Jim Letchworth :: Commedia Celt Wars

From the Fools Guild List January 18 2000

The Commedia Celt Wars

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.... you do remind me of the Commedia-Celtic War or the Italian-Scottish War of 1979.
Funny, that I just saw Simon Spalding's name flash by; it was Simon's miscue that started events rolling downhill. La Famiglia Bologna rotated on three different stages at the northern faire. On the mainstage, we were followed by the Scotts or Celts, as think they were called then. The Scotts always paraded through the Faire to their show and were always early (we would never be late). This was before radios, so Terry, our mainstage stage manager, of the I-5 bus fame, arranged for Simon, the friendliest and most levelheaded Scott to lead the parade and hold the Scotts at the "top of the house," till the commedia was done.

Well, one day, the Scotts were way early, Simon misread the action onstage, he cued the band and they paraded, bagpipes wailing, drums pounding, down the center aisle through the middle of our show. What could we do? We retreated offstage. We were outnumbered and outgunned. Simon came marching with a sheepish grin on his face, realizing his mistake. Backstage, he quickly apologized.

However, and this may come as a shock to you, but, there were a number of folks in the Scotts who took themselves way too seriously and tossed some provocative comments. We were pissed and this was just fuel on the fire. Not to be outdone, we had a few hotheads of our own, including Ed Holmes who not about to let his art be impugned by military wannabes.

Now, 1979 Northern Faire was the year of the Commedia, there were three troupes, the Bolognas, Gillian Bagwell & Bret Kuhn (who did Pantalone for me in 1980) and a troupe led by our own fire-breathing radical Capitano, David Springhorn. As word spread of the great offense we "Italians" had suffered, the form revenge would take was nebulous, but the target was clear. A confrontation would take place, we would wait for another day, but it had to be in the streets; we even rehearsed a few bits, after all, we were actors. We recruited every motley we could find and formed The Italian Army.

We waited.

We knew when the Scotts were parading in the afternoon, after their show. Our ragtag army fell in behind them. Oh, we mocked them, we were merciless, we were cruel, we were funny; they were such a ripe target. It was great theater, the crowd loved it.

Then the Scotts got mad, they did an about face, lowered their pikes and charged. It was a little less funny, but we kept up, we were good at taunting. It seems to me they charged us a couple of times, we got good at "advance to the rear." Finally, near the archery booth, the old Scottish warhorse of a leader came back to us (darned if I can remember his name) dropped his character, if he ever had one, and stared yelling at us about our "lack of respect" as I recall.

Well, who should come to fore for us, but our Capitano, David Springhorn. Oh, and he was angry too. I will never forget the image of those two firebrands, nose to nose jawing in the middle of the street, under the spreading laurel trees. Ed, of course was right there too, I thought it would come to blows. It didn't; just as well. Faire security finally broke it up and sent the two armies in opposite directions. We Italians went and celebrated our victory and no one interrupted a commedia again for many years to come. And that is the story of the Commedia-Celtic war of 1979.

Jim