Grace Howe Photos.
The soft patter of a drum set the scene into motion. In the background, birds tweeted. The wind blew softly. The whisper of a maraca entered the fray. At center stage, the “oldest storyteller of all time,” a puppet called Brother Rabbit, spoke excitedly to the crowd. Wisely, the rabbit told the story of the race between a rabbit and a turtle—which ends with a lesson in the meaning of quality friendship over quantity of friends.
On Saturday, puppeteer Iyaba Ibo Mandingo and friends rolled into the Stetson Branch of the New Haven Free Public Library for a puppet show, part of the library’s ongoing celebration of Black History Month. The show took place on the second floor of 197 Dixwell Ave. location and included puppets, music and song, contributions from audience members, and snacks and refreshments for all who attended.
In addition to puppeteer, artist, and educator Iyaba Ibo Mandingo, musicians and educators Luke Rodney and George Schneider helped bring the performance to life. Throughout the event, Ibo Mandingo referred to them as Baba Luke and Baba George, titles meant to convey reverence and respect. The term is used among several West African cultures, often at the heart of Ibo Mandingo’s artmaking.
“Baba is a name you give an elderly man in your village,” Ibo Mandingo said. “It acts as a sign of respect but also of affection and care.”
Ibo Mandingo’s focus on learning was visible from the earliest moments of his show, as he and colleagues turned the library’s second floor into an interactive stage. Reaching for a puppet he had named Ajá—that is the Yoruba word for dog—he began to tell a story of a dog content with a bone, slowly making his way back home. All was well in this world, until Ajá saw another dog with a similar bone, and decided to bark at it.
“I’m gonna give this dog one of my best growls!” Ibo Mandingo said, and he was at once himself and the puppet. Ajá growled fiercely, and the other dog growled back. Ajá barked, and suddenly his bone fell away, tumbling from his jaw into a pool of water below. It was only then that he realized he’d been barking at his reflection.
“I realize that sometimes, it’s ok to not want everything,” Ajá said through Ibo Mandingo. “Because when you want everything,” you lose sight of what you already have.
As the audience settled in, he tied in his own Afro-Caribbean roots, nodding to the sheer breadth of a diaspora and the importance of Caribbean folklore in his own artmaking. Ibo Mandingo hails originally from Antigua; Rodney and Schneider are from Trinidad and Tobago and St. John’s respectively. During his performances, Ibo Mandingo noted that in the Caribbean, things like music and food are more alike than they are different.
As Schneider tapped out a beat on his djembe, all three wove a narrative thread from West Africa to the Caribbean, where the heartbeat of a drum took on dozens of shapes, timbres and personalities. As he spoke, he slowed the motion of his hands, making the djembe whisper and groan just slightly.
“That’s the ocean that we crossed many years ago,” he said of the sound. It was as if a gentle rain had started falling beneath his palms. Minutes later, Rodney would fold in the sound of Trinidad and Tobago with his steelpan.
“This is where we got in trouble,” offered Ibo Mandingo. “Cause the minute it was realized that we talked with these—” he tapped a hand drum “—and we were talking back and forth,” that’s when people started to take away drums to limit communication.
It was a primer for over an hour of audience participation, including a retelling of Aesop’s fables that made space for Black people and Black stories (it is not a coincidence that one of the puppets is named Aesop Diop, a Wolof surname that is common in Senegal). Taking volunteers from the audience, Ibo Mandingo lifted handcrafted masks from the nearby bookshelf, transforming young listeners into fearsome animals. Two young boys, for instance, became a crocodile and a scorpion.
“Once you put the mask on, you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing you,” he said with a little grin. As the volunteers waited for directions, he snapped into teacher mode, complementing a young attendee on his Afro as he told a story of mothers weaving seeds into their childrens’ hair with the fear that they would be kidnapped and experience hunger. He checked in on the kid’s classes, asking about school before the skit ever began.
“You are a Black boy on your way to becoming a Black man,” he said, explaining that he hoped to empower the boys as part of his work. “When we know who we are, we fly.”
The show explored classic fables such as the story of the Crocodile and the Scorpion, the Tortoise and the Hare, and the Lion and the Mouse, with puppet masks at the ready to accompany each one. Although they seemed simple, they came with lessons each time, and allowed the audience to stay engaged. With each new story, volunteer actors from the audience jumped in, becoming part of New Haven’s present Black history as they assisted the puppets in telling the story.
In one, for instance, a scorpion asks a crocodile for a ride across a river. The crocodile initially rejects the request, and reminds the scorpion that if he were to sting him, they’d both drown. When the scorpion promises it won’t, the crocodile agrees. They make it halfway across before the scorpion stings him, and they both go down.
“Maya Angelou famously said, ‘When somebody shows you who they are, believe them,’” Ibo Mandingo said afterwards. “So when you feel danger, recognize that you feel danger and trust your instincts.”
He then spoke directly to the parents, “Parents, watch your children because they are magical beings, and if you watch them really closely, you will see exactly why they came to this planet. If you focus on nurturing them and teaching them the importance of moral values, you will never have to worry about their success in the world.”
That lesson remained close as he pressed forward, reminding attendees that it’s better to have one good friend than many friends who are friends with you for the wrong reason. He recalled the story of the Tortoise and the Hare, in which the hare allows the tortoise to win a race so that he will look like a fool, and the whole school will cheer on the hare. He invited in the tale of the Lion and the Mouse, when the lion spares the mouse but never expects to need the mouse's favor in return. When its paw—and life—are saved by the mouse, he learns that big things come in small packages and to never judge a book by its cover.
With every narrative turn , the three men on stage brought each story to life, with live and accurate depictions of animal noises, and instrumental hums that turned into environmental sound effects. The performance had the entire audience on its toes and bridged a gap between ages, races, and culture, celebrating Black history and the history of Black culture in and beyond the U.S..
“Your job is to keep your inner kid and never give it up because that’s where the joy is,” Ibo Mandingo said. He later added that “The biggest thing is showing the kids that you can take everything out from your imagination, really big humongous things and they get into that and then you see them become fearless when it comes to what they want to try and that to me is beyond important.”
Ibo Mandingo is not only a puppeteer but also a poet, visual artist, writer, musician, and seamstress. Growing up with grandparents who were both seamstresses, he learned how to sew very early in life. Now, he makes his very own puppets, bringing his very own characters to life.
In education, Ibo Mandingo said he believes the role of puppets does wonders, by keeping young learners not only engaged but also excited and imaginative with their studies. On Saturday, the presence of puppets helped teach young people about the things that are beyond themselves, and within celebrating Black History Month, also celebrating the unity within humanity.
“We are not historians, we are the keepers of our people’s history,” he said, “Today is the 39th day of celebrating Black history this year,” pointing to the celebration being practiced year round, not just in the month of February.
“The language of the drums were really able to draw in the children today,” said Beaver Hills Alder Gary Hogan, “They were able to have this character from Iyaba who makes the whole show go so seamlessly, and they get to learn about their roots in something different than technology.”
Hogan is also the exalted ruler of Elks Club East Rock Lodge, which has joined forces with Stetson Library to put on a series of community events . Since the beginning of the partnership, Stetson has been able to host a “History of Hip Hop” night, parties in honor of Kwanzaa, and look forward to hosting teen hang out nights along with additional events celebrating Black history during the month of February.
“Stetson is really a place where we can preserve our culture and our history,” Hogan said. “When Iyaba comes and performs he really helps us do that.”
Grayce Howe was the Arts Paper's 2024 New Haven Academy spring intern and is now in her senior year. The New Haven Academy internship is a program for NHA juniors that pairs them with a professional in a field that is interesting to them. Grayce plans to continue writing for the Arts Paper throughout her senior year, so keep an eye out for her byline in these pages! Lucy Gellman contributed reporting.