My Life as a Furry Red Monster - Kevin Clash [27]
Puppeteer Matt Vogel operated the tricycle via a small black box with an antenna and some switches. I used a radio-controller mitt to transmit signals to Elmo. Out he rode across the set, his legs pumping as he pedaled his colorful tricycle. I flashed back to when I’d taught Shannon to ride hers.
Matt had Elmo circle around the set and I had him turn his head, laughing gleefully, to look at all of us standing there like proud parents.
I love technology and am a gadget guy, and I pride myself on being pretty good at figuring out mechanical things, but I would never have been able to build an Elmo like this one! I wondered a bit about how that loss of the physical connection between us would influence my performance. I’m a hands-on performer, and this was revolutionary.
Advances like this in technology allow us to be more creative in our work. Executive producer Carol-Lynn Parente was so pleased with how this new Elmo had turned out that she had writer Molly Boylan and music director Mike Renzi create a song for him to sing as he rode his tricycle. When we finally filmed this scene, I directed and was especially pleased when Carol-Lynn and longtime director Ted May told me how much they’d liked it. We’d hit the right creative mix: classic music and lyrics, complemented by dazzling high-tech touches.
By embracing these new technologies, we’re making Elmo real for millions of viewers. We wouldn’t be able to do “Elmo’s World” without blue-and green-screen technology, which allows us to enter characters into scenes and environments digitally (think of Elmo swimming in a fishbowl with Dorothy or flying through the sky as an Elmo pterodactyl that would otherwise be impossible, or too expensive, to produce without computers. These recent innovations are really no different from the standard lighting that illuminates our stage, or the sound and video editing machines that we use daily. Behind-the-scenes people like Dick Maitland, who does our sound effects, as well as the legions of staffers who operate the equipment, whether it’s low tech or straight out of a computer lab, are no less creative than the performers and the writers. It takes the creative efforts of many to keep Sesame Street vital for a new generation of viewers.
My life growing up on New Pittsburgh Avenue wasn’t so different from life on Sesame Street. Although I didn’t have a dedicated professional educator like Rosemarie or a staff of writers, technicians, and directors, I did have my family, who helped me in all phases of the creation of my shows. I even had my own research team—the kids in my mother’s daycare were always my first and toughest audience. I knew if I could make them laugh and hold their attention, then I was ready to take my show on the road.
Back then, each day began with the arrival of children—and that’s the way it is on Sesame Street. And now, as then, I do my best to spark a fire and light their abundant imaginations.
MY PARENTS FED my creativity in a variety of ways, and I have tried to do the same thing with my daughter, Shannon, who happens to share my love of drawing. It’s one of the things we did together when she was very young. One of my favorite activities was helping Shannon draw her day. We’d get out some paper and markers, and we’d go through her entire day, drawing scenes depicting each of the things she had done.
“So,” I’d begin. “What’s the first thing you did when you got up this morning?”
“I brushed my teeth, Daddy,” she’d say, gripping her marker.
“Okay then, Sha. Let’s see you draw that.”
And off she’d go, making a picture of herself brushing her teeth, playing with a doll, eating her grilled cheese. In every picture, she’d always include her beloved dog, Buddy.
I loved the look of pleasure that washed across her face while she worked, the intense focus that softened into delight when she was done with each drawing. In looking at her, I saw myself as a child, the same feelings of satisfaction poured through me as I drew and created and built.
There’s a certain sweet magic