BY PETER D. MARK

 

Crash! C-C-CRASH!! Two dozen people are attending a plate manipulation workshop at the third annual Portland Juggling Festival (April 1994) at Reed College. Rhys Thomas, the instructor, smiles broadly and remarks "I love this job!" as echos of plate death fill the squash-court classroom.

 

At first, Rhys (pronounced "Reese") teaches some simple moves - arm curls and centrifugal sweeps. As he introduces more challenging maneuvers-back-of­the-hand rolls, finger spins, palm tumbles - more and more plates meet their demise like only a china plate can. Rhys began the workshop with two large boxes of thrift store china plates, a dustpan, and a broom. He leaves with two boxes of shards.

 

Rhys Thomas doesn't just juggle plates. If anyone can be described as a juggler's juggler, it's Rhys. At 31, Rhys has performed with not only conventional props, but a bewildering variety of, as he calls them, "the frivolous arts:" kitchenary juggling of plates, malt cups, spinning bowls; Wild West skills such as lariat tricks, whip cracking, and knife-throwing; unstable platforms such as unicycles, stilts, free­standing ladder, slackrope, stacking chairs, and rola bolas; and Oriental forms including ball and parasol, meteor swinging, and diabolos. Rhys insists on using ungimmicked props such as real ceramic china plates, ungimmicked spinning bowls (with rimmed, but non-concave bottoms), and real bayonets, circular saw blades and other knives.

 

Behind the mastery of these diverse skills is a life-long curiosity about the history of juggling and circus arts. Rhys draws his inspiration from the classical forms of the past, but he applies his creative energy to combine and adapt these forms in original ways.

 

He accompanies his juggling routines with a confident patter that seems relaxed and casual, almost ad-libbed. Yet the lines are carefully planned and delivered with a theatrical panache and impeccable timing that shows his community theatre background.

 

Rhys tells stories in a cadence that matches the rhythm of his juggling. In a 3-club routine, he anthropomorphizes his red, blue, and yellow clubs as graduates of the "primary school of juggling." He adopts the persona of a waiter in an elegant restaurant for his plate manipulation routine. As plates gracefully flip, roll, and spin, Rhys explains with a sly smile that he is the "juggler du jour-but you can call me your little Rhys­ling!" While manipulating stainless steel malt cups, he relates the details of a vivid dream-"The Nightmare of the Demon Dixie Cups" - in which he finds himself in a 1950s malt shop "with pretty waitresses with short skirts, roller skates, ... and bruised knees." Keeping three ceramic bowls spinning atop long wooden dowels, he expounds professorially on the question "Why kitchenary juggling?" (while seeking "a perfect bowl movement"). To a cigar box routine, he recites Shel Silverstein's delightful children's poem "Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out."

 

Humor pervades these narrative accompaniments, and the jokes are peppered with literary and cultural allusions, both high-brow and low.

For example, references to Robert Frost's poetry and the television show Star Trek appear in a diabolo routine offering advice to a would-be juggler contemplating the precipitous step of quitting his (or her) day job. Here is his script, with tricks appearing in brackets:

 

"Many of you out there have probably thought 'Wouldn't it be great to be a juggler ... it sure beats working for a living!' I hate to tell you, but playing for a living is not all fun and games. But if you think you have what it takes to be a juggler, let me give you a few tips.

 

"First of all, go to college. [walk around diabolo I to r] Because if you accrue enough debt, [diabolo around you r to I] you can learn anything. [duck under sticks r to I]. And once you build up the necessary muscles, [diabolo over r arm] you'll find that the learning becomes easier, [diabolo over both arms] and the possibilities become mindless. [figure-eight around forearms]. Still, there will come that day when you will have to decide [whip] to put your foot down on the "road less travelled... [over foot] ... rather than the path of least resistance, and become a juggler: [over leg] selling your skills on the streets for money, [figure-eight around thighs] becoming nothing more ... than just a juggler  [stick release into frantic whipping].

 

"Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to defile gravity - [string climb] to boldly throw where no one has thrown before [pirouettes]. Many are called, but few accept the charges [catch high in hand, hold heroic pose]."