August 19, 2016 |
A sad mime feigned a smile and struck a familiar pose, leaning into an invisible shelf in a dingy Northeast Philadelphia hotel he was then calling home. Billy Carwile, 62, was born deaf in Philadelphia and found a calling as a mime, training in Paris and performing all over the city and country for decades before he fell on hard times. Carwile and his mother, Anna, 86, had a simple wish when they came home to Philadelphia 20 months ago from Newport News, Va. They were looking to pool the roughly $2,000 a month they bring in from Social Security toward a house.
November 3, 1988 |
Preparing for his ride down the mountain, the skier adjusted his goggles, planted his poles and pushed off with a comical flair to start a descent marked by silent silliness. Slipping and sliding through his routine, the skier demonstrated the grace of a dancer and the timing of a veteran comic. The skier, complete with face paint, was mime Alan Schonberger, a former competitive skier known as "Marcel Marceau on Skis. " Schonberger was one of the main attractions for the 12,000 people who attended the fourth annual Ski and Travel Show, held Oct. 28-30 at the Valley Forge Convention Center.
June 26, 1986 |
"Everything is mixed up; everything is mingling. Everything moves," says Jacques LeCoq - referring perhaps to the transatlantic flight that he'd just made from Paris to Philadelphia, but more likely to a rapidly proliferating form of theater based on the expressive powers of the human body. If there is a prime mover behind the new mime movement, it is probably the speaker himself. Through his teaching at his Ecole Jacques LeCoq, founded in Paris 30 years ago, this former physical education teacher, physical therapist, actor and director has influenced actors, writers, dancers - even an architect or two - by turning their minds back toward their own bodies.
June 28, 1986 |
If the mime festival under way in Philadelphia has proven anything definitive since it began two weeks ago, it's that mime - or "movement theater" as its practitioners like to call it - eludes categorization. Yesterday afternoon at the Harold Prince Theater at the Annenberg Center, Daniel Stein presented a metaphorical play. However, it had no text. On the same program Thomas Leabhart presented a piece that had tomes of narration. Yet his piece was similar to any number of post-Merce Cunningham dances one is likely to see in New York City's loft scene.
February 13, 1986 |
Bill Carwile speaks volumes but says nothing. Thin and curly-haired, the mime artist paints his face chalk-white and his lips rosy red and bends, twists and gestures with a body as flexible as Spandex. Bill Carwile tells stories without words because he is deaf. And yesterday, the students at the Pennsylvania School for the Deaf, on School House Lane near Greene Street, Germantown, laughed and giggled and mimed right along with Carwile, a professional who has studied in France with the famed Marcel Marceau.
July 20, 1987 |
The International Mime and Clown Festival here last month presented 10 attractions in 38 public performances. This was not only a prodigious exercise in impresarioship, but a rare opportunity to become acquainted with developments in a different kind of theater. Public response was feeble. Attendance at the shows averaged only 45 percent, according to Michael Pedretti, director of the sponsoring Movement Theater International (MTI). Two performances (by the Israeli Tmu-Na troupe)
June 8, 1986 |
What has four wheels and flies . . . and juggles, and moves like a pine tree when not moving like an aspen, and wears baggy pants, and recites Shakespeare in pidgin Japanese, and asks the audience for a rubber band so that he can attach his red nose to his regular nose, and looks exactly as you and I would look if approaching a tightrope for the first time or leaving a beloved for the last time, and honks a horn, and nails his foot to the wall to...
June 13, 1986 |
We've been laboring under an illusion about mime, say proponents of the form. Because most Americans have been exposed only to the white-faced pantomime of the French master Marcel Marceau - and the many less-talented Marceau imitators who sprang up following his U.S tours of the '50s - we have a limited conception of mime. Most of us have thought of the mime only as that cute little fellow who engages us in a silent guessing game, in which we try to divine what action he's imitating.
February 7, 1991 |
Blowing a white kazoo, mime artist Laura Bertin jumped out onto the stage at Devon Elementary School and tried to "talk" to the students - but she kept tripping over an imaginary object on the stage. The children laughed as Bertin, dressed in a black and white shirt, black pants held up with red, yellow and blue suspenders and a red hat with a blue plastic horn, continued to fall over the object, eventually using illusion to move it. "Mimes imitate stories from real life. When you do mime, you can do funny things like walk and climb . . . you create an illusion.
November 15, 1997 |
In Poet in New York, the surrealist artist Salvador Dali tells Federico Garcia Lorca that an artist has to give people something they haven't seen before - which is just what the Pig Iron Theatre Company does with its show. The piece at the Mum Puppettheatre in Manayunk is a one-man presentation, but this imaginative, fascinating work is unlike any other solo show. By employing mime and movement and the risky gambit of having the single actor take both sides of a conversation, this piece transforms the hidebound solo form of an actor playing a character, talking to the audience about himself, into an exciting, absorbing hybrid of the one-person presentation and the multicharacter, multiscene traditional play.