Ode to Marette Kuppens | Memories of fine performances with a character all their own

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Goodbye Marette Kuppens,

You played puppet theater for young children and did so so resolutely, with commitment and conviction that you live on in the memory of many forty and thirty-somethings today. This is the image I have when, between 1996 and about 2000, I regularly parked my bike on the Hobbemakade with filled child seats. It was always Sunday morning, or Wednesday afternoon. Your puppet theater Diridas housed in a small basement with a blue painted entrance. In hand-painted letters it said above: Diridas, but curiously written with a small d, so as dIRIdAS. The sidewalk is narrow, there is a gate on the street side to stop running toddlers who might want to run onto the busy Hobbemakade. We enter, descend a few steps. Now we are in a magical den, with little chairs and stools, a puppet stage and a little kitchen. You kindly walk around, with your tall stature somewhat resembling the puppet Diridas, whom you will later play. You are unflappable, and now it appears that you do everything yourself. Everything, including the “bar. Each child gets to drink something: “Do you want lemonade or magic tea?” you ask. Many a child shouts in surprise: magic tea! And then gets a big glass with hot water and a tea bag, which slowly colors the water. Clumsy, but memory-making. Then one of your performances begins. I sit there on a Sunday morning with youngest daughter Hester, 3, and friend Marcelle with Emma, also 3. Your performance is called Fliedel and Fladdel, which are two puppets you made yourself from not much more than brown paper bags with eyes on them and strands of paper hair. All the children watch with fascination, we are all in the magical world of the child. 

At the end of the performance comes a moment that is impressive for the children: the puppet Diridas appears, played by you, and dancing and jumping, Diridas sways over the amazed toddlers. I checked my image against Emma's memory, who is now 29: “I found the puppet a little scary, but also didn't want to miss any of it, it was a secure moment of creepiness.”

I admire you for what you have given children: memories of fine performances with a character all their own. You did something small very well for young children and thus contributed to childhood memories of many. You did that for about twenty years, from about 1985 to 2005. In doing so, you were a jack-of-all-trades. In the theater encyclopedia, your versatility can be seen at a glance. For direction, production, author, performer, set, sound, costumes, light and puppets there is always only one name: Marette Kuppens!
You have not been interviewed much unfortunately, and somewhere, in a Belgian magazine, you explain in 1995 that as an 8-year-old you were already organizing performances for the neighborhood. Finally, I also want to highlight your writing talent, because what wonderful titles you gave to the plays for the older toddlers: from Melodietje (1986), Plons de kikker kan niet slapen (1995) to Tjonge wat een touw is dat! (2001).

The basement on Hobbemakade now houses a white stucco design office. I am one of the many who cycle by and keep thinking: this is where Diridas lived!