How Childish – The Winnipeg International Children’s Festival

June 16th, 2010 | Posted by Jacquie Crone
out of 5  Loading ...

Share this:

• Facebook
• Twitter
• Delicious
• DIGG

• More...

Children find it funny to stick their fingers in their noses, and funnier still if they can get their finger into your nose. And they ride teeny bicycles. Clowns tend to be the same. They both give me the shivers – and for most of my life I’ve made an art out of avoiding them. Some might say it was fate, then, that Travel Manitoba suggested I check out Kidsfest 2010.

Every June, for the past 28 years, the Winnipeg International Children’s Festival (WICF) has made it their mandate to push the boundaries as to how much fun children (or those of us who struggle with maturity) are entitled to. The 4-day festival, dubbed Kidsfest, keeps growing, and this year the Executive Director, Neal Rempel, proudly trotted out 30 acts, which translated into over 120 performances, all aimed at wowing the younger set.

The WICF was the brainchild of Mitch Podolak and “Red River” Bill Merritt, of Winnipeg Folk Festival and local music scene fame, and Colin Jackson from the Prairie Theatre Exchange. 28 years is noteworthy. I suspect some of the guardians in attendance had originally been kiddies at those early-days shows. Perhaps they sat in strollers at Assiniboine Park, the Festival’s original location, or later on at Kildonan Park. The WICF moved to its current site at the Forks National Historic Park in 1990.

On the day I set out for my inaugural WICF experience the thunderclouds were boiling on the horizon and it was already drizzling (this is starting to become a familiar and most unwelcome trend this year). I had enlisted my nephew’s photogenic family, Bennie (3), Liam (1) and their wrangler/mother Ange, to join me so that I could attempt to see the show through a ‘child’s eyes’.

I had no idea what to expect, so when I arrived at The Forks to find the ample parking lots packed, I decided this was a formidable gathering of mothers that really wanted to get out of the house. I had a couple of hours to do some photography before my model family arrived. My ticket allowed me onto the site and from there I could take in as many shows as I could manage. I’d circled a selection of performances listed in my program, (which Liam eventually ate), that sounded as though they’d be interesting.

The WICF is set up very much like the Winnipeg Folk Festival in that there are many stages, most under big tops, to protect its precious inhabitants from the glare of sun, or in this case – rain. My first stop was Tent 3 to see Hilby, The Skinny German Juggle Boy. I had arrived a few minutes late so I struggled to keep a low profile in the now crowded tent. The noise was astounding: peals of laughter, squeals, and collective screaming. Obviously, Hilby was a hit with the kids and as I snaked my way to center front, as unobtrusively as I could, I started to listen.

Hilby is a gangly goof and visually, he vibrates. Verbally, he’s positively irreverent, and on every other level – totally engaging. He has the innate ability to make the kids crazy with joy and at the same time slide on that slippery slope that Monty Python perfected and adults revere.

Having said that, I have a bone to pick with Hilby. So he’d best beware.

You see, while he was performing, I had the audacity to pop up, quickly turn and take a picture of the laughing crowd. Hilby was busy juggling knives while balancing on a unicycle, and yet he noticed me. Teasingly he asked: “vhy aren’t you vatching me!!” (I’m sorry; my fake German accent doesn’t translate well into the written word). Off the stage he bounced, while I tried to blend in with the 5-year olds. Unbelievably, the lederhosen-clad “skinny German”, wrestled my very precious camera out of my hands.

Quick as a bunny he was back on stage again, juggling knives and – umm, my camera. The crowd was so enjoying this – I was somewhat less than amused. Hilby assured me he hadn’t dropped anything lately. He then took a toilet plunger “vitch has hardly ever been used” plunked my camera on the plunger bit, and balanced the whole business on the end of his nose. The crowd went wild. My teeth were grinding and yet my brain told me “this guy juggles chain saws, what are the odds he’ll drop my camera?” The story ended happily, I got my camera back, but not before he snapped a pic of me with the most unappealing look on my face (and no, I’m not including it in the blog). Quickly, the crowd turned its attention to some other zany antic. That’s when I started to get a tiny headache.

From there I made my way to the main tent. Fred Penner is a slick and flawless performer and, as always, a crowd pleaser. Again the huge tent was packed to the rafters. I was impressed and a little touched that Fred – the star, invited a little 3’ high guy, sporting a mini acoustic guitar, on stage to share the limelight. Apparently this was a come-back performance as the little rocker played with Fred when he was only 2’ high.

Next I’m off to meet up with my model family, whom I hope to hurry along so as to see Ache Brasil, a troupe of dancers and musicians that incorporates acrobatics, self-defence tactics and: “breath-taking kicks” into their program. Unquote.

I guess anyone who has children just had a little guffaw at my expense after reading that. One does not hurry along 1 and 3-year old children. Apparently, gum stuck on the sidewalk has more appeal than death-defying kicks. Then, of course there’s the busker who has a whistle and a corrugated washboard vest that he can strum with his fingers. That can pretty much kill an afternoon when you have children in tow. Jeez.

Eventually Ange and I herded the kids towards the tent where Ache Brasil was playing. I was instantly absorbed into the crowd, intent on finding a good spot to get a photo. I hunkered down mid-crowd with the smell of candyfloss and loaded diapers confusing my senses. I enjoyed following Ache Brasil through my lens as they were colourfully attired, athletic and, well, pretty buff. The crowd was energized and I liked that too. The tiny girl next to me chose to watch me instead though, and rested her elbow possessively on my shoulder the whole time. That added an element to a photo shoot that I’m not used to – and only once did she put her little, sticky pink finger on my viewfinder.

Only later did I find out that my charges for the day got immediately distracted and toddled off with their ever-attentive mom to see the police car with the shiny lights. Then, seconds later, when that got boring, they went off to play in the sand at the Parks Canada tent: “Kids Dig History At The Forks!” The little boys were oblivious to the big acts, but the WICF already knew that and had set aside huge areas just for them. There was face painting, clowns on stilts twisting balloons into poodle and giraffe shapes, kite flying, squishy clay to mould and muck about in, hoops laden with colourful cloth just for crawling through – and on and on.

It’s pretty clear that after 28 years the WICF have it all figured out. Everyone from tots to teens to thoughtful moms and dads, to those of us who still have a hankering to laugh out loud might want to circle their calendars NOW for next June’s Winnipeg International Children’s Festival. See you there.

You can send me an email at jacquie.crone@gmail.com or, if you’re not shy, leave a comment for all of us to share.