Summary of Part IIIe : The Great Salt Lake Mime Troupe spent about a month gigging their way from California to Michigan, where they stayed with the Friends Roadshow, and finalized plans for performing in Amsterdam, Holland. After a mad dash to New York City, they parked their bus and boarded a Capitol Airways charter plane. They slept all night under the nurturing eyes of the flight attendents, and shuffled into the Brussels airport at daylight, while half their baggage flew on to Frankfurt. Somehow, despite suffering acute jet lag, the whole group made it to Amsterdam by rail. They went immediately to the Milky Way nightclub (De Melkweg), where Capitol delivered the rest of their clothes and equipment two days later. At De Melkweg, they met both new and old Friends. Katie smiled through her exhaustion and said: "We're here ..."

Peter Domela Nieuwenhuis was one of the very first people who sought us out at De Melkweg when we finally arrived in Amsterdam. Jango had previously contacted Peter and asked him to "take care" of us. It wasn't quite the same as Strider rescuing the Hobbits from Black Riders in Lord of the Rings, but we sure needed his help!
Before I tell any more of this story, I am pausing to thank this kind and giving man for all the efforts he made on our behalf.
Now back to the chaos of awaking in a strange country, with half our luggage missing. Ojan, a Turkish laborer from Germany, acted as de facto dorm-manager for De Melkweg in their loft space at de Rosenstratt. I spoke a little high school German, which helped a lot! Ojan also had a funny-looking dog who scratched himself a bit too much.

Peter showed up at de Rosenstraat the very first morning and did his best to get our jet-lagged aggregation oriented to where we were. He owned an upstairs floor in a residental building in the west part of the city, which had been vacant for quite a while, and did us the kindest favor possible by opening the place up for our use within the week. We moved into Peter's apartment after Capitol Airways delivered the rest of our luggage to De Melkweg. I cut my elbow on a stray piece of glass while we were cleaning, but Peter drove me to the hospital and gave them his insurance number. They stitched it up right away. Amsterdam was celebrating its 700th Anniversary, and the city was just plain OLD -- beautiful, for sure, but it took a lot of effort by its residents to keep things clean and in repair. Peter found affordable transportation for us -- especially a modified Volkwagen micro-bus, decorated with duck stickers. We also got the keys to a smelly VW square-back Variant.
We encountered other allies, including the Amsterdam branch of Friends Roadshow -- rather than being performers, they were technicians, artists, and engineers named Cor Francks, Henk Targowski, Charly Jungbauer, and Janet Beevers -- with Charlz Jundo off in Rome for some reason. They owned a fabulous stereo system, and shared my enthusiasm for Reggae music, plus edgy Rock like Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band. We would work with them more and more often as the Festival of Fools approached.

A miraculous photo from 1975 showing the bus which Peter found for us to use. We eventually named it "Fanniusduck." Remarkably, Peter's apartment is in this frame too -- shown in blue at the upper left.
Picture: Peter Domela Niewenhuis; Colorization by M.E.

Just as we settled in West Amsterdam, Peter led us to the Dutch countryside where we had an opportunity to perform in a "Funpark" near a lake called Gooi Zee. At first Oud Valkeveen seemed idyllic -- everything was clean, neat and painted in dark green, with red and white trim. We had comfortable living quarters not far from the carousel, and the ladies in the kitchen cooked everyone a beautiful meal.
The next day started out with a parade from the nearby village to the amusement park on bicycles, unicycles, and slow-moving open trucks. (Dave Zupan even juggled astride his bicycle in makeup!) The Mime Troupe played music, and the dancers performed a few numbers. George worked his magic on young and old alike. I painted my face too, and had a great time in the early afternoon teaching children how to juggle without understanding a word of their language -- I gradually learned how to count in Dutch, though. We had our first rehearsal in Europe at their restaurant, and the owner promptly took an interest in our band -- sitting in on piano.

Het Gooi was a beautiful area of lakes and streams outside of the big swarming cities.

*The Hot Theater's festival included David Bowie's teacher Lindsay Kemp, Jango Edward's former partner Nola Rae, and the duo of Byland & Gaulier who we'd seen in LaCrosse, Wisconsin the previous year. Note their title Amerika! for our show -- the last thing they expected was the great dance concert they saw.

We saw the Hot Theater for the first time when we traveled there as a group to see Nola Rae and Peter Wyssbrod Biel on their second night, where Biel performed his existential Abfall (Garbage) after the intemission following Nola's energetic, but conservative, mime show -- which became progressively better and better over her career. She was also a source of very good advice about the European theater scene, and a sweet lady in every way.
We were ready to do a concert -- bar gigs and street performances were not satisfying any of our needs. Jet lag, bad nerves, and the disorientation from our long trip were still affecting us, but everyone was CONCENTRATING on the first of our two nights -- sometimes so much that the crew had to remind us what time it was, and how soon we were supposed to go on. The band started playing, and the Great Salt Lake Mime Troupe went about showing the Old World a whole new synthesis of Dance and Mime. I remember the show as dark and intense. Emotions were keyed very high, and Matt's Puppet routine with Carrillo started earlier than normal. The audience was often breathless, and enjoyed the relief of Georgio's gentle clowning. Further emotional storms were released during our Modern Dance sequences. When the concert finished and I raised the house lights, the audience surged onstage and everyone started embracing or shaking hands. We had a lot of Amsterdam supporters in the crowd, but they weren't the only ones who offered hugs of reassurance and congratulations after our gut-baring performance!
I turned my eyes away from the teeming crowd below the lighting booth to turn off the board and get my notes in order for the next night. When I looked out again, everybody was sprawled face-down on the floor of the stage.
What the heck was going on down there?
Ah -- One of our dancers lost a contact lens in the tears and turmoil. Luckily, it was found within minutes.

Mark Nelson started performing his own solo
Folk Music act at the Hot Theater.

There was another "first" that night at the Hot Theater:
Mark Nelson performed his solo Folk Music act in the lobby during intermission and after the show. Gregg Moore shouted "Let's go dig Mark!" in the dressing room, and we ran out to see him play his dulcimer and sing songs like:
Your daddy was a Basque, drank his liquor from a flask, and he lived out on the range in Eye-dah-HO!
The next night was even better -- I brightened up the lights, and everyone was hundreds of percentage points more confident. The theater was packed -- word had gotten around that something different was happening, and it was beautiful to see. Whatever moodiness happened onstage the second evening came from the music or actors, but not the lights in the hall. Mark's music was very pleasant to hear in the bar afterward -- his jaw harp and harmonica came into play too. He would soon book himself in Amsterdam's Folk Fairport club, and play again, whenever he could, at our other venues.

We had two more concerts booked besides De Melkweg and the rapidly-upcoming Festival of Fools. Our experience in The Hague infused a measure of confidence and energy in the group as a whole which were great antidotes to jet lag and homesickness
We were staying at Peter's apartment in the Oud West section of Amsterdam. It was a longer walk to De Melkweg from there, but not an unbearable stroll -- there was a tram stop nearby, and we had a bicycle or two on hand most of the time. The vehicles were available when needed, but converting liters and guilders to gallons and dollars was pretty scary, and we did almost no casual driving.
The best thing for me about the upcoming concerts was that they were close to the train stations in both Rotterdam and Haarlem.
I was able to get to them independently -- then find the loading zone, arrange for the dressing rooms, locate enough microphones and stands for everybody, and arrange the lighting before the rest of the Mime Troupe arrived with their own individual needs.
The loading zone in Rotterdam was a total nightmare -- it was off a tiny street, dating from the Middle Ages, and the alleyway was tighter than the road, which almost too narrow for horses. Other than that near-disaster, everything went really well at De Lantaren. The stage was on the floor, like the Hot Theater, but it thrust deep into the seats. The audience enjoyed their intimacy with our attractive performers, but as silliness led to seriousness, and Juggling led to soaring Dance, they alternately held their collective breath and gasped to the rhythms of the Great Salt Lake Mime Troupe's dynamics. There was no mad rush afterward, but dozens of people lingered to communicate their feelings of love and respect.
We would soon return to De Lantaren, but in a different context altogether (see below).
Haarlem's Toneelschuur was more of a Youth Club, like the Milky Way was supposed to be. They were a much smaller operation, and focused on their goals in a manner which wasn't so widely encompassing. The management and customers sure liked having fun, though! The recieved our blend of Circus, Mime, and Modern Dance with deep appreciation, but liked our band most of all -- They danced for as long as the musicians played after the main show.

Our band had incorporated Herbie Hancock's electro-funk masterpiece Chameleon in their repertory from Aspen onward.
His distinctive bass line had been driven by John Fischer's left hand on a spare keyboard we carted around for that limited purpose (it could have been a 60's vintage Farfisa organ), because bassist Gregg Moore played trombone during the long, jazzy number. That night, the public got a load of what we should have been doing months before -- our fabulous guitarist Paul Blackwell took over Gregg's unused Fender bass and drove that sinuous jam like an engineer drives an express train. After we played every song we knew, De Toneelschuur's technician took over the lighting booth, and threw some dance music on the reel-to-reel machine up there. There was a modern loading dock out the back, so we were packed and ready to go in less than an hour. I joined in the dancing on the floor, while the rest of the Troupers got dressed, and wandered around the venue sipping on good Dutch beer. By the time we were ready to leave, I had shaken my body and sweated away my inhibitions with every woman in the place, and was enjoying all those goodbye kisses until about 3:30 in the morning. During the half-hour drive back to Amsterdam, we noticed the sky getting light -- it was grey dawn when we disembarked at Peter's house. We hadn't realized until then how far north we were, and how summer was advancing fast.

I introduced myself, and politely invited Mr. Heron and Mr. LeMaistre to our upcoming premiere at the Milky Way.
They were quite intrigued when they heard how me and members of my group had seen the Incredible String Band in Salt Lake City during the spring of 1974.
"That was a really good show," said Heron, with a broad smile on his face.
I reminded LeMaistre of his own Mime performance in Utah.
"Crocodile!" he said with surprise and glee, as Heron laughed.
The ensuing conversation involved hearing how the Incredible String Band broke up in Memphis, Tennessee on the night of Nixon's resignation, while we were celebrating in LaCrosse, Wisconsin, at the International MIme Festival, hundreds of miles further up the Mississipi River.
"I wish I could have been there," said LeMaistre.
"That festival is the reason we're here right now," I said, and attempted to describe Jango's connection with Amsterdam.
I also told Heron and LeMaistre how their music had meant a great deal to me in my own life, and the eclecticism found in THEIR art was an important part of OUR art as well. After walking away from two of my musical heroes, I calmed down a bit by juggling -- maybe even earning some money too.

Program drafts by Kirke Wilson & Henk.

Henk and Charly didn't own a copy of Mott -- the follow-up to All The Young Dudes, but I couldn't forget or ignore Ian Hunter's lament about Mott the Hoople's own (temporary) breakup in the song Ballad Of Mott -- March 26th 1972 Zurich:
We crossed the mighty oceans and we had a few divides -- But we never crossed emotion for we felt too much inside.

I had most of the week free before the Great Salt Lake Mime Troupe started performing again, so I asked Michael Novotny what I could do to help him. He sat down and sketched designs for two sets of flats and some artificial waves. The paint and materials were there in the Shaffy already, so I said YES right away. Jango then gave me another task -- build a small city for the monstrous Palm Tree to destroy.
For the next month I spent almost all of my time between De Melkweg and the Shaffy Theater. I slept at Peter's place, but after a quick breakfast, and juggling practice at nearby Westerpark, I left to take care of my duties in BOTH buildings for the festival as an enity in itself, as well as my own group.
One set of Palm Tree's flats was to be tropical island scenes, with innocent palm trees leaning in towards center stage, ominously referring to the predatory sylvan creature lurking in the jungle. Another set was supposed to evoke a tramp steamer, carrying movie maker "Frederico Fungali" and his movie crew to the legendary haunted paradise ala King Kong.
Novotny played Fungali with Italianate brio, and relied on a crew of azoles to get things done -- like shift our curly-cue waves back and forth manually. With the Palm Tree stealthily chucking deadly coconuts all around him, his cast of azoles would thin out FAST. As the Friends Roadshow rehearsed their songs, and worked out their special effects, I put my Art School training to use -- sketching out the jungle scenes and puttting them aside since they required a lot of detail work. I borrowed a slide projector from Henk and Charly, plus a number of slides Henk had made of Amsterdam streets. (See the background of his cover above.) I then made yards of paper buildings that I could turn into the little city which was doomed to destruction. The first scenes I got done were the "Boat Flats" -- port holes, glass, rivets, and heavy doors were easy for me to draw, with just enough cast-shadows to make them look good under the theatrical lights. I even used my sable brush from Denver!

The English Friends performed an original puppet play in Dam Square, a special performance of Michael Spaghetti's Circus next to De Paradiso, plus a few indoor joint shows with their old mates from America.

The Great Salt Mime Troupe helped the Friends Roadshow get Teen Age Palm Tree going in the Groote Zaal on the first floor of the Shaffy Theater, but it was still THEIR show, and would succeed or fail based on what they did. One song was fun and interesting: Making movies is an art! It's not like sex, it's not so clean. It's all for fun, it's all for crap, and (Fungali) is the lonliest chap! Some things worked well, and some things didn't -- destroying the little city was funnier to talk about rather than see, and that riff was cut from the show after a couple of fizzles. The Mime Troupe was working two stories upstairs at the Shaffy, and I didn't have the time to paint anymore towns anyway. Charlz Jundo's slides of jungles and creatures came and went quickly too. There weren't as many azoles for Fungali to order around as he'd expected, but over the summer, Palm Tree developed a flow, and even the lunatic "cannibal sandwich" routine eventually worked itself out.

The second-floor theater space featured a small group of professionals called Ka' Theatre. Unfortunately they played when we did, and I rarely got a glimpse of their work, but what I saw was absolutely fascinating -- no fooling around at all!
They used minimal scenery and masks, with just a few well-chosen words. The show tended to be very "gay," very "out," and very unapologetic. They were well-mannered, hard-working artists who honored our building and festival with their show.

Everybody knows that Amsterdam is famous for legal cannibis in many forms, so I'm going to tell ONE story about that scene. Near the start of the Festival of Fools, Foxy, the baker of Hashish-bread at De Melkweg, announced he was going to make his special "grass candy" recipe one morning. I worked a particularly long hard day at the Shaffy afterwards. When I finally went downstairs, there were several colleagues complaining about being too high from Foxy's "treat," and how rueful they felt about performing later. As I walked towards De Melkweg late that afternoon, I met several clusters of friends and acquaintences having obvious difficulties getting back to work, and not knowing whether to laugh or cry about their situation. Luckily nobody in the Mime Troupe got the "opportunity" to try Foxy's candy, and we did a very good show. I never asked anybody who had been "bitten back" by their "sweet tooth" how that particular night went for them.

Thousands of individuals made the long climb to the third floor of the Shaffy just to witness the beauty of our show, and were well-rewarded by the experience. I'll admit to some occasional goof-ups, but nobody gave up on their art, no matter how they might have felt about one another, or the circumstances.
The Shaffy Zaal was painted a deep twilight blue, festooned with five-pointed stars which started clustering closer and closer towards the south side -- we were actually performing inside a painting done by famous Dutch keyboardist Thijs Van Leer of Focus fame. Screens covered the busy stellar climax at the south side, including the star-shaped door. There was plenty of room for musicians and dancers on the floor stage, and the rising seating was comfortable. Best of all, there was none of the Hashish smoke which had made De Melkweg so fun for the audience, but so tiring for us -- we did our best work breathing fresh air. We weren't all living at Peter's anymore either -- the imminent parting of our ways was on everybody's mind.

One of the Great Salt Lake Mime Troupe's last, and more interesting, venues in the summer of 1975 was outdoors in the courtyard of a ruined castle south and east of Amsterdam.
The place was named Brederode (pronounced Bray-Dah-Roh-Dah). Rob Weber of the Shaffy Theater accompanied us, and helped me set up my American lights for the second and final time in Europe. We also utilized some colored spotlights which had been strung on the old trees to help decorate the old pile of stone at night.
The audience sat on folding chairs, blankets on the ground, and even improvised lounges on the walls. They were all associated with a psychiatric school and clinic in a nearby town.
They saw some character-mime, and a little dancing -- the uneven ground was too hazardous for our longer set-pieces. Georgio was as entertaining as ever, but I still wondered what the audience was thinking as they watched, because we were NOT concealing our feelings that night.
Friends Roadshow performed there the next year, and Tumbleweeds from San Francisco played that gig in 1977. All three were sprawling multi-disciplinary amalgamations of musicians and performers -- make up your OWN mind!

(L) Friends Roadshow at Brederode in 1976.
(R) Tumbleweeds also played there in 1977.

The Festival of Fools reached its end on the 22nd of June in 1975. There was no big celebration or ceremony that year. The Friends Roadshow was heading off to La Rochelle, France. David Carillo and David Zupan went along as official members, plus Zupan enrolled for fall classes at Dimitiri's school in Ticino, Switzerland. Gregg managed to stay in Europe that summer too. George Kugler and Mark Nelson decided to go to Dublin, Ireland, where an Art Center was expecting word from the Great Salt Lake Mime Troupe. They each had their own talents, and worked out some new routines between them.
Patsy, Matt, John, Stuart, Debra, Paul and Jan went to the United States. Katie stayed in Europe, and even worked with Friends Roadshow. In fact, there was one last Mime Troupe show at a club called De Kosmos without Katie -- one of the few times they'd ever played without her since the founding of the group. I wasn't even there myself, I was spending time with a Dutch lady I'd met in one of my juggling workshops during the Festival, and we'd be together for most of the next two years.
The nearest thing to a Mime Troupe farewell for me was in a van riding back from one of our final gigs -- I was holding Katie in my arms while she was totally in tears. We never had any deeper relationship than as band-mates, but I told her I loved her, and said I should have told her more often over the years -- both of which are and were true.

When I got off the train at Liskeard, I called Steve Lawrence -- He, Paddy Haytor, and Joe Cunningham drove up from their farm at Trewen, and took my luggage and me to Elsie's Red Lion Pub for ONE beer. There was a live parrot sitting in a second-floor window across the street, and a jukebox in Elsie's -- I remember playing Elvis Presley's version of Chuck Berry's Jet to the Promised Land to general approval. When we finally got back to Trewen, my first task was helping to paint a banner for the top of Foots Barn's new tent. Read my Webpage about my adventures with Footsbarn.
And that lady from the train? She showed up with a few friends in St. Ives to see Foots Barn's show about a month later. Neeltje Van Dijk also came to see us at the end of the tour, and accompanied me back to Amsterdam on vacation.