lowered from the ceiling, Longenecker descends as a medieval character described as the Archpoet. The words translate: “Burning inside with violent anger, bitterly I speak to my heart” – cotton candy, anyone? Of course, with Longenecker on Web the effect of cotton candy was naturally created as she spun her way to spontaneous applause from the massive audience. To wind down, Smith and Longenecker create a dramatic death effect at the end of the program, scaling double red and white fabric as the opening theme returns.

Flickinger and Fink come together for a Bacchanalian revel where ballet, jazz and modern dance combine with lighthearted antics. Andrea Deline, a New York dancer who has worked as a principle with the Boulder Ballet and currently performs with the Denver company 7Dancers, holds sway in this character-driven charade, appearing as a barefoot ballerina. Wine barrels balance on low trapeze rods as the drunken ensemble performs feats of balance sprinkled with pierrotesque pirouettes. The original apparatus was created at a local welding shop.

The lighting enhanced the performance without overshadowing it. J P Osnes, a longtime designer and director in Colorado, kept the audience intrigued throughout the oratorio’s many atmospheric changes. Overall, the performance, music and text were so rich in detail that they cannot possibly be captured in brief. To remedy this, Frequent Flyers and the Ars Nova Singers will have to perform Carmina Burana again at their earliest convenience.

Nancy Smith, based at the Dairy Center for the Arts in Boulder, teaches low-flying trapeze and releasing technique. Smith has roots in New Orleans, and her piece “Can these bones live-O Ye Dry Bones,” dedicated to the victims of Hurricane Katrina, opened the program. Smith also organizes FFP’s Aerial Dance Festival, which will take place at the Dairy, the University of Colorado, and the Boulder Circus Center, August 6-18, 2006. To find out more, check www.frequentflyers.org; tel. 303-245-8272.

Cindy Marvell, July 2006

The New York Times

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1999

THEATER

AIR THAT’S NOT SO THIN, AND CIRCUS ARTS WITH A HEART

By CINDY MARVELL

The vaudeville and circus arts will converge in New Jersey this month, with performances by Fred Garbo‘s Inflatable Theater Company and Cirque Eloize. After sold- out runs at the New Victory Theater in Manhattan, both troupes are ready to go out on their limbs in their pursuit of the dazzling, the eccentric, and the unexpected.

Imagine a cross between Woody Allen‘s flying machine in ”Sleeper‘‘ and the balloons in Macy‘s Thanksgiving Day parade, and you have some idea of inflatable theater. ”We like to blow up everything in the garage and laugh at inflation,‘‘ Mr. Garbo proclaimed from his home in Norway, Me.

Though capable of solo flight, his inflat ables more often than not have humans inside. His partner, Daielma Santos, is a Brazilian ballerina who trained at the Royal Academy of Dance in London. Together, they toss, dance and cavort inside and around creations ranging from giant cubes that unexpectedly sprout limbs to a full-length evening dress that adorns the elegant Ms. Santos. Then, of course, there is the beloved monstrosity Fred Zeplin, Mr. Garbo‘s inflated alter ego.

The spectacle of an overblown orange-and-purple man attempting dive rolls and cartwheels, performing handstands on a chair and imitating break dancers has been known to leave audiences gasping for air. ”People guess wrong if they think this is primarily for kids,‘‘ Mr. Garbo (originally Garver) said in a telephone interview.

For Ms. Santos, a frequent guest principal dancer and choreographer with the Portland Ballet in Maine, the chance to work with inflatables offered comic relief. ”I saw Fred bouncing around in the inflatable suit,‘‘ she said, ”and I thought: ‘Forget this pas de bouree stuff. I want to do something fun.’ ‘‘

Mr. Garbo‘s mixed bag of talents, from dance to circus arts, have landed him such diverse opportunities as a role on Broadway in the musical ”Barnum‘‘ and a guest spot in Moses Pendleton‘s dance company, Momix. After six years of collaborating with Bob Berky and Michael Moschen in the international touring show ”Foolsfire,‘‘ followed by eight years as Barkley the dog on ”Sesame Street,‘‘ Mr. Garbo decided it was time to broaden his horizons, and his costumes. The idea for the inflatable man began as a stage set designed by George York, who has created about 50 inflatables for Mr. Garbo over the last 10 years.

”It‘s a real acting job to get the characters across in a big bag,‘‘ Mr. Garbo said. ”It‘s like a very large mask that transforms into a living cartoon.‘‘

In rehearsal, Mr. Garbo and Ms. Santos use walkie-talkies to direct the action, but onstage they are on their own. By the end of the show, an entire household of inflatables has appeared. Yet the audience invariably shouts, ”More!‘‘

Mr. Garbo is negotiating with Kenneth Feld, director of Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey Circus, who envisions an inflatable circus.”I always say were big people with a big show, but the circus is gigantic,‘‘ Mr. Garbo said. ”I might as well be in on the ground floor as a consultant.‘‘

SINCE Cirque Eloize made its New York debut three years ago, the troupe has changed its tone, but stunning physical skills and intimate clowning still dominate the show.

”Excentricus,‘‘ billed as ”a festival for the eyes, the ears and the heart,‘‘ expands the troupe‘s tradition of eccentric circus theater and humor.

Born in Quebec in 1993, the troupe sizzles with youthful energy and elan. A tour of Europe inspired changes in lighting, music, costuming and plot. ”The performers had the chance to work with a new director, Claudette Morin, and explore their individual characters,‘‘ said John Lambert, a former Cirque du Soleil clown who now manages Eloize. ”We have new clowns, and the atmosphere is more varied, more European in style.”

On a recent French tour, the Canadians performed 22 shows in five weeks, and their new production might be set in a smoky French cafe. It begins with a dimly lighted band, led by Lucie Cauchon, accompanying a languid figure stretched out on a trapeze above the stage, and continues with a mixture of whimsical choreography, passionate artistry and physical dexterity. Throughout the 90-minute performance, set to original music by Denis Hebert and Eric Bernard, bodies master apparatus with savoir-faire.

Jeannot Pinchard, a co-founder of Eloize, weaves his way through the entire production with his Felliniesque bicycle act. His fellow founder, Daniel Cyr, turns a freestanding ladder, typically used as a mere climbing post, into an athletic meditation of unprecedented variety. Somersaulting between the ladder‘s rungs and balancing at the top like a seal, he displays superhuman strength combined with a graceful yearning.

Marc Gauthier, a rope climber, commands the audience‘s attention as acrobats cavort beneath him. Shana Carroll, who is to join Cirque du Soleil‘s Australian unit next season, plays the winsome trapeze sprite; in a rhythmical, seductive solo (sometimes played by Marie-Eve Tumais), she opens the program with an aerial dance on the still trapeze. Sometimes staccato, sometime lyrical, she twists and winds herself around the bar with masterly control and minimal effort.

Early on, Mr. Pinchard takes a comical turn as he sets up a tumbling mat. Subsequent feats include a mini-trampoline sequence, hand-to-hand balancing and contortions, and a Chinese-style group balance atop a moving bicycle.

The troupe‘s five original members take the stage for a rare 15-club juggling act. Patterns, rather than tricks, dominate ensemble juggling, and the Eloize juggers use their acrobatic skills to create unusual formations, like three-man towers feeding clubs back and forth.

One of the jugglers, Jamie Adkins, is also the troupe‘s newest clown (and its lone United States citizen). A veteran of the Pickle Family Circus from San Francisco, Mr. Adkins performs a slack-wire solo and joins in the juggling and acrobatic numbers. Though performed to music, the solo is more character than choreography.

”It‘s hard to be graceful on the slack-wire because it‘s always sliding out from under you,‘‘ he said. ”The piece is all about the discovery of the wire. I took the four years I spent learning wire — the emotions, the fear — and squeezed them all into five minutes.‘‘ He has already accompanied Cirque Eloize to Hong Kong, Brazil and Europe, and says he plans to stay until he learns to speak French without having to resort to mime.

FRED GARBO‘S INFLATABLE CIRCUS

The New York Times

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 11, 1998

A SHOW AS LIGHT AS THE AIR THAT PROPELS IT

By CINDY MARVELL

SO, what does an inflatable man do when the chips are down on Wall Street?

”We blow up everything in the garage and laugh at inflation,‘‘ proclaims Fred Garbo, the pneumatic vaudevillian who created the Inflatable Theater Company, coming to the Tilles Center on Saturday. Imagine a cross between Woody Allen‘s flying machine in ”Sleeper‘‘ and the balloons in Macy‘s Thanksgiving Day Parade, and you have some idea of inflatable theater.

Though capable of solo flight, Mr. Garbo‘s inflatables more often than not have humans inside. And not just any humans. Mr. Garbo‘s partner, Daielma Santos, is a Brazilian ballerina who trained at the Royal Academy of Dance in London. Together, they toss, dance and cavort inside and around creations ranging from giant cubes that unexpectedly sprout limbs to a full-length evening dress that adorns the elegant Ms. Santos. Then, of course, there is the beloved monstrosity Fred Zeplin, Mr. Garbo‘s inflated alter ego.

The spectacle of an orange-and-purple man who looks as if he weighs 300 pounds attempting dive rolls and cartwheels, performing handstands on a chair and imitating break dancers, has been known to leave audiences gasping for air. Years of physical training render such side-splitting images effective.

”People guess wrong if they think this is primarily for kids,‘‘ Mr. Garbo (originally Garver) said in a telephone interview from his home in Norway, Me.

”We‘ve performed everywhere from Montreal‘s Just for Laughs festival to the Kennedy Center to opera houses.‘‘ Not to mention David Letterman‘s late-night television show and a sold-out run at the New Victory Theater in Manhattan last spring.

Mr. Garbo is planning a new piece commissioned by the Alabama Symphony, to be performed with full orchestra and, of course, inflatables of all shapes and sizes. ”My mother was a violinist, and I played trombone when I was a kid,‘‘ he said, explaining his numerous pieces involving musical themes. ”But I couldn‘t reach seventh position‘‘ — a point on the slide that‘s a long reach for a child‘s arms — ”so I had to throw it down and kick it up with my foot. That may have been my start as a juggler.‘‘

As a child, Mr. Garbo, 44, performed magic tricks and revered the Marx Brothers. His favorite was Harpo, the silent yet musical one. ”He was angelic and beautiful, but also highly skilled. After all the humor, people were surprised he played the harp so well. That‘s why I continue to juggle in the show.‘‘

For Ms. Santos, a frequent guest principal dancer and choreographer with the Portland Ballet in Maine, the chance to work with inflatables offered comic relief. ”I was working in classical ballet only,‘‘ she said. ”Then I see Fred bouncing around in this inflatable suit and I thought: ‘Forget this pas de bouree stuff. I want to do something fun.’ ‘‘

As one of the prime instigators of the ”new vaudeville‘‘ movement in the United States, Mr. Garbo said he viewed the genre‘s popularization with a mixture of pride and chagrin.

”It‘s really blossomed,‘‘ he noted, ”so now everybody and their uncle can ride a unicycle, juggle and pick volunteers.‘‘ But Mr. Garbo‘s all-around talents in juggling, magic and tumbling have landed him such diverse opportunities as a role in the Broadway musical ”Barnum’‘ and a guest spot in Moses Pendleton‘s dance company, Momix.

As a teen-ager, he sought out the Celebration Mime Theater led by Tony Montanaro, the legendary teacher and author of the treatise ”Mime Spoken Here,” at his headquarters in South Paris, Me.

”At Celebration they were doing magic without props, gymnastics without competing,‘‘ Mr. Garbo recalled. ”I came when I was 19 and never really left.‘‘

His commitment was rewarded by the chance to tour with Mr. Montanaro. ”It really was the old apprentice system, learning the craft from the master,‘‘ he said. Now, as a teacher himself, Mr. Garbo has seen many of his students go on to perform with troupes including Cirque du Soleil.

Through Celebration, he met the internationally acclaimed mime Bob Berky, with whom he taught and performed for nine years. In 1982 they were joined by Michael Mo schen and formed a trio, Foolsfire, which performed at Dance Theater Workshop in Manhattan, the Spoleto Festival U.S.A. in Charleston, S.C., and the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Mr. Garbo fondly remembers his solo, which involved a unicycle powered by a kazoo.

After six years of touring, Mr. Garbo left the trio to pursue other projects and landed a gig on ”Sesame Street,‘‘ playing Barkley the dog for eight years. One creation that never hit the airwaves was a juggling monster named Dexter.

”Dexter tried to stop juggling, but it was like a drug: he couldn‘t give it up,‘‘ Mr. Garbo said. He found himself in a similar position when his dog days came to an end.

”I was still doing the unicycle, juggling a lot, and then, thank God, I thought of the inflatable man,‘‘ he said. The idea began as a stage set designed by the self– styled inflatalist George York for a performance at the Fools Fest in Montpelier, Vt. Mr. York, whose ”air galleries‘‘ include some of the lightest hot-air balloons in the world, reckons he has created about 50 inflatables for Mr. Garbo over the last 10 years.

Although Mr. York‘s inflatables have been used as scenery at festivals and on Ben & Jerry‘s Traveling Show, Mr. Garbo is his only client in the costume department. The prototype was made of white rip-stop nylon but eventually switched to hot-air balloon nylon. ”It‘s a real acting job to get the characters across in a big bag,‘‘ Mr. Garbo said. ”It‘s like a very large mask that transforms into a living cartoon.‘‘

Ms. Santos, who manipulates ribbons and bubbles and metamorphoses into an inflatable woman, toe shoes and all, said: ”We go from goofy inflatables to scary ones to classy, elegant ones like my dress.‘‘

”It‘s nice to have the seasoning of Fred‘s comedy,‘‘ she added. ”He has his own rhythm, but I‘m pretty much breaking it and taking it to another place.‘‘ Rehearsals tend to match perfomances in complexity, if not in comedy. In practice, the duo uses walking-talkies to direct the action, but onstage they are on their own.