Jim
04-03-01, 10:35 AM
[This was emailed to me by Lynneski. --Jim]
The Globe and Mail, Tuesday, April 3, 2001, Vancouver, BC
Send out the clowns, says Vancouver. Isn't it rich?
By Alexandra Gill
Bobus the Clown, a legendary fixture in Stanley Park for the past 15 years, went to his metaphorical grave on Saturday night. The cheerful entertainer in the polka-dot overalls choked on the same red tape that the new Vancouver Board of Trade revitalization campaign blamed at its inaugural meeting last week for strangling the spirit out of the city.
The clown's demise came after a prolonged and farcical battle with the Vancouver Parks Board, which had refused to grandfather his performer's permit after determining that Bobus was actually a balloon vendor, not an entertainer.
The memorial service was held on Sunday afternoon, at Bobus's old station in front of the Vancouver Aquarium, where Bjossa, the city's much-loved killer whale, was splashing out her final days in the park (she's being sent this month to Sea World San Diego where she can live with other whales). It was a sombre affair, presided over by Bobus's identical twin, Whoknows, a bronzed replica of Bobus, determined to preserve his brother's memory and carry on his fight for the languishing rights of street performers in Vancouver.
Whoknows, also played by 56-year-old Sterling Undem, erected a tombstone and handed out floppy, slingshot-like "Vancouver Fireworks" balloons, a symbolic memento of the city's recently departed Symphony of Fire.
"Don't be too sad," Whoknows said to young girl with a long face. "It's a tragedy now, but it's going to be a comedy. I'm going to show those bureaucrats just how silly they are."
The performers' permits Bobus fought for are themselves now extinct. The parks board has been phasing them out for several years and replacing them with new busking regulations that require performers to move to a new spot every 45 minutes and prohibit direct sales. The board claimed that the balloons he sold for $1 a piece could have a negative environmental impact on wildlife if swallowed.
Bobus isn't the only street performer in Vancouver to get caught in a growing tangle of bureaucratic regulations that limit street culture. Last summer, Sam Logan went on a hunger strike to protest against a new licensing system for Gastown street artists that limited the number of vendor permits to five and appointed a three-person jury to decide which artists would be granted the most coveted locations on the historic district's cobblestone sidewalks.
Logan, a landscape painter who has been sketching Gastown portraits at his pitch on the corner of Water and Abbott streets since 1993, was told he had to move to make way for the No. 2 winner, a painter specializing in Chinese calligraphy. The No.1-ranked artist was someone who paints names on individual grains of rice.
Fifty-six days and more than 13 lost kilograms later, Logan was given a new location for a two-year trial period. During the hunger strike, one local businessman who supported Logan offered the mayor a free trip to Quebec City so he could go see how other cities celebrate street life.
"Now they're spending all this money for a campaign to try to figure out how to make this a fun city," Logan grumbles. "Without us, there's nothing here -- just a steam clock and some restaurants. There could be a lot more artists and musicians or jugglers. People come to Gastown looking for that -- it's in all the tourist books."
Other Vancouver street performers have perished under the new busking regulations. Tom Comet, an internationally recognized stunt artist who juggles chain saws, balances a running lawn mower on his face and rides a 4-metre high unicycle while shooting flames out of his rear end, can no longer perform his hour-long show (which has been the subject of two documentaries) in Vancouver because the city's busking guidelines now prohibit the use of fire, sharp or dangerous objects, and amplified noise. Performers must also "refrain from requesting the crowd to cheer or yell."
"That really toasted my show," says Comet, who won the people's choice awards last year at international buskers' festivals in Halifax and Kingston, Ont.
On Sunday afternoon, as the children were saying goodbye to Bobus, a large colourful crowd tooting horns and waving flags was gathering in the park beside the Aquatic Centre on English Bay. It was the Fool's Society 21st annual April Fool's Day Parade. Many of the artists had sad stories to tell about how the police have forcibly removed them from corners around the city and confiscated their artist supplies. Others complained about a new busking system on Granville Island that forces performers to start lining up 6 a.m. and fight it out amongst themselves for the best spots.
But most were too busy tossing water balloons to worry. "This is the one day the city comes alive," Russ Styled whooped, as he adjusted the swimming goggles on his head and tooted his saxophone. "This is a carnival. It's anarchy."
And for performers like Bobus, Logan and Comet, that really is a joke.
agill@globeandmail.ca
The Globe and Mail, Tuesday, April 3, 2001, Vancouver, BC
Send out the clowns, says Vancouver. Isn't it rich?
By Alexandra Gill
Bobus the Clown, a legendary fixture in Stanley Park for the past 15 years, went to his metaphorical grave on Saturday night. The cheerful entertainer in the polka-dot overalls choked on the same red tape that the new Vancouver Board of Trade revitalization campaign blamed at its inaugural meeting last week for strangling the spirit out of the city.
The clown's demise came after a prolonged and farcical battle with the Vancouver Parks Board, which had refused to grandfather his performer's permit after determining that Bobus was actually a balloon vendor, not an entertainer.
The memorial service was held on Sunday afternoon, at Bobus's old station in front of the Vancouver Aquarium, where Bjossa, the city's much-loved killer whale, was splashing out her final days in the park (she's being sent this month to Sea World San Diego where she can live with other whales). It was a sombre affair, presided over by Bobus's identical twin, Whoknows, a bronzed replica of Bobus, determined to preserve his brother's memory and carry on his fight for the languishing rights of street performers in Vancouver.
Whoknows, also played by 56-year-old Sterling Undem, erected a tombstone and handed out floppy, slingshot-like "Vancouver Fireworks" balloons, a symbolic memento of the city's recently departed Symphony of Fire.
"Don't be too sad," Whoknows said to young girl with a long face. "It's a tragedy now, but it's going to be a comedy. I'm going to show those bureaucrats just how silly they are."
The performers' permits Bobus fought for are themselves now extinct. The parks board has been phasing them out for several years and replacing them with new busking regulations that require performers to move to a new spot every 45 minutes and prohibit direct sales. The board claimed that the balloons he sold for $1 a piece could have a negative environmental impact on wildlife if swallowed.
Bobus isn't the only street performer in Vancouver to get caught in a growing tangle of bureaucratic regulations that limit street culture. Last summer, Sam Logan went on a hunger strike to protest against a new licensing system for Gastown street artists that limited the number of vendor permits to five and appointed a three-person jury to decide which artists would be granted the most coveted locations on the historic district's cobblestone sidewalks.
Logan, a landscape painter who has been sketching Gastown portraits at his pitch on the corner of Water and Abbott streets since 1993, was told he had to move to make way for the No. 2 winner, a painter specializing in Chinese calligraphy. The No.1-ranked artist was someone who paints names on individual grains of rice.
Fifty-six days and more than 13 lost kilograms later, Logan was given a new location for a two-year trial period. During the hunger strike, one local businessman who supported Logan offered the mayor a free trip to Quebec City so he could go see how other cities celebrate street life.
"Now they're spending all this money for a campaign to try to figure out how to make this a fun city," Logan grumbles. "Without us, there's nothing here -- just a steam clock and some restaurants. There could be a lot more artists and musicians or jugglers. People come to Gastown looking for that -- it's in all the tourist books."
Other Vancouver street performers have perished under the new busking regulations. Tom Comet, an internationally recognized stunt artist who juggles chain saws, balances a running lawn mower on his face and rides a 4-metre high unicycle while shooting flames out of his rear end, can no longer perform his hour-long show (which has been the subject of two documentaries) in Vancouver because the city's busking guidelines now prohibit the use of fire, sharp or dangerous objects, and amplified noise. Performers must also "refrain from requesting the crowd to cheer or yell."
"That really toasted my show," says Comet, who won the people's choice awards last year at international buskers' festivals in Halifax and Kingston, Ont.
On Sunday afternoon, as the children were saying goodbye to Bobus, a large colourful crowd tooting horns and waving flags was gathering in the park beside the Aquatic Centre on English Bay. It was the Fool's Society 21st annual April Fool's Day Parade. Many of the artists had sad stories to tell about how the police have forcibly removed them from corners around the city and confiscated their artist supplies. Others complained about a new busking system on Granville Island that forces performers to start lining up 6 a.m. and fight it out amongst themselves for the best spots.
But most were too busy tossing water balloons to worry. "This is the one day the city comes alive," Russ Styled whooped, as he adjusted the swimming goggles on his head and tooted his saxophone. "This is a carnival. It's anarchy."
And for performers like Bobus, Logan and Comet, that really is a joke.
agill@globeandmail.ca