Dallae's Story
"
I’ve been a PUPPET, a pauper, a pirate, a poet and a king; I’ve been up and down and over and out, and I know one thing; each time I fall flat on my face, I pick myself up and get back in the race.”
I’ve been a PUPPET, a pauper, a pirate, a poet and a king; I’ve been up and down and over and out, and I know one thing; each time I fall flat on my face, I pick myself up and get back in the race.”There’s just something so helplessly infantile with puppets that makes you want to simply leave them for the children to enjoy, but they’re free tickets to a show and a diverse way of appreciating history and culture, alongside this art of “giving life” to stuffed and sewn cloths... I snagged free tickets to a Czech marionette performance entitled, “A Dallae Story” at the National Theatre of Korea. Yep, a Czech marionette it is!
So as to level up the art of puppetry to something that is more theatre place-worthy, it calls itself a marionette. Marionettes are more precisely distinguished from the typical glove or finger puppetry since they use strings or wires and require skilled manipulation of these wires for the puppets to move. Prague, Czech Republic’s capital city, is well-known for this particular art.
The poster for the play is already enticing to start with, showing off pinks and reds in an aura that generally looks so rustic to me. It must be that puppet’s rich black hair and brown, farmer-like shorts.
And true to the poster’s short-liners like,
“Meet the story that swept the overseas audiences off their feet” and
“Fascinated by the simple, no-frills stage that exudes a sense of authenticity and a Korean sentiment”…
It does have that BIG heart. Not to mention one of the most humbling feeling drawn from Dallae, the war-stricken orphan, who lost his genuinely in-love parents in the Korean War.
When you have war as background to a story plot, tendencies to yawn and droop your eyes may come easily (lol). Come on, war stories are sad. It thugs you right through, so something must happen to your face to react.
The lull moments of the play were nevertheless jolted back by varied theatrical effects, from the conventional to the contemporary ones. There were the projector-supported silhouettes that set the change of mood and location for the real actors and actresses, while big drapes set the stage for the coming of life of the puppets.
Now most of us are pretty much used to watching puppets just in half or supported by some thin or transparent wires, since efforts are poured in to make them appear real despite the fact that some hand or stick are manipulating them from wherever. Dallae, the lead puppet character, therefore came in a bit uncomfortable to me to watch when he first went out of the stage with two people who held him on both hands and feet to move and perform scenes with the real actors. It takes a minute of trying to steer clear of Dallae’s “manipulators” and a couple of minutes to realize how much more there is to looking at both the puppet and its manipulators with such grace and sophistication.
What won me overall was how the play was able to lighten such a heavy sentiment— the loss of someone you love— with portrayals of happy thoughts and hopeful dreams in Dallae. The big paper fishes swimming in his thoughts (moved by another manipulator), along with his fabric-made dog were down right inspiring to watch.
National Theatre of Korea
Line 3 (Orange Line), Exit 2
Dongguk University Station
(Take shuttle bus in Taegukdang afterwards)
Read More...
And true to the poster’s short-liners like,
“Meet the story that swept the overseas audiences off their feet” and
“Fascinated by the simple, no-frills stage that exudes a sense of authenticity and a Korean sentiment”…
It does have that BIG heart. Not to mention one of the most humbling feeling drawn from Dallae, the war-stricken orphan, who lost his genuinely in-love parents in the Korean War.
When you have war as background to a story plot, tendencies to yawn and droop your eyes may come easily (lol). Come on, war stories are sad. It thugs you right through, so something must happen to your face to react.
The lull moments of the play were nevertheless jolted back by varied theatrical effects, from the conventional to the contemporary ones. There were the projector-supported silhouettes that set the change of mood and location for the real actors and actresses, while big drapes set the stage for the coming of life of the puppets.
Now most of us are pretty much used to watching puppets just in half or supported by some thin or transparent wires, since efforts are poured in to make them appear real despite the fact that some hand or stick are manipulating them from wherever. Dallae, the lead puppet character, therefore came in a bit uncomfortable to me to watch when he first went out of the stage with two people who held him on both hands and feet to move and perform scenes with the real actors. It takes a minute of trying to steer clear of Dallae’s “manipulators” and a couple of minutes to realize how much more there is to looking at both the puppet and its manipulators with such grace and sophistication.
What won me overall was how the play was able to lighten such a heavy sentiment— the loss of someone you love— with portrayals of happy thoughts and hopeful dreams in Dallae. The big paper fishes swimming in his thoughts (moved by another manipulator), along with his fabric-made dog were down right inspiring to watch.
National Theatre of Korea
Line 3 (Orange Line), Exit 2
Dongguk University Station
(Take shuttle bus in Taegukdang afterwards)
Header Photo is a personal shot of the Gyeongbok Palace in Seoul, South Korea. Site Powered by