Kristmas Eve Karagöz Kollaboration with the Fairy Queendom

Posted on December 24, 2011 by lizcameron

English: Original by Rutger van Mazijk /modifi...

Image of the lavender flower fairy, from Bozcaada, who came to celebrate Christmas preparation time with the shadow puppet troupe via Wikipedia

Welcome to Christmas Eve, or as the Karagöz puppet troupe likes to refer to it as of late, “Kristmas Eve.” These little puppets, they have taken on the Kardashian family’s obsession with the letter K, and have started to use the letter wherever a letter starting with C or Ch is pronounced “K.” Ever since their wild romp in Provincetown, they have been acting kind of out there – “empowered!” says Safiye Rakkase. By the way, we still have to tell you about the puppets’ attendance at the Sultan of Nutcracker’s annual ball (but will have to wait until after Christmas – oops – Kristmas). OK, that’s it puppets, I am not going to roll with the K action, you can spell stuff that way if you want, but not me.

In any case, while we have been spinning our proverbial yarn about the 12 days before Christmas, introducing you to all of the major players in the shadow puppet troupe, we have not been filling you in on some of their pre-Christmas activities. Now, for years, the puppets have helped M. and I resolve our collective approach (no, Esma, I will not use a K for spelling collective) to handling Chrismas (not a K, Tiryaki, you impish addict!). As with many in the world, the holidays (while bestowing the promise of family unity and “good time together”) bring just a slight bit of dread.

Will so-and-so insult so-and-so unknowingly, will there be a fight between the Christians and the atheist, will family tradition be too much to bear for some who struggle from difficult family bayram images set long ago that are hard to leave behind…will the stress make us argue…will one of us storm off and leave the premises at the stress of it all – or threaten never to “do” Christmas again… the puppets have lived through all of this with us each year, each one supporting me in her or his own way in understanding how Christmas in my country and in my family may just be another Tuesday in M’s world…a world of his own with very different traditions.

A smattering of tree fairies from the classic Cicely Mary Barker-illustrated series...a delegation of tree fairies, plus the lavender fairy from Bozcaada came to meet with the Karagoz shadow puppets in my head recently (thanks to this website for the images)

This year, however, the puppets got it in their head that it would be a good idea to have M. and I work on a project together. And one day, while I was reading a book to my friend’s daughter, Esma had a brainwave. Esma, ever the nature lover, was sitting on my shoulder, reading along with me the poetry in the tiny children’s book Flower Fairies of the Wayside. This is a classic children’s book series from England, illustrated by the famous Cicely Mary Barker. As Esma was taking a closer look at the Mulberry Flower fairy (who she had seen before, in Turkey), she fell off of my shoulder and onto the book with a bang before rubbing her head free of swirling stars to pronounce – “what this little girl needs is a fairy castle for Christmas! Other bloggers make things for children – you know – like the life-sized chess set that one of the Archer’s of Okçular helped to make for the schoolchildren there! You can do your part for one little girl in your life, then move on to greater efforts in the community”

Hmmm, I thought to myself, that could be pretty well perfect for a seven year old girl enamored of pink, glitter and all things fairy. It’s been a challenging year for the little girl in question, so perhaps something really special (and pink, and glittery and magical) might do just the trick. And the planning commenced. Esma enlisted Hacivad Bey in the architectural effort, drafting plan after plan and whispering them into M’s ear at night so he thought it was his own idea. Esma took a more direct approach with me when it came to interior design – and even sought out Safiye Rakkase’s advice on decorations. Now, that’s a first in community building.

The Tree flower fairies, recovering after escaping from the plastic-encrusted tube from hell

One day, I brought home a set of fairy dolls from the crafts store, to give to our friend’s daughter to go along with the fairy castle. Although they looked plasticated to me, unable to breathe or generally sprite around at all, as soon as they entered the home, I found that the shadow puppet troupe was up in arms – with a great deal of running around, gathering implements (e.g. chopsticks, matchboxes, coasters, and the like, you know, things that tiny shadow puppets could move with relative ease).

“What on earth is going on?” I queried the puppets – you all look like you are part of the Red Cross and Red Crescent disaster relief service!”

“Well indeed, m’lady,” Hacivad Bey exclaimed as he ran by at breakneck speed “we are staging a rescue – there is a delegation from another puppet/doll ethnicity, and they are suffocating in plastic, we have to get them out BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE! Got to run – must-save-puppets!”

Before I knew it, the puppets had constructed an ersatz ladder up over the side of the craft store bag, and were dragging a paring knife, the smallest, up and over into the bag. By the time I walked over to see what was what,I realized that they were trying to “free” the plastic fairy dolls that I had purchased – all of which were jumbled together in a skinny plastic tube. Much to my shock and surprise, all of those fairies were beating on the plastic walls, fogging up the plastic glass with their fairy breath and making a tinkling-winkling fuss while using their magic wands to try to break down the plastic that was incarcerating them. Feeling horrible at their plight, and my part in it, I reached in and quickly pried the top off of the container – before the shadow puppets could begin to think about using that knife. Post-haste, the fairies flew out of the container and hovered around me.

“A benevolent human, I see,” a matronly fairy pronounced, “I see you shadow puppets are in good hands here. I have heard of you – the Sultan of Nutcrackers sent word of your presence my way – and I have been waiting to meet you all and sprinkle you with a bit of magic fairy dust to help you through the challenging moments of a family Christmas with your human. Oh – and I forgot to introduce myself, I am the Princess of the Tree Fairies, a delegation of the flower fairy queendom, we are matriarchal, you see.” Hacivad Bey and the Princess of the Tree Fairies commenced diplomatic discussions, and sent a tiny fairy emissary, the Linden Tree flower fairy, over to explain to me a bit about the Queendom of Flower Fairies:

One of the fuchsia guardian birds that travel along with the Tree flower fairy delegation

“Well, you see, madame, flower fairies are tiny creatures (the biggest is only 20cm tall) that live in the tree tops, marshes, forest floor, wayside and gardens. Wherever and whenever a seed sprouts, a Flower Fairy baby is born. Each Flower Fairy lives and sleeps in their chosen flower, plant or tree, and as this grows the fairy grows too. Each and every Flower Fairy is in charge of looking after their flower or plant; keeping it strong and healthy by making sure it has plenty of sunshine and water to drink, sweeping away dead leaves, and polishing flowers and stems. Flower Fairies are nature sprites. Each Fairy looks and behaves like an extra dimension of the plant it lives within and cares for. The evocative ‘song’ each Flower Fairy sings, helps convey the ‘spirit’ of her flower.” Enraptured, Esma took the Linden Tree flower fairy by hand and took him on a tour of the house. And so came the tree flower fairies, distant relatives of the Karagoz shadow puppets, for a Christmas visit.

The visiting Tree flower fairy delegation inspecting the newly-constructed fairy castle townhouse - they especially loved the shell-and-feathers fairy bed

In the few spare moments that M. and I have together in any given week, we were dragged by the visiting flower fairy delegation – along with representatives of the shadow puppet troupe – to work in the studio to create a fairy castle for our 7 year-old fairy fanatic. Celebi, the modernist, tells me it might be better referred to as a fairy townhouse, as it has three levels. We ended up with a fairy castle townhouse that has three different types of imaginary ecosystems, a maritime lair, a forest floor wing and woodsy realm complete with moss, antique tree trunk and glittering sparkly giant flowers that rival the movie Avatar in fancifulness.

A glittery teal flower, rivalling those seen in Avatar, for our very own New England-based fairy castle townhouse

While M. and I are not the best collaborators when it comes to creative projects, we learned a lot, had some good moments together and came up with a totally over-the-top fairy castle townhouse that I hope our 7 year-old friend will adore. Enjoy the photos of the fruits of our labor, and thank you, little puppet troupe and visiting flower fairy delegation, for getting us going on this! Now, let’s hope that the little girl likes it!

A close-up of the maritime lair

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And on the 12th day of Christmas: Meet Hacivad, the inimitable and learned Sufi leader of the puppet troupe

Posted on December 23, 2011 by lizcameron

Here is Hacivad, in one storyline where he turns, partially, into a goat, much to the delight, I am sure of his love-hate compadre, Karagoz! (Thanks to the Asian Shadow Theatre Exhibition's Flikr Photostream for this image)

And here we are, on the 12th day before Christmas, so it is time to meet Hacivad Bey, the fearless and calm leader of the Karagöz puppets in day-to-day operations. In modern times, the puppets might refer to him as their Chief Operating Officer.

Always cool, calm and collected, Hacivad Bey is a devotee of the Mevlana Rumi and is fond of quoting Rumi’s poetry from memory. Rumi rolls with the punches, always takes a positive view on life (unless he is really, really pressed, in which case he is known to rumble on occasion, as nobody is perfect.  It is usually that Karagöz gets him worked up to this mental space).  The puppets all look to Hacivad Bey to be the voice of reason, the maker of consensus, the level-headed leader, and he does not disappoint.  You may recall that the puppets gave way to Hacivad Bey once confronted with the Sultan of Nutcrackers on Commercial Street in Provincetown – he was the natural leader one would gravitate to if a martian asking “take me to your leader” was met.

A delicious Çoban Salatası that Hacivad Bey "helped" to prepare by whispering in my ear as I chopped the sebze, peynir and squeezed the limon. (Image from my own collection)

True to his cool nature, Hacivad Bey likes nothing more than a cool-as-a-cucumber Çoban Salatası (cho-bahn sah-lah-tah-suh, shepherd’s salad made from white cheese, cukes, tomato and lemon juice, at least in our house that is how it is made), with extra chunks of garlic and pul biber (a.k.a. Aleppo pepper) for comfort’s sake.  He is a simple man in this way, appreciating the small things in life.

If we look at the traditional characterization of Hacivad Bey (sometimes his name, by the way, is spelled “Hacivat”) in comparison to Karagoz, Emin Senyer has a slightly different take on the character, saying “Hacivat is reflective character with a pointed turned-up beard. Each movement is well calculated and worked out before hand. Karagöz, on the contrary is impulsive and his character is shown by his speech and behaviour. Hacivat,s reasoning limits his actions. Even though while on the screen, he makes few gestures with hands, Karagöz is the more dynamic and energetic. Where Hacivat is always ready to accept the situation and maintain the status quo and establishment, Karagöz is always eager to try out new ideas and constantly misbehaves himself.”

Senyer goes on to say that: “Hacivat is always bound by the moral principles of the upper class and can easily adapt himself to these principles. He sometimes becomes instrumental in providing pleasure for the upper classes and is always worried that Karagöz’ tactlessness will spoil these pleasures. Karagöz, the traditional symbol of the -little man- , on the other hand, finds that his tactless behaviour generally upsets most intrigues. Hacivat also serves as a foil to each character, underlining their helplessness and distress. Most of these lesser characters depend upon the machination of Hacivat to provide either the needed money, job or house. He is loquacious, credulous and good natured. Usually Hacivat offers useful advice to others, aiding them in their schemes. Because of his knowledge of etiquette and language and his opportunism, he is a most desirable, like able character in the neighbourhood. He is not only the local headman but is looked upon as counsellor, especially by the neighbourhood spendthrift. When he partners Karagöz in various undertakings, he prefers merely to find the clients and share the profit. Conversely Karagöz is not respected. He is always insulted by the dandies, is a target for the anger of the opium addict a victim of the village idiot,s practical jokes and the threats of the neighbourhood drunkards.”

As I am sitting here, writing and reflecting on the traditional characterizations of Hacivad Bey, as compared to the reality in my head, the man himself is sitting and watching, in the lotus position at the front of my keyboard.

“Excuse me, m’lady,” he calls out, quietly but commandingly, “I think that you write too much about me – let my actions be me, me be my actions – but more importantly – let my character be described in the words of Rumi, although I am not perfect, it is what I aspire to.”

“Happy to hear, Hacivad Bey, how might the Mevlana characerize you?” I asked in a quiet voice, as others who don’t see puppets were around.

Standing as if to deliver a gift, Hacivad Bey broke into a serious but theatrical mode, saying “Be like the sun for grace and mercy. Be like the night to cover others’ faults. Be like running water for generosity. Be like death for rage and anger. Be like the Earth for modesty. Appear as you are. Be as you appear.”

And he did, and I did, and we remembered to always to do the best we could in this effort. And so ends the 12 days before Christmas and the introduction to the heavy-hitting major players in the Karagöz shadow puppet troupe that inhabits my head.

Tomorrow, we shall see what the puppet troupe is up to for Christmas eve…and I will have you know that it involves a lot of glitter.

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On the 11th day of Christmas: Meet Perihan, the fairy godmother

Posted on December 21, 2011 by lizcameron

The demure, kind and loving Perihan who knows how to work a room in a difficult moment, my fairy godmother puppet (thanks to the Asian Shadow Theatre Exhibition's Flikr Photostream for this image)

When we last left you, the Karagöz puppets were jumping up and down whilst engaging in a hot debate about religion.  Leave it to religion to stir things up.  Hacivad Bey and Yehuda Rebbe had just co-recited a quote from Rumi, which posited that all Gods are really one…it was a call to unity of sorts.  Celebi, the modern lover, however, came in spouting off about religion being the opiate of the masses, et alia. Karagöz  was whooping and hollering and arguing all sides as the consistent agent provocateur.  There was such a cacophony, that the voices of the puppets actually formed a fast, intrepid and almost demonic rhythm, to which Safiye Rakkase the vainglorious dancer began to dance (you can read more about her here). Zenne, the little lady as nervous as a bowl of quivering jelly, held her hands over her ears and willed the chaos to move on (you can re-meet her here).  Sitting next to her, Tiryaki the opium addict was stimulated enough by the noise of the argument that he remained awake instead of nodding off in an opium haze.  Meanwhile, Kenne shrieked in horror and disgust, wagging her finger at everyone for fighting about God.  Honor, she was sure, was in need of major maintenance at this moment.

All of a sudden, a cooling breeze wafted in from the window, causing all of the puppets to cease their argument and turn to the wind as if to feel sunshine on their cheeks, it was such a healing breeze…and as they did this, in walked Perihan Hanım (Mrs. Perihan, pronounced hah-num)…the fairy godmother of the puppets.  Although she looks unassuming and sweet at first glance, her head bowed down, a mask of Karagöz hanging down her back.  She tends to don the mask when she prefers not to be seen.  This is a quiet lady – but an iron butterfly or steel magnolia type – who only comes out when she is really needed, so we don’t see her much of the time.  A few of the puppets gasped at her, aware that they must have crossed a line in order to be graced with her presence.

In a slight alto but crackly voice, Perihan Hanım greeted the group…”Hello, my friends, I see that a debate ensues….I encourage you to listen to one another, perhaps one at a time, and perhaps to drink some mint tea as you go, in order to soothe the soul.”

Most of the puppets began to hang their heads in shame, secretly sneaking glances from the sides of their curvy eyes.

“What I should like to say,” Perihan Hanım continued, “is that a story should help you along at this juncture.”

“Please do tell, Perihan Hanım,” Zenne said, shaking her leg and twisting her hands together, “please do tell us your story.”

Drawing up her scarf around her, Perihan Hanım gained inches in size and girth – all of a sudden a force to be reckoned with.  “Well,” she began slowly, “well…………. maybe it once was, and maybe it wasn’t…….but a Persian, a Turk, an Arab and a Greek were traveling to a distant land when they began arguing over how to spend the single coin they possessed among themselves. All four craved food, but the Persian wanted to spend the coin on angur; the Turk, on üzüm; the Arab, on inab; and the Greek, on stafil. The argument became heated as each man insisted on having what he desired.”

Clearing her throat, she turned to take a sip of the rosewater lemonade offered to her by Kenne. “Why thank you, for this….yes….so…..a linguist passing by overheard their quarrel. “Give the coin to me,” he said. “I undertake to satisfy the desires of all of you.”  Taking the coin, the linguist went to a nearby shop and bought four small bunches of grapes. He then returned to the men and gave them each a bunch.”

Jumping at the very millisecond that her voice indicated punctuation, Karagöz cried out  “What do grapes have to do with religion?” at which point several of the puppets threw him off of the laptop and into the rubbish basket where he became stuck in between crumpled papers, unable to be heard due to the rubbish insulation around him.

Ignoring the slight scuffle, Perihan Hanım continued on.

“This is my angur!” cried the Persian.
“But this is what I call üzüm ,” replied the Turk.
“You have bought me my inab,” the Arab said.
“No! This in my language is stafil,” said the Greek.

Shifting suddenly to her side –Perihan Hanım pointed her hand towards the troupe, saying “All of a sudden, the men realized that what each of them had desired was in fact the same thing, only they did not know how to express themselves to each other….so perhaps you just need to acknowledge that you will all seek your own truth – that you all need to – and that it is fine to differ.  Please do not confuse this human’s head any more than it already is – ever since Provincetown you all have been a bit mouthy and frowsy around the edges.  I implore you to straighten up a bit – but at least have respectful fun while doing so.”

Before any of the puppets could respond, Perihan Hanım pulled a magic silvery driftwood wand from her scarf – and waved it around the room – after which circles Aegean magic swirl began – the swirl consisted of blue Aegean sea confetti, lavender thyme/kekik flowers and glitter sparkles of the sun began to float around the room until they circled the puppets faster and faster – until time stopped.

Turning to me, Perihan Hanım smiled and said “I have stopped time to say to you that I will always be here for you, your fairy godmother, and before you can even eke out the words to call for me, I will be here – but know that I am always here – I am always whispering in your mind to help you along and I want you to be happy and well. So, know that you are not alone.  And,” she paused, turning her head to the side as if for emphasis, “I am the only one who can freeze this mass of crazy puppets…even Hacivad Bey cannot do this.”

Before I could thank her, the Aegean magic swirl got in my eyes – and she was gone.  But not forgotten. It’s not every day that one finds out they have a fairy Godmother, even if she is in shadow puppet form…

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