Propmaking Pioneer Adjusts to Changes All 'Round

by Scott Malone

 

One might not guess it by observing him in action, but impatien...ce has had a tremendous impact on prop-maker Brian Dube's life. While the man has shown patience enough to invest tremendous amounts of time designing props, and last year celebrated the 20th birthday of his New York-based business, it was a desire to get started immediately that helped him to find his niche in the juggling world.

 

Dube' made his first attempts to juggle in 1975, using plastic balls that failed to amuse his Siamese cat. Not having a lot of luck with the featherweight kitty toys, he consulted Carlo's "The Juggling Book" and stepped up to oranges, because he didn't want to waste time hunting down the lacrosse balls that the book recommended.

 

After reading the book, Dube' looked up "Juggling Instruction" in the yellow pages, which led him to Jay Green's engraving business in Manhattan's jewelry district. Green wowed 24-year-old Dube with his ability to juggle clubs. He also invited the aspiring juggler to a juggling workshop then being held in downtown Trinity Church.

 

Soon, surrounded by the likes of Michael Moschen, Peter Bell, and Jay Games, Dube' realized that he wanted to learn clubs. He made his own set from dowels and bottles, but after using a real set loaned to him by John Grimaldi, Dube decided that he didn't want to "waste any time with the make-shift clubs."

 

Within three months of his first juggle, Dube' wanted his own set of clubs. "I placed an order with Jay, and he had a reputation for very slow delivery. When I told people I had ordered them, they said that I might be waiting for six months or a year. I didn't want to wait six months - I barely wanted to wait six hours," Dube said.

 

At the time Green and Stu Raynolds were among the only prop­makers around, and since neither had a reputation for prompt delivery, Dube decided to split the cost of materials for two sets of clubs with another equipment-starved friend.

 

With his only guide the borrowed clubs that he could look at but not disassemble, Dube' set out to construct some decent props.

 

"As I started, I just wanted something that would work, but the more I got involved with it, I tended to be more perfectionistic about it, and wanted to have something as good as the other clubs that were around. I ended up spending more money and more time than maybe I needed to." By the time he finished the clubs, Dube, who then made his living as a leatherworker, had invested in some tools and agreed to sell the clubs to his friend for $10 apiece rather than splitting cost. A propmaker was born.

 

Soon Dube's clubs, and his quick turnaround, began to be noticed. Steve Mills, 18-years-old and already doing five club and seven ball patterns at Lion's All Star Circus in northern New Jersey, was frustrated about prop availability when he learned about Dube's equipment. He looked at some of the clubs, which were made from green toy bowling pins, and told his friend that while they were good clubs, they were, "really beat, color-wise. But if you make them in white, I'll buy them," according to Dube.

 

The search for materials began, "We used to drive around to toy stores and search out plastic bowling pins. We would go down the aisles with shopping carts, open cases, and squeeze the pins to see how heavy they were. Every once in a while, we'd make a good score." Dube would haul the pins back to his apartment on Washington Square North, where they were cut up and turned into jugglable objects.

 

The color barrier broken, Mills took Dube' under his wing and introduced him to other local jugglers, including Joe Temple Sr. & Jr. who performed with Mills at Lion's Circus. Mills spoke of his new propmaker friend to others this way - "Look, he needs the money, he's broke, so buy his clubs."

 

Mills word was backed up by Dube's lower prices and better turnaround times.

Dube' said that prop-making at the time "was in such a primitive state, that if you made anything, there was just no competition." Many performers made their own clubs, torches, and devil sticks. Dube's reputation as a prop-maker grew, and he slowly began to lose interest in leatherworking.

 

Two years later, in 1977, Dube' found himself in Delaware at his first IJA convention, where he got a taste of what it means to be a celebrity  ("like an Albert Einstein, or an actor," in his own words). When he arrived on site, he heard that rumors were circulating that he had arrived at the site with props to sell.