Dylan Chmura-Moore of the Manitowoc Symphony Orchestra approached me with an exciting challenge: to create distinctive visuals for their highly anticipated season opener on October 5th, 2024. After brainstorming together, we landed on the idea of a shadow puppetry-inspired film, an evocative medium that would seamlessly intertwine with the symphony’s live performance. The concept was ambitious, blending the timeless art of shadow play with the dynamic power of orchestral music.

Over the following months, I designed and crafted a series of shadow puppets and atmospheric scenes, each tailored to evoke the spirit of the music. Once the physical elements were complete, I transitioned them into a digital framework, animating and refining the sequences to align perfectly with the symphony’s score.

The final result was two distinct films, each tailored to a specific piece of music. The first, an 11-minute visual journey accompanying Edward Elgar’s Three Bavarian Dances, captured the elegant whimsy of Elgar’s melodies. The second, a 20-minute piece set to Aaron Copland’s Four Dance Episodes from Rodeo, embodied the robust, rhythmic vitality of the American West. Though both films shared a cohesive shadow puppetry aesthetic, they were designed with subtle stylistic variations to reflect the unique character and narrative of each composition.

Together, these films transformed the symphony’s performance into a fully immersive, multimedia experience, offering audiences a visual and auditory feast that celebrated the intersection of tradition and innovation.

Statement from the Artist

This project is a visual exploration of Edward Elgar’s Three Bavarian Dances, a suite that evokes a deep connection to place, innocence, and nostalgia. I tried to interpret the sound of Elgar’s music but travel through emotional landscapes where memory and rhythm intertwine to create a sense of both belonging and loss.

Each dance in Elgar’s suite offers a unique window into a world both familiar and elusive. The animation seeks to capture these moments, where innocent joy and melancholic reality coexist, where whimsical beauty and harsh devastation are two sides of the same coin. Using a hand-drawn silhouette style, I’ve allowed the simplicity of form to echo the music’s pastoral charm, while also leaving space for a deeper narrative beneath the surface.

The first dance brims with festive energy, portraying moments of simple celebration—life unfolding in its lighthearted exploration. The second dance slows the pace, offering a contemplative reflection on introspection found in quiet moments. In stark contrast, the third dance takes a more sobering turn, following a figure as they must face their reality of destruction and loss. Here, the remnants of a once-thriving place speak to the resilience and fragility of life and the pain that one cannot return to a place.

The Krampus of Yonder arrived at Green Bay’s Christkindlmarkt on December 1st at 5:30 p.m., heralded by the sound of jingling bells and ominous hoof clomps. As the creature emerged from the shadowy alleyway, cloaked in a thick, tattered lederhosen and adorned with a mask of twisted horns and a menacing grin, the crowd of festive gazers gasped in both delight and apprehension. The air grew colder, as if the very presence of Krampus brought a chill that seeped through the layers of warm clothing and blankets.

Children clutched their parents’ hands tightly, eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement, while adults whispered tales of the mythical beast who punished naughty children during the holiday season. The Krampus moved with an eerie grace, each step calculated to enhance the sense of otherworldly mystery. His chains clanked and his burlap sack, rumored to be filled with naughty children, swayed with his movements.

The Christkindlmarkt, usually vibrant with the colors and scents of the season, seemed to take on an even more magical atmosphere as Krampus made his way to the central stage. The market’s twinkling lights reflected off the icy pathways, casting a spectral glow that added to the enchantment of the evening. Stalls filled with handcrafted ornaments, warm spiced cider, and festive pastries lined the square, creating a cozy contrast to the intimidating figure now at the heart of the gathering.

Eager attendees lined up, each waiting their turn for a photo with the legendary creature. Some were brave enough to pose with Krampus’s arm draped over their shoulders, while others kept a cautious distance, smiling nervously as they snapped their pictures. Laughter and squeals filled the air, blending with the traditional holiday music that played softly in the background.

As the night wore on, Krampus’s presence seemed to deepen the community’s connection to the folklore of the season. Storytellers spun yarns about Krampusnacht, and older visitors shared memories of their own childhood encounters with the creature. The blend of fear and festivity created a unique and unforgettable experience, one that reminded all who attended of the rich tapestry of traditions that make the holiday season so special.

By the time the clock struck 8:00 p.m., the Krampus of Yonder had bid his farewell, disappearing back into the shadows from whence he came. The crowd, now buzzing with the thrill of their encounter, continued to celebrate, their spirits lifted by the mingling of light and dark, joy and mystery, that only a visit from Krampus could bring.

Yonder proudly presented “Shadow Play – A Night of 4 Puppet Shorts by 4 Puppeteers” on March 31, 2023. This unique event was the grand culmination of the intense and creative work done during a two-week workshop led by the renowned puppeteer Don Krumpos. The workshop, which focused on the art of shadow puppetry, allowed participants to explore the depths of storytelling through intricate paper cut designs and innovative puppet manipulation techniques.

Among the dedicated participants were Cecily Schleicher and Jill Iverson, who attended the workshop and produced captivating paper cuts for stories they had crafted themselves. Their work, along with that of their fellow puppeteers, was showcased during the event, each performance highlighting their unique styles and narrative talents.

That magical night, Don Krumpos himself performed “Bone Memory,” a haunting tale that delved into the echoes of the past and the memories etched into our very bones. His performance was a masterclass in shadow puppetry, using light and shadow to evoke deep emotions and tell a story that resonated with the audience.

Cecily Schleicher enchanted the audience with “Anansi and the Box of Stories,” a whimsical and colorful retelling of the classic African folktale. Her intricate paper cuts brought the cunning spider Anansi to life, capturing the essence of the character’s wit and charm.

Jill Iverson presented “Love Can Make a Man Do Great Things,” a poignant narrative that explored the transformative power of love. Through her delicate paper cuts and evocative storytelling, Iverson conveyed the profound impact of love on the human spirit, leaving the audience moved and inspired.

Erin La Bonte concluded the evening with “Flutter,” a gentle and mesmerizing piece that depicted the delicate beauty of nature and the fleeting moments of life. La Bonte’s performance was a visual and emotional feast, with graceful movements and intricate designs that captivated the audience’s imagination.

“Shadow Play – A Night of 4 Puppet Shorts by 4 Puppeteers” was a celebration of creativity, storytelling, and the art of shadow puppetry. The event not only showcased the incredible talents of the puppeteers but also highlighted the power of collaborative artistic efforts. The audience left with a renewed appreciation for the art form and the stories that can be told through the dance of light and shadow.

We couldn’t say it better than our friend and attendee Alex Galt over at his blog.

I saw a beautiful thing a couple of weeks ago and I wanted to tell you about it because, by its very nature, I can’t share it with you. And maybe that was the point. These days the accepted thing is to seek virality, maybe to put your spin on a meme and to send it out into the world hoping for a million views. Because attention is currency and it’s come to be how we place value on things. What I’m about to describe is on the opposite end of the continuum from whatever Kim Kardashian West is doing. Imagine working hard to create a layered and beautiful artistic performance that will be seen and enjoyed by no more than 60 people. I mean, what would be the point? Right? I’m talking an original story with elaborate props, costumes, shadow puppets, simulated stained glass windows, stage sets, food, and giant papier-mâché hands. True, the audience to effort ratio for the performing arts is much lower than for other media, due to their ephemerality. For example, I have a college friend who is a relatively successful playwright in New York and it’s been almost impossible for me to follow his career from my home in Wisconsin. But what I’m about to describe feels like it was specifically designed to be immune to digital virality and, in retrospect, I think that’s part of why I found it so thrilling.

Yonder and the Krampus

On a Saturday evening in early December, Don Krumpos* and his team presented “Krampus Claws Is Coming to Town” at Yonder, Krumpos’ art gallery and studio in Algoma, Wisconsin. Using a blend of storytelling, shadow play, illustrations made from simulated stained glass, and immersive theater, Krumpos and his troupe told an original story using elements of the German and Icelandic Christmas folk traditions. First, there was Krampus, St. Nick’s horned and bearded co-worker, who has been punishing the wicked children of Germany for centuries. This Christmas, Krampus discovered that morality is not as simple as black and white, that ‘bad’ kids are sometimes good kids in bad circumstances. Initially he’s perplexed by this moral ambiguity, but by the end of the show he’s taken it to heart and found a new role to play during Christmas. Then there was Gryla, a giantess who traditionally punishes the misbehaving children of Iceland with the help of the “Yule Lads” and her terrifying Yule Cat. (Apparently Iceland has a more interesting Christmas season than we do). In Yonder’s retelling, Gryla and her minions have been locked beneath the earth for a thousand years, bound by magical spells cast with air, water, and fire. And these bonds are weakening…

Enter the audience

“Krampus Claws” was divided into three acts with an intermission between each act. As the audience mingled and consumed Krampus-inspired snacks, treats, and ciders (both hot and alcoholic), costumed members of the troupe pulled individuals or small groups of people to visit with the spirits of water, air, and fire. Each of these experiences, which were elaborately presented in smaller spaces, yielded a token: a rubber “fireball,” a kazoo, and a small water pistol. Participants were asked to hang on to these and to keep them hidden. In the third ‘act,’ which was primarily conveyed using shadow puppets, Gryla and her brood slipped their bonds and prepared to wreak havoc on the children of Earth. But at the last minute they were turned back by Krampus, freshly motivated by his new, more nuanced moral understanding. In fact, he has come to see that it’s now Gryla who is misbehaving and in need of punishment. Finally, Krampus and the narrator of the story rallied the audience to defeat the Icelandic folk monsters, including the Yule Cat, with their fireballs, kazoos, and water pistols. Thus, another merry Christmas was assured and the balance of the universe maintained.

Nothing I write here (not even Joshua Clark’s photos, though they tell part of the story) can convey the sense of wonder that this production produced in the audience. We collectively gasped and laughed as all of the elements of the production converged at the end. Elements that may have felt absurdist and a little off-handed at the time were revealed to be dramatically important. It all felt cathartic and almost ritualistic… but without any of the self-seriousness that things too often have this time of year. As with everything Krumpos does—working alone or with his co-conspirators—from his beautiful prints to the murals he’s been painting in communities all over Wisconsin, every aspect of the event was beautifully detailed and well considered. This year’s Krampus costume was feral, like something out of a deep, medieval Alpine forest, and in an entirely different way than the equally beautiful Krampus figure he designed for the 2019 show (which is currently on display at Yonder’s storefront at 321 Steele Street in Algoma). The shadow puppets, which Krumpos has been experimenting with since producing a workshop with Minneapolis’s Michael Sommers, co-founder of Open Eye Theater, at UWGB seven years ago, were intricately cut and full of playful effects.

This is a type of experience that feels rare to me to me these days, it reminded me of a culture of artistic production that was more familiar to me in my 20s—back in the 1990s—long before the potential for virality demolished the idea that a thing could be done just for itself and just for the people fortunate enough to be in the room. That it was so creative, so well executed, and so beautiful just made it all the more precious. Krumpos says that these Krampus pageants (for lack of a better term) will continue… you should make a point of getting on his mailing list so you don’t miss out!

* Who is Don Krumpos? He is a muralist, printmaker, and multimedia artist who has been an art professor at the University of Wisconsin—Green Bay.

On a night when the veil between worlds grew thin, Yonder held its first grand interactive performance, summoning Krampus himself to weave a tale of fate, mischief, and shadowy revelry. Inspired long ago by the traveling spectacle of Michael Sommers’ A Hole, this vision of immersive storytelling simmered for years—until at last, in 2019, the muses whispered their secrets, and the tale was set in motion.

Through the flickering glow of lanterns and candlelight, guests embarked on a journey through a living fable—a three-act shadow puppet play where the narrative was no mere performance, but a game of fate itself. Between each act, the audience was drawn into the story, moving through a series of strange and wondrous encounters.

At the Threshold of Fate – The Keeper of the List
Shrouded in the crisp night air, The Keeper of the List (played by Yonder favorite, Chris Rand) stood beyond the shop, an enigmatic figure poised before the flames. Guests, clutching mysterious invitations riddled with cryptic inscriptions, approached. One by one, the Keeper lifted the parchment to the candlelight, watching as hidden messages were revealed—a decree from the shadows: Were you good, or had your deeds doomed you? With their judgment sealed, revelers then warmed themselves by the fire afterward, sipping mulled wine and nibbling on sweet confections, laughter mingling with whispers of fate.

Descent into the Icy Abyss – The Krampus Lair
Through a hidden passage, a mischievous nymph—her eyes alight with knowing mischief—beckoned guests downward into a frozen cavern beneath the building. Within, a looming, spectral Krampus (voiced and animated by co-collaborator Joel Zwicky) hovered behind a veil, a phantom visage brought to life through clever trickery and shadowed sorcery. His guttural voice and twitching snout searched the air, sniffing out each guest’s true nature. If one was deemed virtuous, a henchman branded their cheeks with rosy warmth—a mark of purity and elfish grace. But should a soul be found wicked, a sooty mark of coal was pressed upon their brow, sealing their shadowy misdeeds for all to see. Guests emerged, eyeing one another’s markings in gleeful confusion—what did it all mean?

Feasting & Riddles – The Puzzle of Destiny
Between acts, feasting commenced—mushroom wellington pastries shaped like Krampus himself, and later, shots of peppermint schnapps (or gentler, child-friendly brews for the small and pure of heart). But all was not idle revelry. Something stirred beneath the surface.

A puzzle lay hidden upon the walls, marked in strange glyphs—a cipher only those who dared to study their invitations closely might decipher. It was then that realization crept in—the guests had been divided into teams, unknowingly set on a path to determine the fate of Krampus himself. The pieces fit together, the phrases forming like prophecies whispered by the ancients: one side sought to empower the beast, the other to banish him for yet another year. Which force would triumph?

The Final Act – The Unveiling of the Beast
As the final act unfolded, a trick of sorcery played upon the walls—a camera cast the audience’s own silhouettes upon the grand screen, revealing them as more than mere spectators. They were now part of the legend itself. The story surged forward—Krampus, his plan near completion, arose in terrible grandeur.

From behind the stage, an eight-foot-tall, monstrous Krampus emerged, towering over the revelers, his clawed fingers reaching for the innocent. The audience gasped as he dragged a child behind the curtain, sealing their fate—for each day of the year, another soul would be taken. Unless. Unless someone could stop him.

The moment of reckoning arrived. The puzzle was nearly complete—whispered phrases turned to shouts, shouts to a single, unified declaration of power. One by one, guests stepped forward, each revealing a letter printed upon their invitation, a cryptic mark they had carried all along. As the final letters were placed into the puzzle, the hidden phrase emerged, its meaning at last unveiled—a spell of binding or a chant of ruin. In the final breath of suspense, the good side triumphed! The ancient bindings held strong, their combined voices sealing the decree. Krampus—cursed once more—let out a bellow of frustration as the forces of light held firm, banishing him to his shadowed realm, unable to claim another for a full turn of the sun.

Defeated, yet ever mischievous, Krampus conceded to his fate, retreating not in rage, but in begrudging amusement. He bestowed sweets upon the children—a final act of resignation, a token of the truce. And thus, the revelers gathered for final moments of merriment, posing for portraits with the subdued beast, basking in the strange, magical triumph they had helped weave into legend.

And so the tale was told. A night of shadows and riddles, of fortunes revealed and fates unwound.
But the question lingers:
Will Krampus return next year? Or will a new story be written?

Only time—and the turning of the wheel—will tell.

Bone Memory was a shadow puppet short performed at Yonder on October 4th, 2019