Pulling The Strings History

Sicily's puppeteers are finding novel ways to keep their art form alive

- Anna Staropoli

Deep in the historic heart of the Sicilian capital of Palermo, a dragon stirs. A drumbeat thuds through the darkened room as the creature takes flight. The dragon lurches towards our armour-clad hero, Orlando, but it is no match for the knight. Orlando’s sword slices through the beast and its body falls to the ground. Its bloodied head dangles by a string above the stage. A burst of fun-house music from a barrel organ closes out the scene.

Here at the Antonio Pasqualino International Puppet Museum, housed in a grand building that was once home to the 18th-century Hotel de France in Palermo, slaying dragons is a family affair. Salvatore Bumbello stages daily live puppet shows in the museum’s theatre, often with the help of his ten-year-old daughter, Martina, and her older brothers, Luciano and Francesco (during the dragon show, Martina cranks the handle of the theatre’s barrel organ, while both her brothers work backstage).

The productions follow traditional storylines from the Renaissance and earlier, in particular the tales of Orlando and Rinaldo, two legendary knights, or paladins, of Charlemagne’s court. The pair take on dragons, demons, and other foes—staple fare for this distinctive style of Sicilian puppetry, which began in the early 19th century.

Weathering war and economic turmoil, the Opera dei Pupi has been performed without interruption for more than 200 years. COVID-19 threatened that run, forcing Palermo’s puppeteers to tweak the very elements that set their tradition apart—or risk losing it altogether.