Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, March 17, 1994 TAG: 9403220006
SECTION: NEIGHBORS PAGE: S-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By NANCY GLEINER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Eight years ago, when Wayne announced he would like to be a ventriloquist, the natural response from Mary Ann - with her extensive art background - was to make him a ventriloquist's figure.
Through a friend, the couple heard about the International Ventriloquists Convention. It was there that Mary Ann first saw a Verna Finley puppet and knew immediately that was what she wanted to make.
The Taylors splurged on a Verna puppet so Mary Ann could study it. After a few months of holding herself back, Mary Ann dissected the puppet to see how it was made. But she needed to know more.
She contacted Finley, considered the grand dame of soft - not wooden or plastic - figures, who kindly shared her knowledge and techniques with Mary Ann. The novice studied with the master and soon became her protege. Now, Finley often refers people to Mary Ann.
The inspiration for Mary Ann's puppets comes from people she sees in her everyday life or from ideas and requests from customers.
Without even a sketch to work from - ``I see it in my mind'' - Mary Ann sculpts and shapes a piece of foam and covers it with stretch terry cloth. She paints and costumes her puppets. The people and animal ones feature facial and body contours, muscles and wrinkles.
The faces are expressive and reminiscent - a maiden aunt, a wise-cracking teen-ager, a used-car salesman - that audiences relate to them immediately.
A stickler for realism within illusion, Mary Ann goes to yard sales, Goodwill stores and the like for material, accessories and clothes that she can cut down to be ``child-sized and proportioned for puppets.''
She makes certain no detail is overlooked. Gloves must be handmade for the traditional puppet hand of three fingers and a thumb. People figures need jewelry, eyeglasses, wigs, appropriate shoes.
A buxom floozie in a flashy red dress wears high heels, a feather boa and overdone makeup. ``The men in retirement and nursing homes love this one,'' she said.
There is humor interwoven in the creation of the characters. ``The world's oldest gymnast,'' as Mary Ann calls her, is complete with sweatband, leotard, towel - and cigarette. A toothless grandmother sports wire-rimmed glasses, hair in a bun, a sedate flowered-print dress - and rolled-down-to-the-ankle hose.
Once, when the Taylors were out of town, an neighbor inadvertently triggered their burglar alarm. Coincidently, a bat puppet with a five-foot wing span was hanging from the ceiling near the front door.
The Taylors still have visions of the police charging in and seeing the creature hovering overhead. ``I'm just glad they didn't shoot it,'' Mary Ann said.
During the eight years since Mary Ann started creating puppets, her work has become more than a full-time job. But is it still fun? ``Absolutely,'' she said.
Mary Ann's figures crisscross the United States and Canada, appearing at theme parks and state fairs, in theaters and colleges, in TV commercials and school assemblies, in police cars (for use, not as decoys) and church ministries.
She and Wayne have performed at the White House and have had Elvis appear in their living room. The life-size
Elvis figure, resplendent in familiar white jump suit, cape, glitzy belt buckle and lots of sequins, ``was my hardest challenge so far, because of the size and time involved,'' Mary Ann said.
``Her next challenge is to make a pelican with a fish in its mouth, with the fish also a puppet.
She has made a french fry guy for a performing Ronald McDonald, a talking trash can for a man promoting recycling, and has created a life-size likeness of an antique-car dealer for the real dealer to put in his vehicles.
Locally, Mary Ann has supplied puppets for the Showtimers, including the Venus flytraps for their production of ``Little Shop of Horrors'' and for Puppets By Pizazz, a Roanoke troupe - and, of course, for Wayne's shows.
Wayne, a mild-mannered book salesman for Grolier Education Corp. for 20 years, is transformed into high-energy, witty Wayne Taylor, illusionist, ventriloquist and reading spokesperson, with the help of his wife's puppets.
As a gimmick to help librarians and teachers remember him when ordering books, Wayne brought puppets with him on visits to the schools. He often entertained students while school staffers perused the publications.
Soon, he was performing for elementary-school assemblies, combining magic, ventriloquism and humor to encourage children to read. His current show, ``Dinosaurs and Magic,'' attempts to steer students toward libraries, where they can learn the illusions he has performed, more about dinosaurs or how to be a ventriloquist. He suggests to teachers that children research and write about how the illusions were done and perhaps learn to perform them.
``I love having fun with the puppets and trying to help the kids learn. I also love teasing people,'' he said, with a twinkle in his eye.
``We can say things through a puppet we would never say otherwise,'' Wayne said. Because audiences quickly relate to the puppets and not to the performer, situations are nonthreatening.
Wayne is a book lover as well as a book seller. Part of his message to kids to is let them know that ``all book people are not wimps.'' He is a great believer in and practitioner of physical fitness, as well as a fifth-degree black belt karate student and teacher.
``I hope that kids will see that even though you're getting some age on you, you can still stay active,'' Wayne said. ``Look, I still play with dolls and talk to myself.''
Wayne's shows include audience participation and good-natured ribbing, always aimed at willing teachers and students.
He and Mary Ann collaborate on writing scripts and choreographing the puppets, but she remains in the background during performances, preferring to watch him give life to her bits of foam, fabric and paint.
Wayne's interest in ventriloquism dates back to his youth, when he watched his hero, Jimmy Nelson, and Farfel on TV. When
he decided to fulfill a childhood dream, he sent for Maher's Home Ventriloquism Course, the standard for aspiring ventriloquists, and practiced ``mostly riding down the road reading road signs'' and videotaping himself.
Wayne's favorite figure is Hank, a teen-ager Mary Ann created for him.
``Hank's a mischievous little guy who loves to cut up and carry on,'' Wayne said. ``He's kind of a smart-mouth, and likes to flirt with teachers.'' Mary Ann suggested that perhaps Hank is Wayne's alter ego.
Hank knows some sign language and performed at a school for hearing impaired children. ``You could see the kids' faces light up'' when Hank began to sign, Wayne said.
Where does Wayne end and Hank begin? `` We [ventriloquists] are all schizophrenic,'' Wayne said.
Wayne books his shows eight to 10 months in advance across the state and in Maryland, and performs more than 200 times a year. His shows complement summer reading programs at public libraries.
In Wayne's hands, the toothless granny becomes a nonstop talker, upset that she might not get a date because she has no teeth.
Hank flirts with females in the room before he is gently placed on a chair beside Wayne and silenced once again.
Mary Ann's creations are works of art; Wayne's infusion of life gives them another dimension.
by CNB