Spotlight: Gotama

Siddhattha Gotama took a famously circuitous route to cosmic enlightenment that included years of orgiastic excess and indulgence of the flesh (sign me up) followed by a monk's lifestyle of severe self-denial and privation (I'll get off here, thanks). A subsequent realization that starving oneself to death is not the epitome of spiritually healthy behavior led to enlightenment and Buddha status, a process depicted in Gotama with sometimes astounding assurance. Aditi Brennan Kapil's script starts at the end, with loyal servant Channa (Julian McFaul) begging Gotama to eat something, lest he expire. From here we go back in time to Prince Gotama's insanely opulent childhood, his overall excellence at everything, and the events that trigger his long search for understanding. Director Andrew Kim and designer Masanari Kawahara propel the action by restlessly moving from medium to medium as events unfold. In addition to puppets, the narrative is goosed along by projections, shadow figures, and even the odd bit of slapstick (the cockeyed grin inherent in Buddhist belief is well represented). Laura Harada and Tim O'Keefe provide musical accompaniment, employing a wide range of strings and percussion in a score that nicely captures both the yearning and the restless seeking that we see onstage. In the final third of the show Gotama appears in the form of a puppet who is about three-quarters the size of a real person, and this figure's stoic remoteness underlines the frightening path of self-denial the prince has taken. (His entrance, half-starved and gaunt, is accompanied by Harada's plaintive violin in a moving moment.) By the time Gotama has his flash of insight (not to spoil the ending or anything, but human life is suffering and desire is the source of suffering. So there.), we've been treated to an array of stagecraft and visual devices that add to the transcendence without providing needless distraction. Lovely, meditative, at times sublime.

Puppetry engages audience to join Buddha on his journey

Ed Huyck, Special to the Star Tribune

Telling the story of a historical, let alone historic, figure is a tough proposition. Lives don't usually fall into the neat patterns needed for storytelling. When the figure -- Siddharrtha Gotama -- is the founder of Buddhism, you're dancing in dangerous territory.

In the Heart of the Beast Puppet and Mask Theatre takes these issues on with aplomb in "Gotama: A Journey to the Buddha." Whatever changes have been made to the details, the story's essence and the philosophy underpinning it are powerfully and movingly presented.

As Gotama is represented silently by puppets, it falls to charioteer Channa (Julian McFaul) to tell the story. We follow Gotama from birth, through his pampered youth and early adulthood. As a prince, all of his needs and wishes are taken care of -- except to see, know and understand human suffering.

Gotama finally takes a short trip outside the palace and comes face to face with age, sickness and death. His kingly father tries to placate him with a party, but to no avail. He needs to understand the world -- outside the palace walls.

Gotama and Channa embark on a journey of discovery, meeting a number of people whose philosophies do not meet the soon-to-be Buddha's needs. After years of severe austerity (both he and Channa are on the verge of starvation), he makes his final transformation.

The creative team (director Andrew Kim, designer Masanari Kawahara and writer Aditi Brennan Kapil) treats the story with respect, but not so much that it becomes a dry history lesson. The puppetry is varied, clever and well-suited. From marionettes to shadow puppets to a Punch and Judy scene, the work by the puppeteers -- McFaul, Kawahara, Janaki Ranpura and Sandy Spieler -- is excellent. Their work on the various incarnations of Gotama, especially the full-size figure used in the last half of the show, combines to bring the wood and papier mache creations to life.

"Gotama" doesn't offer enlightenment, but Heart of the Beast does show us the path taken by the historical Buddha, along the way crafting an evening that is entertaining and thought-provoking.

Puppets play with the story of Buddha

'Gotama: A Journey to the Buddha' tells the story of young Buddha's transformation from pampered to pious

Thanks in part to the genius of Jim Henson, many people think of puppets merely as child's play.

The same puppets that entertain children challenge adults. They ask them to look deeper, suspend their disbelief and connect their inner child with their adult psyche.

In the Heart of the Beast Puppet and Mask Theatre plays with their puppet expertise to tell the deceptively simple story of "Gotama: A Journey to the Buddha."

"Puppets have an incredible amount of sort of odd power," said Andrew Kim, the show's director. "People have to open up and change their definition of what is possible in the world."

Prince Siddhattha Gotama is a man searching for the cure to all human suffering. Channa, Gotama's charioteer, narrates the journey from birth to zen as Gotama becomes Buddha, which means "the teacher."

"How can we save the world if we can't save ourselves?" Channa asks of Gotama after he has nearly starved himself to death because "eating solves nothing."

Linen and things

The theater smells like burning incense. The set is draped with white linen used as a background for projecting the words of Gotama as well as other important images. Behind the linen, silhouettes form and take the audience on the journey with Gotama.

The human characters, those with flesh and lungs, are dressed in shades of white; the characters made of papier-mache and cardboard wear colorful costumes.

An array of instruments, some one-of-a-kind, makes up the play's music. The instruments make sounds as interesting as their names: ond, duduk, daff and zarb.

Laura Harada and Tim O'Keefe are well trained with the instruments, as well as in Eastern music styles. Their work with "Gotama" brings live excitement and even a few tears.

The process behind this story started about two years ago when Kim and Masanari Kawahara (creator, designer and performer) came together, and Kim posed the idea of telling the story of Buddha.

Kawahara grew up as an atheist in Hiroshima, Japan; he believed religion divides people and is the result of fighting. When he moved to Minnesota and attended school at the University's Duluth campus and later at the Twin Cities campus, he saw many people who practiced Buddhism were pure in their search for zen. Since then, he has strived to incorporate meditation and zen into his everyday life.

So when Kim approached him with the idea of telling the "quintessential heroic journey" of Gotama, Kawahara took on the challenge.

"I said 'Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is the biggest mountain you have to climb,' " Kawahara said. "But then I thought it's a little story or a big story, and what's the difference."

Four puppeteers and two musicians met for two weeks to create the story from scratch using existing puppets, scraps of cardboard and trial and error to construct the story.

After nailing down the show's basic premise, the company built the set and puppets, wrote the script and made the story of Buddha available to the young and old ' making full use of their puppets' capabilities.

"It's fun because you're playing with the rules," Kim said.