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PURCHASE TICKETS ONLINE
Tickets for
"Comedy in Motion" and
"The Comedy of Charlie Chaplin"
are
on sale here
or order by phone at
Performing Arts Center Ticket Office
937-328-3874 (toll-free 866-PAC-TKTS)
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An Interview with Dan Kamin
Dan answers questions about his
background, his interest in comedy, his performances, and his
upcoming visit to Springfield.
What got you interested in the type of stuff you do?
I'm overly susceptible to movies. As a kid, I saw the movie
Houdini with Tony Curtis, and I promptly became a boy magician.
In college at Carnegie Mellon I saw a Chaplin film, and I became a
silent comedian. Your readers will be relieved to know that I've
never seen The Boston Strangler.
How did you learn magic?
I grew up in Miami, a notoriously crime-ridden city then as now. I
was taken under the wing of various shady criminal-types who liked
to show off their skills at cardsharping and such to a goggle-eyed
kid. I became fascinated with the mechanics of deception, which
naturally enough led me to a career in show business.
Why did you want to be a performer?
I was desperate for money, and I couldn't get the job I really
wanted, which was to be a bagboy or stock clerk at the local
supermarket. Those guys had cars, and girlfriends. The best I could
do was magic shows at the birthday parties of hyperkinetic,
sugar-crazed children. Unfortunately, I soon learned that girls
tended to be repelled by magicians.
When I was sixteen my gambler friends offered me a job as a dealer
on the cruise boats, but somehow I couldn't see myself as a boy
criminal. Instead I tried to find fame by performing at local talent
shows. I never won a single one, but I did make it onto The Ted
Mack Original Amateur Hour, the American Idol of its day,
on which I lost on national TV to a group of four sailors singing
"Blue Moon."
After you saw that Chaplin film in college how did you go
about learning to do physical comedy?
At first I had no idea. I read some books about Charlie Chaplin, but
they didn’t help. Then I met a man named Jewel Walker, a world-class
mime artist who taught in the world-class drama department at
Carnegie Mellon, where I was studying industrial design. I realized
that mime was where silent movie comedy had gone, so I attached
myself to Jewel like a leech, becoming the sorcerer’s apprentice.
Just as I once spent hours learning how to manipulate coins and
cards, now I learned how to create illusions and tell stories in
movement, thus completely ruining my chances of leading a normal
life.
Is it just you in your performances?
Usually there's also an audience. I refuse to go on if I outnumber
the audience.
 You
often perform with symphonies. Do you play an instrument?
I play the buffoon. Symphonies are so desperate to attract audiences
that they turn to charlatans like me. By adding visual comedy and
silent storytelling, I cheapen the classical experience and make it
great fun for everyone except for the conductor. I did this several
years ago with the Springfield Symphony Orchestra at the Summer Arts Festival,
and as a result Peter Stafford Wilson will surely hate me to his
dying day.
What can the audience expect at one of your performances?
A lifetime of regret.
You’re doing a residency in Springfield before your
performance. What does that entail?
The Springfield Arts Council is basically unleashing me on the town
for a whole week. I'll freak people out by strolling through public
places in slow motion. I'll be the worse luncheon speaker the Rotary
has ever had. And I'll also do some shows in schools, to teach kids the
importance of irrational thought.
Is this your first performance in Springfield?
No, but it will almost certainly be my last.
What was it like working with Robert Downey Jr. and Johnny
Depp?
It was a dream come true to work in movies. Classic movies inspired
me, and I came full circle by adding classic visual comedy to modern
films. By the way, I taught Johnny Depp how to roll the coin around
his fingers the way he does at the end of Pirates of the
Caribbean. He became my magic apprentice while we were working
on Benny and Joon. But does he call? Never.
Do you think it takes a certain person to be able to pull
off the type of performance required for these roles?
All it takes is the willingness to endure public ridicule.
How often do you come up with new performances?
I come up with new ones whenever I'm artistically inspired, or
someone offers me money. Which may be the same thing, come to think
of it.
What other types of places do you perform?
I’ve performed in just about every imaginable setting—factories, the
streets of London and in mental hospitals. For the patients, I
hasten to add, not as a patient.
What makes these different that performing for a huge
audience in a theater?
I love performing for hospital patients or old people because they
can't run very fast. Large audiences tend to turn into angry mobs of
screaming, torch-bearing villagers out for my blood.
Have you ever been in any movies yourself?
I did cameos in Chaplin and Benny and Joon, and played
a wooden Indian who came to life in the film Creepshow 2. I
also played a small, uncredited role in D.W. Griffith’s film The
Birth of a Nation.
Wait, wasn’t The Birth of a Nation made in 1915?
Don’t quibble.
Do you have a favorite performance?
The next one.
Do you have any suggestions for anyone interested in this
type of performing?
Seek counseling at once.
More about Dan at
dankamin.com
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