University Daily Kansan / Thursday, September 24, 1987
Arts/Entertainment
7
living the Legend
Stockwise from top: Kim Denid, Lakin resident, enjoys one of the turkey drummicks sold at the Renaissance Festival; Sarah Kessler, Kansas City, Mo. resident, takes a ride on the Dragon Swing; John Gregory Hanses, Whitona, Minn., resident, lectures daily at the festival that the earth is flat and the center of the universe; Denise Dwahlen, DeSoto resident, divides ribbons among about 20 girls for a dance around the Maypole.
he Kansas City Renaissance Festival has, for 11 years, been an escape for visitors
and tourists and a lot of daylong performances for the actors and
It's fun, frolic, andgarish period dress and dialect. It's food, drink, souvenirs, arts, crafts, sun and clean air.
David Colvin, Overbrook senior,
said that he first went to the Festival
two years ago and has come back
every year since.
"The shows are different every time," he said, after watching "Evan from Heaven" walk barefoot on a tightrope. Most of the stage performers left from year to year and even from morning to afternoon, Colvin said.
Colvin said he was interested in the mythological aspect of the Festival before he came. He said he avidly read fantasy novels such as those by Jason, and played the fantasy role-playing game Dungeons and Dragons.
The Renaissance Festival in Bonner Springs, Mo., presented by the Kansas City Art Institute, has been open every weekend since Sept. 5 and will be held through Dec. 16. The proceeds will benefit the College of Art and Design in Kansas City, Mo.
Aside from the shows, Colvin said that he enjoyed looking at the stalls of the merchants, who sell glassware, pottery and clothes.
"Evan from Heaven," alias Evan Ravintz. a Boulder, Col., resident.
stepped precariously along a rope strung about 10 feet off the ground between two trees. He was barefoot, wearing a gypsy vest and pants.
Although he said he had performed his act for several years at the Festival, he looked as if he were about to plummet from his wire. He stayed aloft, but his antics had drawn about 75 spectators.
“It’s all right,” Evan assured them slowly, as if even talking was difficult while balancing. “I’m not really doing this.”
Three children on the ground held lightweight juggling clubs, waiting for Evan's signal to toss them up to the crocodile crab kept up his piss-stone tide.
"Remember, this is not a game of kicks off. Off The Wire," he reminded them.
After a few tries, the first two children tossed the clubs to where Evan could reach them. The third, a girl named Hew, drew his club into the crowd instead.
"Can I have a slightly larger child?" Evan said, after a few erratic tosses. A few minutes later, he was juggling all three clubs while balancing on one foot, drawing applause by flipping clubs under one leg.
Evan pleased the crowd by sliding down a rope from the tree to the ground to end his act.
Not far away, Emmie Kennicott,
Lawrence graduate student, was
spending the weekend with her family,
baking bread in a stone oven. The
samples been giving away
samples of sourdough bread at the
Festival since 1865.
Kennicott said that her brother got the family started at the Festival. Their father has baked sourdough bread for 26 years, she said.
Donations given at their booth go to Cross-Lines, a Kansas City charity that distributes food to the poor and helps poor people find jobs.
Kennicott said that watching the people was the best part of the Festival. "Some people from England came by and said they had never baked their own bread when they lived in America. They came to America and hated the bread he, so they bake bread now, she said.
On a typical day, the family makes and hands out about 30 bread loaves, she said. The Festival gives them some money to cover the cost of flour, but otherwise it's all just for fun, Kennicott said.
Over at the jousting arena, two knights in full armor, sitting astride armored horses 50 yards apart, glared at each other. Both carried 10-foot jousting lances and large swords. The second "Queen Anne" stood in the royal box, watching the action and cheering for their champion.
The two knights made several passes, galloping past each other and trying to unseat their opponent. Soon they were outnumbered in words, hacking away at close range.
The King's champion unseated his challenger but lost his sword in the process. Carrying two swords now, the dismounted warrior mocked the champion, challenging him to dismount and fight. The dismounted warrior dodged a few lance attacks.
instead, before changing his mind.
Finally, the king's champion disarmed and defeated the challenger. Poised to slay the fallen knight, the winner was interrupted by the King.
"Remember, if you kill him, you'll have no one to joust this afternoon, and you'll be out of a job. What will it be, mercy or unemployment?" the King said. The champion chose mercy.
Marcia Whitmore, Lawrence resident, spent part of the day helping the knights get in and out of their armor. Whitmore usually was one of the Festival's wenches, roaming the grounds and entertaining passers-by. Saturday, she worked at the jousts because they needed the help.
She prefers to play a wench, she said. "I can be crass and obnoxious and get paid for it," Whitmore said.
"You have four guys to do it, and a support team of at least six other people," she said.
Whitmore is working on a metalsmithing degree at KU, but she said she took this semester off because she lacked tuition money.
Pay at the Festival is minimal: performers earn only $7.50 a day. Nonetheless, Whitmore was there for the third straight year.
"Why do I do it? I'm addicted to people," she said. "You do what you need to do. I am here to have fun."
Story by Brian Baresch
Whitmore's wenching costume was long, rusty, purple dress with a puffed skirt. The hat was a wide-brimmed
Photos by James Larson
"It is 81½ hours of continuous improvisational theater," she said. "The performers try to have as much fun as the guests do."
KU bus driver crafts leather saddle with state history written all over it
By JAVAN OWENS
Staff writer
Bill Gomer is a teacher. That's the side of him the KU students who see him every day do not know, because they see him as their bus driver.
At night, after an ordinary day of taking students around campus and Lawrence, the KU on Wheels bus driver becomes an art teacher. He teaches pictorial carving in Topeka on Tuesday evening for the Kansas State University crafting at the U.S. Penitentiary at Leavenworth on the other nights he has available.
But Gomer is the first to say that bus driving is not a long-term career goal. He wants to teach — a little America, a little history.
"Most of the students think, 'He's just another dumb bus driver. 'Come me said. 'There's a problem.' He says, 'It's relaxing and stimulating.'
History - Kansas history to be exact - is written all over a battle he has created for the Kansas State Historical Society.
The project, which began just as a demonstration of leather working for the society two years ago, blossomed into a project that will
tell about how Kansas came to be.
Although still incomplete, the saddle has been appraised at $35,000. Gomer has worked on the 16th in all of Kansas "in the pots." 108 counties.
Engraved in the leather are scenes from Kansas history, as well as state landmarks and symbols, such as the sunflower.
He worked on the piece at the American Lung Association Cider Days festival, which took place in April. He plans to finish it in October.
Former Gov. John Carlin and Rep. Jim Slattery, D-Kan., both have signed the saddle. Before the work is completed, President Ronald Reagan, Senate Minority Leader Bob Dole and Mike Hayden also will add their signatures.
He said the saddle would go on loan to the Museum of Natural History in Topeka for one year. Then it will be on loan to the Kansas State Historical Society for one year.
"It may never get sold, but it's got history written all over it," Gomer said.
Kansans may see the saddle as it toures the 105 counties it was created in. Gomer said.
He wants students to learn about
F
Folk arts are the kind of crafts that have been passed down from generation to generation. It's like when a blacksmith taught his son the tricks of the trade. If we don't keep it alive, we're going to lose our heritage."
— Bill Gomer
Craftsman and KU on Wheels
bus driver
folk art. Only through learning about the arts and crafts of yesterday can a student understand what the art of today is, he said.
"Folk art are the kind of crafts that have been passed down from generation to generation," Gomer said. "It's like when a blacksmith makes a knife, and it gets traded. If we don't keep it alive, we're going to lose our heritage."
The leather craftsman has been fighting to keep his craft alive in the minds of young Americans.
Sundays, his garage in Jarbalo becomes the studio for his 10 saddle-making students.
Gomer said he was concerned that there were fewer and fewer places where students could learn old crafts. Kansas State University is the only Regents school that has such a program, he said.
Phil Blackhurst, chairman of the University of Kansas art department, said he did not know if folk art used folk art don't require formal training.
"When you think of folk art or a folk artist, you think of someone who has acquired a craft, but has undergone 'normal training'. Blackmur said.
"Many students have not learned how to apply their book learning to life," Gomer said. "That's what I'm talking about — learning to use those skills and creativity with them with what you learn in class."
Gomer disagreees. Gomer, who earned a master's degree in fine arts at Emporia State University, said an artist must learn to reconcile his formal and informal training.
His saddle, he said, is an example of that.
"This is more than art; this is a part of history."
Scott Carpenter/KANSAM
Bill Gomer, a KU bus driver, displays the saddle he made for the Kansas State Historical Society. The saddle, which is to be signed by President Reagan, was on exhibit Saturday and Sunday at the American Lung Association Cider Days in Topeka.