Star-Phoenix from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada • 21

Ijlplllf returns f' to London Saskatonians feel the heat Temple Black tells story Rivera injured in punch-up Illusions limited only by size of stage same store where you cot ventriloquist supplies also carried all the makings for magic. That caught my eye, seemed to work better for me and I decided to pursue it as a career." In 1968, he became the youngest magician-illusionist to be admitted into The Society of American Magicians; in 1974, he started The Magic Man on a Chicago stage; in -1977, he did his first network television production; and 1979, he and his staff won the first of four Emmy awards for their television work. Do his illusions require an everyday commitment? "I work at it every day. Ten months of the year is spent on the road, the other two on the TV special but it's a continuous thing of staying with your talent." Away from the stage, Copperfield has launched a program, Project Magic, which is designed to assist handicapped people learn magic as part of their therapy. "I received letters from a young magician for four years ago before he attached a picture of himself in a wheelchair, He had never mentioned his disability before.

I believed that if I could be a support system to him, I could do it for others. It assists them in doing things they didn't think they could and it's a real confidence-builder." The program has been accredited by medical and psychiatric hospitals and "in seven years, we've built the total to 1,000 hospitals in 30 countries." By Ned Powers of the Star-Phoenix David Copperfield's imagination and creativity knows no bounds. He's the incomparable magician who made a seven-ton Lear jet disappear, made the Statue of Liberty vanish, levitated himself across the Grand Canyon, walked through the 25-foot thick base of the Great China Wall, escaped from Alcatraz Island and penetrated the Bermuda Triangle. "Some of the ideas come to me in my dreams but after we decide what to do, it's a well-devised plan, sometimes a year or two years in the works, before we put the illusion on stage or television," says Copperfield on the telephone. With one TV.

special a year, Copperfield says much work goes into the program's major feat "but you can apply all of the illusions to a stage of any size. We carry three 48-foot trucks of equipment and as long as the door of an auditorium is big enough, there's unlimited possibilities." Copperfield makes his first-ever appearance in Saskatoon on Tuesday, headlining shows at the Centennial Auditorium at 5:30 and 8:30 "p.m. Although he's consummate as a magician and illusionist, Copperfield leaves no stones Unturned in theatrics, often creating a mini-drama effect with the illusion, always providing elaborate staging. His stage show highlight is The Amazing Death Saw, an illusion in which he dangerously placed in the path of a death saw and uses his unique skills to escape before it's too late. Constantly faced with the challenge of trying to be bigger and better each time out, Copperfield says it's really a matter of developing good ideas and growing constantly.

He looks upon the disappearance of the Statue of Liberty as a highlight. It took 18 months of planning, $500,000 to do and a lot of time to unravel the bureacratic red "There was some concern about me tampering with a natural treasure," laughs Copperfield. He began with small models of the statute, pedestal and island. He gradually refined it and scaled it to actual performance size, which required radar screens showing the statue as a blip and several helicopters. On the TV special, ticketed for March 3, Copperfield is working on an illusion where "I'm locked inside a safe, inside a building which is about to be demolished and I've got two minutes to get out or else." Copperfield says some of the things "I'll do on the next television show will be previewed on your Saskatoon stage." Copperfield was always fascinated by magic as a youngster.

"My first interest was ventriloquism and Paul Winchell was my hero. I didn't seem to be very good at it. But the a I' I Ml'IIUJi" i I Paul Peters: Caring, sharing SECTION Star-Phoenix Saskatoon, Saskatchewan Saturday, Nov. 5, 1988 F1 oJSd I Jeff Healey (centre); Joe Rockman (left) and Tom Stephen perform tonight at Louis Pub on campus Big band era left mark on Jeff Healey's music SASKATOON PRIDES itself in a quality of life, encompassing theatre, music, art and culture, many of its forms taking place in the Centennial Auditorium, a building which, for 20 years, has been attractive to entertainers for all the right reasons. Touring artists come to Saskatoon because of the size and technical qualities of the building, because of the community's warm reception and because reasonable box-office returns are the rule.

But, since the building's inception, a primary reason why many entertainers keep coming back has been the way they have personally been treated. And credit for that goes to Paul Peters, house supervisor in earlier years, executive director in later years, always the man who took the time and effort to make the entertainers feel that the Auditorium and all accommodations were the equal of a home away from home. The Auditorium is an emptier place today because Peters, 48, died in a tragic car accident on Tuesday night. His loss will be numbing to people well beyond the boundaries of Saskatoon. PETERS WAS a professional in his business but that didn't stop him from caring and sharing with the people who used his building, people who discovered early that a firm handshake was an invitation to genuine friendship.

Bill Cosby was one of his favorites. Cosby could afford a limousine but preferred to be picked up at the airport and at the hotel by Peters because, when they got together, they laughed and told stories that befitted each man's personality. They'd often go to restaurants after performances. And one night, Cosby chartered an aircraft to go to Winnipeg, invited Peters along for coffee, convincing him all along that the air-" craft had to comeback to Saskatoon anyway. Peters went to Winnipeg for coffee, returned on an empty aircraft but he believed that time with Cosby was always well-spent.

'Harry Belafonte was always a warm, personal friend; Kenny Rogers gave Peters a direct line to his office (and Rogers' own people never quite knew why); Reveen and his family socialized with Peters and his family, whenever and wherever they met; the days and nights with Will Millar and the Rovers were good-time Country singers like Charley Pride and Johnny Cash were favorites, too, because one of the Ned POWERS Op'mionlComtnentary promoters to first enter the building, Marlin Payne, became one of his long-standing friends. Sadly now, the Peters family will not be able to share the American Thanksgiving dinner they promised to attend with the Paynes in Billings, Mont, later this month. One of the big things around the Peters household in December was anticipation of a Christmas card from Liberace, who created gaudy, fancy cards like no one else and, until the time of Liberace's death, the cards were always wonderful conversation pieces. PAUL PETERS had a zest for life that affected everyone around him. With the entertain- ers, he was young enough at heart that he collected autographs but perhaps that was the ticket to developing enduring friendships.

Hardly ever were there disagreements with quality entertainers because they gained early respect for him, their friendships was word, their trust was the bond. Peters ran a good ship, too. His was often the ultimate word in negotiations but he built a team of competent people. He believed in everyone living by the same rules. At the height of the wild ticket scrambles for Saskatchewan Place events this year, Peters didn't extend himself or his friends any special courtesies even though his building was a sales venue.

He was among the first in line for tickets to the Oak Ridge Boys, partly because he wanted to go through the experience of lineups and mainly because he considered himself a customer like everybody else. The supreme tribute to Peters is that lie, more than anyone, sought and created the kind of activity within the Auditorium which truly made it a people place. In extending heartfelt sympathies to his wife, Liz, their children and grandchildren and all family members, there comes a glowing satisfaction that nothing was stronger in Paul's life than the family tradition and that Paul, indeed, took basic family principles and ap-. plied them in the work force. Movie extras lured by prizes MONTREAL (CP) Pssst: wanna be a movie extra and have the chance of winning Yum Yum chips, Maple Leaf hams, Vachon cakes, Crescent yogurts, movie tickets and a trip for two to Beijing? Back on track after a year's delay because of financial problems, the $18-million-plus Canada-Chinese-French co-production Bethune The Making of a Hero is offering prizes, instead of cash, to lure thousands of Montrealers to give up a Saturday.

Flanked by his Chinese co-producer Wang Xingang, head of the August First Film Studio, Canadian producer Nicolas Clermont announced Friday that some 3,000 to 4,000 extras will be needed Nov. 19, to portray a crowd addressed by Dr. Norman Bethune (Donald Sutherland) at a political rally in Montreal in the 1930s. To be eligible, the extras must register at any one of 31 Canadian Tire stores on the island of Montreal, be at least 18, and be willing to have their hair styled in '30s fashion. Recruiting posters for the scene say in French: "Act in the greatest movie ever made in Canada and win a trip to China." "We couldn't afford to pay 3,000 or 4,000 extras," explained Clermont.

Non-union extras are usually paid about $5 an hour, so this scene could have cost the producers upwards of $150,000. Well-known English actor Geoffrey Chater, who's here to play the role of Dr. Edward Archibald, Bethune's mentor, admitted after the news conference that he'd never worked on a film where the extras were offered prizes. But the dapper actor recalled that on Gandhi, in which he played a high-ranking British official, director Richard Attenborough had called for thousands of extras, only to have twice as many show up because of the free lunch. Originally budgeted at $16 million, the Bethune epic went over-budget in China, but was saved when Telefilm Canada, the federal film-funding agency, and the movie's distributors kicked in an additional amount estimated to be about $2.5 million.

"Will the extras get to meet Sutherland?" asked a reporter. "They'll get to see Sutherland," replied Clermont, referring to the movie's temperamental star, who, like director Phillip Borsos, was noticeably absent from the news conference. Clermont said that Borsos and Sutherland were shooting a scene near Magog, but would probably speak to the media when the film wraps up its Canadian shoot in early December. After that, the production moves to Madrid where scenes of Bethune's participation on the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War will be recreated. The China segment of the movie and TV mini-series, which shows the Canadian surgeon's heroic ef- forts as a battlefront doctor during the Chinese Revolution, were shot in 1987 by English cinematog-rapher Mike Molloy.

we did that purposely." Americans didn't realize he was sightless until the video was released and he embarked on a promotional tour. An avid record collector, by his estimation he has more than 10,000 vintage jazz and blues 78s, the result of 12 years of collecting. "That's the stuff I like to listen to when I'm offstage," he said, adding the music in the background during the interview was from a Count Basie performance, circa 1941. "Unconsciously I think I've been influenced by the big bands," he said. "For instance Basie had a vocalist, Jimmy Rushing, who was just incredible and in my own way I think he has influenced my performance." Healey admitted that while his style may sound new to young fans, "its been done for years and years." From now til Christmas Healey and his sidemen, bassist Joe Rockman and drummer Tom Stephen are criss-crossing the country playing wherever a gig can be lined up.

Then its off to Europe for more promotion and television appearances. "We're adventurous; we want to take this around the world," he said. By Terry Craig of the Star-Phoenix "When I was three, I asked for a guitar for Christmas and got one, it was a little guitar." From that modest beginning, Jeff Healey has become the latest hotshot in the flash guitarist sweepstakes. Healey goes up against another blistering guitarist, Colin James, tonight. In a weird twist of bookings, Healey makes his first appearance in Saskatoon at Louis Pub on campus, meanwhile across town at Centennial Hall, James rocks out with his band.

"It's not like we didn't want to come to Saskatoon but we couldn't get booked," Healey explained. "Sometimes it takes ah album release before clubs will jump in." Both Healey and James share an unbridled approach to their music. For Healey this year has been an amazing 12 months culminating in the release of his debut album, See The Light, recorded in Los Angeles with veteran west coast producer Greg La-danyi. Hand in hand with the album release is Healey's movie debut in Road House, a Patrick Swayze "I'd rather be known as a guitarist than a biind Jeff Healey starrer in which Healey plays the leader of a bar band in a rough-hewn road house. After learning the guitar, Healey was playing and singing in a wide variety of Toronto bands.

One night in 1985, Healey shared the stage with two guitar legends, Stevie Ray Vaughan and Albert Collins. It was after than jam session that Vaughan proclaimed Healey as being able to revolutionize the way the guitar can be played. Because he is blind, Healey developed a more comfortable to him at least style of playing the guitar on his lap, extending the range of striking the strings. But on the telephone from a Calgary hotel room, Healey was pretty emphatic about his reputation. "I'd rather be known as a gui-" tarist than a blind guitarist," ha said.

"In fact, the U.S. heard us, before they knew I was blind and from the Zamfir draws inspiration ages Zamfir said Canadians groove to European-based music because that's where their roots are. He claims the pan flute, a row of bamboo tubes, is the oldest instrument in the world. When he composes, he transports himself back to previous millenia, when the pan flute flourished. For inspiration, he searches deep in his soul and prays for inspiration.

He composes all the time, on one of his four pianos, uniting those old, subconscious memories with the present. Will he write more music? "Oh, my god. Yes," he said. "I have a special message for humanity." "My heart is pure and that's the most important thing." He said he can't be expected to play Romanian folk songs or his mega-hit The Lonely Shepherd for 25 years straight, any more than a person should be expected to eat chicken soup every day. At the Centennial Auditorium Monday, he'll perform a variety of pieces with pianist George Rabol.

Most of them he wrote himself, but the others range from Bela Bartok's Romanian dances to Lionel Richie's Hello. He's also performing Danse of Saskatoon, inspired by his concert here three years ago. By Sheila Bean of the Star-Phoenix A conversation with Gheorghe Zamfir is a weighty discussion of the cosmos, of reincarnation and of his pan flute's power. Like scriptures and paintings, the pan flute stirs subconscious memories of previous lives and previous said. "The people are reminded exactly what's happened many, many years ago." Canadians have a special link to the pan flute, which originated in Eastern Europe thousands of years ago.

While Japanese listeners have nothing in common with Turkish music, for instance, Zamfir intends to dedicate his music and his life to his spiritual beliefs, and occasionally to protest such things as pollution, bombs, hunting, and rock and disco music. Seven years ago, Zamfir left his homeland, Romania, because that country's politics has strangled the arts. He says he'll never go back. Now he makes his home near Montreal. Always, always he tries different kinds of music on his pan flute.

Those he calls purists have criticized him for abandoning folk music, but he says he hasn't given it up. "This music is in my blood, in my veins, in my body, in my mind," he said..