Autumn color
An autumn morning in the studio with Borges

Guest post: Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

Christopher Leith A Tribute to Christopher Leith

by Howard Gayton

Last week, I heard the sad news that Christopher Leith, a master of puppet theatre in Britain, had died from the complications of motor neurone disease, which he developed in 2013. In addition to his many other accomplishments, Christopher was the Artistic Director at the Little Angel theatre in London, where I worked regularly in the 1990s and developed many of my own ideas about the art of puppetry due to his mentorship, and so I want to share some thoughts on the life and art of this puppet master.

Christopher's deep obsession with puppets went right back to his childhood. "The family didn't approve," he told Chandra Masoliver in a recent interview; "my stepfather said I was 'playing with dolls.' Retrospectively, I think I was creating a world I could control, but as I reached my teens, puppeteering changed from being a need to being a vocation." He studied theatre design at Wimbledon School of Arts in London, acting at Dartington College of Arts in Devon, and apprenticed in puppet design and manipulation under John & Lyndie Wright of London's Little Angel Theatre.

Nzua puppet by Christopher LeithIn addition to his long association with the Little Angel, Chris' work with puppets was so extensive that I can only touch on a few highlights here. He played many different roles in his work: he designed and carved puppets; he wrote, directed, and performed in numerous puppet productions; he taught and mentored younger puppeteers; and he worked in film (with Jim Henson, Lotte Reiniger, Disney Studios, and others), although theatre remained his first love. He was Resident Puppeteer for the National Theatre, and worked with many other companies, large and small, including the Royal Shakespeare Company, the Royal Opera House, English National Opera, the London Palladium and Polka Theatre. His puppets, sculptures and drawings have been exhibited at the National Theatre, the British Museum, the V&A Museum and other venues. Chris also loved music: he trained in Gregorian chant with Dr. Mary Berry, and performed regularly with the Schola Gregoriana. To learn more, go here (and scroll down the page) for a time-line of his career.

Chris Leith

Chris came into my life when I was a young puppeteer & director -- discouraged by the difficult dynamics of one of my earliest jobs in the field and considering giving up puppetry altogether. He brought me into the Little Angel team and re-ignited my love for the form. "There is a spirit in every object that has magic in it," Christopher Howard Gayton at the Little Angel Theatreliked to say. "A puppet is like a little nest where the spirits can come down, enjoy being and dance there. Puppets have no free will, a puppet comes to life when it is picked up and it dies when it is put down an empty shell. Puppets exist in a state which is both alive and dead at the same moment…that’s why puppetry is the most beguiling of all the theatre arts; and the best puppeteers are the ones who let the audience dream in the strongest way."

In paying my tribute to this kind and gentle man, I'd like to describe the very first exercise he taught me, for it has stuck with me over all these years and proven to be instrumental in my personal approach to puppetry. The exercise is ridiculously simple on the surface, but has great depths of meaning and philosophy beneath:

We begin by sitting in stillness. I ask you, the student, to simply sit and look at your puppet. (Chris often used an old doll-like puppet; when I teach, I use an old bit of cloth.)

Puppets for 3 Stages of LazarusDon't touch the puppet, not yet. Centre yourself by concentrating on your breath, and then make a connection with the puppet through your eyes alone. Now use your imagination to make an energetic connection to the puppet through your lower energy centre, just below your navel -- what the Taoists call the Dan Tien. And then, when you're ready, when the moment feels right, move your hand gently to rest on the puppet. “The first moment of connection is special,” I remember Chris saying. “It is when you are giving the puppet life.”

After touching the puppet, allow the rise and fall of your breathing to transfer into it. This is what moves the puppet into motion, the sacred connection between puppet and puppeteer. “Each time you make that contact with the puppet,” Chris would remind us, “you are giving life.”

And there it is, at the heart of this simple, powerful exercise: the Creation Myth.

In the beginning, the Gods took a handful of moist clay and crafted a human form. They breathed life into it through its nostrils and gave it consciousness....

Art doesn't get much more profound than this: the creation of life. The creation of the world.

3 Stages for Lazarus, Christopher Leith

"Now," Chris would say at the end of the exercise, "center yourselves once again, and when it feels right, slowly withdraw your hand from the puppet...." For of course, the puppets we infuse with our breath and consciousness become inert again when the story is done. You’ve brought the puppet to life, allowed it to explore its world, but now that life has to be taken back. If the giving of life is a powerfully mythic moment, the ending of it is perhaps even more so. The circle has completed itself.

The power of Chris' exercise was brought home to me a couple of years ago when I used it to teach a small group of puppeteers I was working with for the first time. One of the puppeteers had suffered a miscarriage not long before, and the symbolic gesture of giving life to her puppet...and then withdrawing it...moved her deeply. I was reminded, once again, that working with puppets is not a frivolous thing, for puppets (like masks) touch our consciousness on a deep archetypal level.

Puppets by Christopher Leith (2nd photograph by Manuel Vasquez)

A willing "suspension of disbelief" is an integral part of all forms of theatre, but this is multiplied ten-fold with puppetry. Whether you are using a beautifully crafted puppet, a rough knock-about one, or simply a piece of cloth or lump of wood, the audience will see it as a real-life character if it's manipulated by a skilled puppeteer: a character conveying all the triumphs and tragedies inherent in the human condition. The Christopher Leith, 3 Stages for Lazarus rehearsal, 2015audience laughs at a puppet's foolishness, and is brought to tears by its struggles. Through the carefully crafted illusion that brings puppets to life, children are transported to a magical, mythical realm...and adults are turned into children again, submersed in the Otherworld of make believe.

Although Chris began showing symptoms of motor neurone diesease in 2013, he continued to work with puppets in whatever ways his failing strength allowed: he could no longer carve, or manipulate the puppets, but he still directed, taught, championed the art form wherever and whenever he could, and served as Patron of The Curious School of Puppetry. Guy Dartnell has been organising the effort to archive and document Chris' work. (There's a Facebook page for updates on this.) And Chris' final production, 3 Stages for Lazarus, is scheduled to debut at the Suspense Festival at the Little Angel next week.

Go here to read about the production in an article by Chandra Masoliver. And go here to see a fascinating interview filmed earlier this year by Guy Dartnell. Chris discusses puppetry, carving, his final projects, and living with motor neurone disease, interspersed with clips  from his 'Beowulf' (1971), and a glimpse of his puppetry workshop.

In the short video below (filmed four months ago), Christopher's last puppet is brought to life:

"The back of Lazarus was the last piece of carving I ever did," Chris said. "To see it coming to life in this way is magical; it’s beautiful. I started working on Lazarus in 2010, well before any signs of motor neurone disease. I heard the words ‘fixed and cannot move’ in a song; that’s how puppets are -- and are not. Lazarus is about the fragility of life."

Star Maiden puppet by Christopher Leith

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits, and

Are melted into air, into thin air:

And like the baseless fabric of this vision, 

The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff

As dreams are made on; and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.

The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 148–158

Chris, wherever you are now, in the circle of life and death, thank you. You'll never be forgotten.

Christopher Leith 1947-2015

About the author of this Guest Post: Howard Gayton is a puppeteer, a dramatist (specializing in mask theatre), and a tutor at the Curious School of Puppetry. Picture credits: Identification of the photographs can be found in the picture captions. (Run your cursor over the images to see them.) The third photo is of Howard at the Little Angel in the 1990s; all the rest are of Christopher and his puppets, and come primarily from the 3 Stages for Lazarus Facebook page, set up by Guy Dartnell to honor Chris' work, and the V&A Museum Collections site.  All rights to the quotes, photographs & videos above reserved by their creators , the V&A, and the Christopher Leith estate.


Oh Howard, I am so sorry. But what a life!

Rounded with A Sleep

“We are such stuff

As dreams are made on; and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.”—Shakespeare

The old puppet, naked, trembling
Before the master, makes his bow,
Creation done for now. For now
Sleep—that old comforter—
Takes him in hand.

We are such at the end, sleep
Rounding us up in its finite arms.
Do not be afraid, child, not afraid.
There are still dreams that go on.
We have made them up ourselves.

©2015 Jane Yolen all rights reserved

I am in tears from such a gentle and powerful contributor's life ... shared here in partnership, Howard and Terri, with such love and appreciation. Thank you.

I know his work because a friend of my parents' worked with him when he was at the National, and that got me interested. I've been lucky enough to see several of his shows over the years - his St. Cuthbert and the Otters, his Feathered Mantle, and some of the shows at The Little Angel Theatre - heavens, Terri, I may have seen your husband perform there if he was working there in the '90s. I hadn't heard that Mr. Leith was so ill and I'm very saddened by this news. England has lost one of its greatest puppeteers.

Jane, your poem is a beautiful and fitting tribute to a very great man. As is Howard's post.

Beautiful post. I know very little about puppetry, but this work, this man, makes me want to know more. The video clip is quite gorgeous too. Thank you for sharing your relationship with Mr. Leith. My thoughts are with all who loved him.

The Life of a Puppeteer

His hands were bare
Until he turned them into

"There are still dreams that go on. We have made them up ourselves." What a lovely way to
give us this way of the Mystery.

Beautiful. Thank you.

Dear Terri and Howard

I am so sorry to hear this and send you my heartfelt prayers and condolences. What a stunning man he was, so talented and part of a craft that fascinates, entertains and brings fantasy and magic to life. This tribute to him is breathtaking and captures the beauty of his soul and craft. Thank you so much for sharing this, I was so deeply moved!!


Leaf light
flickers in the Autumn gloom
and the last
motion in his hands
transfers to the strings
of the puppet's corpse.

Its carved stutter
eases into a scene
and character's song,
the unraveling skein
of his breath
that rises and falls.

My Best
Please take care

That's a fine tribute to the memory of a very rare thing: A Good Man.

I remember my few encounters with Christopher Leith with great fondness and the extraordinary simplicity with which his show Cuthbert and the Otters touched my heart and fired my imagination when I first saw it in a funny little hall in Wells.

It was Christopher who suggested that I should audition at LAT. And that led to the fulfilment of a childhood dream.


Most moving Howard. A beautiful tribute to a beautiful man. I read it very late last night, and returned to it this morning to read again and follow some of the links. Thank you for sharing this.

Todd & Carol knew him too (from his film work), so he had a number of Chagford connections, lots of people who are going to miss him deeply.

That's simply beautiful, Jane. I will pass it on to Howard.

I'm so glad you had the opportunity to see his work.

Thank you, Phyllis. Short and sweet.

Another piece of beauty. Thank you, Wendy. I'll make sure that Howard sees these poems in response to Chrisopher and his work.

I love the interview video with him that the post links to. The way he talks about his work is incredibly inspirational. No wonder all who worked with him loved him.

Thanks Terri!

Again, my regards and prayers for this wonderful and his family, as well as you an yours!

Take care

Hi Jane

A remarkable poem for a remarkable man! The voice and tone in this piece is not only reverent but spiritually comforting as well!

Just beautiful!

Hi Phyllis

In spare language, you say it all!! His arms transformed creativity into something magical and brilliant!

Thank you!

Hi Terri

Thank you so much for these words toward the poem! Again, I send my prayers and condolences to his family as well as you and yours!! What a remarkable man with a remarkable legacy to leave behind, to influence and enlighten others!

Take care,
My Best

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