Rhett Wickham: Crawling Around in the Cortex of Creativity
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There is something delicious about the requisite dim lighting in the History Center�s galleries. Granted, the lower levels can take some time to adjust to when you first enter, but be patient. It�s all to protect fragile works on paper and the colorful fabrics of the puppets themselves. In a happy accident of preservation meeting presentation, it feels as if we�re wandering among the muted kaleidoscope of Henson�s brain, exploring the quirky nooks and crannies of an imagination the likes of which we�ll not see again. It�s a reverent place, a kind of cathedral of imagination, and entirely appropriate for the exhibit�s subject.
Most traveling exhibitions are sent out as �trunk shows� - pre-fab shows that come with step-by-step instruction for how the elements are displayed and hung. This show, organized by the Smithsonian Institution�s Traveling Exhibition Service division in cooperation with the Jim Henson Legacy and the Henson Company, is smartly curated, and fairly clutter free. But each exhibition space on the road is under the control of the host facility, and, thankfully, Michael Perkins, Curator of Exhibits for the Orange County Regional History Center, and Exhibit Coordinator Bill Dumas have fashioned an ideal backdrop that serves to move us comfortably and warmly through the small mountain of material that is here for exploring. The fragile and precious artifacts are well cared for thanks to Curator of Collections Cynthia Melendez, presenting everything in a crisp, clean and carefully tended environment. Museum goers don�t usually give much thought to how a show �looks�, but paint colors, layout, and space use play a critical role in a good exhibit, and the best show can quickly enough turn into a muddy disaster in the wrong hands. The OCRHC staff has done a world class job in getting this show on its feet, surpassing any other museum in Central Florida for curatorial standards, and equaling if not exceeding the quality one associates with the Smithsonian. That includes a handsome little gallery guide assembled by OCRHS staffer Emilie Arnold, written and designed by Arnold and an outside graphic designer just for the History Center.
There are so many charming surprises in store for visitors who take the time to look carefully at each little story board panel and pencil sketch. Some folks might be tempted to comment �gee, my kid draws like that!� or �I doodle like that all the time!� Really? Even if that�s so, when�s the last time you or your kid explode those doodles open and made magic with them? Henson did, all the time, and the pure, un-adulterated charm and whimsy of simple shapes instinctively and ideally arranged are what separate the scribbles from the masterworks here.
A few circles, an arc, a triangle and a dash come together in quiet confidence to make a snaggle-toothed witch in the storyboards for an industrial film; so perfect a character is Taminella Grinderfall that to shift an eye or widen a mouth would be puppet homicide and add up to little more than an ordinary, benign felt lump rather than an wicked and believable foil to the pill-shaped RX Twins, siblings who play opposite her in this clever re-working of �Hansel and Gretel� from 1965.
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Several of this sort of video clip from Henson�s earliest work in commercials are on view, including a punch-drunk series of Wilkins Coffee commercials that model how to make a point in under ten seconds. There�s also Sir Linit, a ridiculously over-wrought knight made out of a can of fabric spray, with irons for feet, who speaks in a silly Elizabethan dialect and makes a personal appearance just around the corner from the monitor looping his long-forgotten 15 seconds of fame. This same period introduces us to characters who would later become super stars in their own right, like Rowlf the Dog, who made his debut in commercials for Purina Dog Chow. Rolf himself is on han..derr..rather �off� hand nearby, and appropriately sitting at eye-level with younger visitors who will be tempted to tap on the plexi-glass and wake him up with a kiss on that impossibly large black bean of a nose. Simplicity made sublime, thanks to the skills of master builder and long-time Henson fabricator, the late Don Sahlin.