Page 25 Summer, 1994
Despite
his buffoonery, he is an accomplished juggler, mime, magician and
slackrope walker. But because he is a clown, he loses control of the
broom handle as he sweeps the stage and dumps out his cigarettes when
he takes a break for a smoke.
New
York Magazine described his juggling routine as "an anti-juggling
act." According
to the reviewer, "He cannot even pick up and hold onto the three
clubs he wishes to juggle. However determinedly and more and more
elaborately he undertakes to grab them, one of them, more ingenious
than he is, succeeds in evading him. Yet this clumsiness, this ever
more complicated way of dropping one club, is in itself a balletic
discipline, prowess in reverse. And then sneakily, by a devious,
unlikely collusion of hand, foot, and improbably parabolas, the clubs
are made to acknowledge their master and crown him with their spinning
halo. He who would find his soul must lose it first."
JW:
You really make 'em laugh. AE:
No. Never.
JW:
I saw the show, Avner. AE:
Stand up comics make 'em laugh. Loud comics push the tension and
the release produces
uncontrolled exhale. The laughter in my show is voluntary. It has to
be. Defensiveness is held in the solar plexis. When you truly laugh,
you let go of that capacity to defend. Laughter is the ultimate
defenselessness. That's why acts like Penn and Teller and the Flying
K's leave the audience content. They create empathy and then add the
unexpected. it's hard to relate seven rings to my life. Feelings, I
relate to. Audiences must have an emotional commitment to the
character. A
native of Atlanta, Ga., and 1971 graduate of the University of
Washington with a major in theatre (after attending three other
universities!), Avner studied mime in Paris with Jacques LeCoq for two
years. He took some time off to tour as a puppeteer with Vagabond
Marionettes, and juggled in the streets of Paris to support himself.
On returning to the USA, he taught with Carlo Mazonne Clementi at
California's Delle' Arte School of Physical Theater. He gives credit
for his success to "LeCoq who taught me everything I know, and
Carlo, who taught me the rest!"
His
career has been a whirlwind of success, including a nine-month solo
show on Broadway in 1984-85, a lead role in Lincoln Center's 1987
production of Shakespeare's "A Comedy of Errors," and a lead
role in the movie "Jewel of the Nile." He has toured the
world, performing on television shows and at comedy, magic and theatre
He
and his wife, Julie, collaborated in a show called "The Zoo of
Tranquility," which presented a playful look at a world filled
with robots. Avner played Professor Spooner, a mechanical engineering
genius who couldn't change a light bulb without getting into trouble.
He
and Julie also co-wrote, he directed and she starred in "Woman in
a Suitcase," a one-person show about a woman who lives in a
suitcase and travels to Carnegie Hall to attend a concert. The
suitcase at various times became the woman's apartment, an airplane, a
life raft, a bathtub and the Carnegie Hall stage.
Asked
for his toughest moment onstage, Avner picked one that most of us
would be all day trying to top. It happened during his Broadway run in
1985. One night a platform was put in the darkened wings and Avner
tripped over it, tearing ligaments in his
foot. He finished the show, including a slackrope routine and a
standing backflip, and swelled up like a balloon thereafter. Forced to
cancel a week of shows, the box office simply told people that tickets
were unavailable for those performances. Word soon got out that the
show was sold out!
Residing
now on Peaks Island off the coast of Maine, Avner admits in his press
kit that he would "secretly rather be sailing." Asked what
he would do if he had to pick a new career, Avner said he would
create music. Doubtless it would have a compellingly innocent sound
achieved through careful study and insightful application.
Avner's
goals are good ones, and he makes mention of an interesting dynamic in
this context. He says, "Every step up, from say the street to
Renaissance Fairs or from same to cruise ships, is a trap door in the
floor of the next level where, invariably, things are pretty much the
same." In his career, he has gone way beyond goals he never had,
including the movie and the stint on Broadway. Currently he aspires to
raise a happy family and to teach his son how to be a good father.
"I know this is really my job," he said with a broad smile.
JW:
What do you have to say to fellow jugglers? AE:
Get your tricks right. You know what I mean? If you can do it one time
in a hundred, you can learn to do it every time. Do you see that? Do
not even think of putting it in your show until you have it down, and
if you must fail, learn to fail magnificently.
AE:
That's what the course is about at the Celebration Barn. For now,
ask yourself, "Why am I doing what I'm doing? Why am I dressed
like I'm dressed? These are important questions, and you'd be
surprised how many performers do not ask them. Also be aware of the
"look what I can do that you can't" performance mentality.
It does not translate to good theatre. I believe that in variety
theatre the final technique is to hide the technique. To get them
caught up in your character.
JW:
Like Murph. AE:
Murph is very technical. But he slips it in before you know it. He
sneaks it into the presentation, which is the trick. The art is to
hide the art. One book every performer
should read is Zen and the Art of Archery by E. Herrigel. It
explains all of this while talking about virtuosity and high skill.
Oh, and one more thing. Always have one more good line than the number
of drops!
Watching
Avner, you definitely feel he performs for you. While he is doing the
show, he sits in your chair. He plays with Karl
Saliter is a juggler currently playing the intelligent role in
the "Karl and Ned" show with partner Ned Gelfars, who in
their recent Singapore
tour was caned for bad visual punning. |
Avner tells a tardy audience member, "You're late!" |