MORE THAN 600 JUGGLERS FROM all over the world converged on the State University in Purchase, N.Y. for a learning vacation and six-day reunion with old friends as the IJA held its 36th Annual Convention July 19-24.

 

One of the most thrilling moments came as 476 of those present assembled to set a Guinness world record of tossing the most objects skyward simultaneously. If you were counting quickly, you should have noted 1,867!

 

For years members have been asking for longer conventions, and they got it this year. A smashingly successful press party at an uptown New York City disco kicked off things five full days before registration

began.

 

More than a score of jugglers took over the dance floor at the Red Parrot for a set of hot disco and another of equally hot live big band music by the Stan Ruben orchestra. Then the music stopped and Gene Jones, IJA president at the end of his third year, took the mike to introduce the stage show. Oblivious tourists and inquisitive reporters got more than their money's worth as Garbo, R.J. Lewis, Charlie Fry, Michael Marlin and AI Jacobs and Michael Davis performed.

 

It was a great beginning, but time proved it to be a misleading cue to at least one event to come. Ten days later, headliner act Michael Davis suffered the ignominy of being forced off stage as the Public Show ran overtime.

 

Five more acts, including Alan Jacobs, who followed his Red Parrot performance by winning the U.S. Nationals championship, waited in the wings only to be cut out of the Public Show completely.

 

It was a helpless feeling; watching the curtain fall on friends. A second show in the same theatre that night prompted the theatre tech crews to react harshly to the prospect of 20 more minutes of juggling.

 

Other than that, things went smoothly. The same basic crew was working at the registration table for the fourth year in a row, and their experience paid off. Many thanks to the non-officers among them, including Sue Bakalor, Jim Neff, Paul Neupert, Andrew Conway, Enid Weishaus, Karen Stott and Julie Carson. They heard good-natured complaints about the number of tickets conventioneers were issued (14!), and some grumbling over the price from people who had not registered early on the $189 package plan.

 

Gene Jones kept contact with the press and SUNY/Purchase people. People near and far knew the IJA had gathered, thanks to the major media coverage Jones arranged. He was also tied up with last-minute film deals and an endless procession of unforeseen hang-ups.

 

There were other consequences that week for him as well. At the business meeting, he somewhat regretfully and somewhat gladly turned over the IJA presidency to a successor, Bill Barr.

 

The most vocal complaint heard all week concerned the heat. Conventioneers sweated out their practices in the large gymnasium and suffered for several nights in non-air conditioned dorms, before cooler New England weather lifted spirits toward the end of the week.

 

As always, the gym scene was the pulse of the convention. Viewing the scene for the first time ever, Lotte Brunn, for 40 years a professional juggler in the best clubs all over the world, gasped that she had never seen anything like it. Into this year's melting pot (pun intended) were poured jugglers, acrobats, unicyclists, artistic bicyclists, musicians, magicians and more.

 

Practically everyone got involved in the wackiest group activity since the lemmings took to sea -- Combat juggling. For several hours until nearly 2 a.m. one morning, upwards of 200 3-club jugglers rushed each other all at once in a huge circle, with the sole object of being the last person juggling. Participants ranging in size from giant Larry Merlo to tiny Anthony Gano were thrilled over their silly pastime

.

Holding forth on the perimeter of the floor, more than a dozen propmakers displayed their alluring wares. Jugglers armed with cash dealt for both new products and convention specials, overstocked merchandise that manufacturers were selling at bargain prices.

 

In one comer, Kit Summers set up a borrowed video set and showed hours of tapes of his own and other juggling acts. It turned into a mini­theatre, with tired jugglers more than willing to pull up a chair around the screen for a break.

 

On a larger scale, Karl­Heinz Zeithen displayed a marvelous 8-millimeter film collection of 40 of the world's best juggling acts from 1900 to the present for Movie Night.