'Busytown' brings to life Richard Scarry's colorful adventures of everyday life

Last month, writer/performer Kevin Kling was at the Seattle Repertory Theatre. This month he's at the Seattle Children's Theatre.

At the Rep, Kling premiered an autobiographical work about trauma and recovery titled "How? How? Why? Why? Why?" The trauma was a horrendous motorcycle accident that happened seven years ago. In addition to month after month of surgical procedures and physical therapy, recovery entailed a good deal of introspection, memory and -- Kling being Kling -- humor.

At SCT, Kling is premiering "Busytown," a musical he created with composer Michael Koerner based on amusingly busy picture books for tots by the late Richard Scarry.

Kling, 51, lives in Minneapolis, but over the past 20 years he has been a semi-Seattleite, working regularly at theaters here.

"The Rep show you could call an inward journey, introspective," Kling said in a telephone conversation earlier this week. "With the Children's Theatre, it's the opposite, the joy of outward exploration. Wandering adventure is wonderful. What's going on here? And here? And here?"

Scarry wrote for preschoolers. "Busytown" is based on "What Do People Do All Day?" and "Busy, Busy Town." In both books, page after page renders everyday activities as colorful adventures.

"Richard Scarry didn't exactly create stories," Kling noted. "But there are recurring characters you follow through the pictures. One is Lowly. The other is Huckle."

Huckle is a cat. Lowly is a worm. Huckle is played by an actor, Matt Wolfe. Lowly is played by a puppet, operated bunraku style by Don Darryl Rivera.

SCT has had astounding success with stage adaptations of picture books for very young children. While these sources aren't strong on story and incident, they do provide fascinating characters and situations. And so last year we had "Good Night, Moon," in which, among other things, the cow eventually manages to jump over the moon. Five years ago in "Go, Dog, Go!" there were hyperkinetic actors wearing colorful coveralls, perky tails and floppy ears. In 1999, SCT presented Kling's adaptation of "Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse," which featured a fabulous mouse girl.

"The wonderful thing about Seattle theater and Seattle actors is the way they embrace comedy," Kling says. "Different cities have different strengths. With Chicago it's the rough, tough, edgy quality. In Minneapolis you have a lot of experimental work. In Seattle there's an amazing sense of comedy."

Kling probably is best known for his droll commentaries on National Public Radio's "All Things Considered." And last year Borealis Books of St. Paul published "The Dog Says How," a collection of Kling's always thought-provoking and often laugh-out-loud autobiographical tales.

Kling's nearly fatal motorcycle accident and its aftermath set him on a course of trauma and recovery explorations.

"I often work with actors with disabilities," he says. "And I have projects going with two groups that are familiar with cultural trauma and the need for healing -- the Ojibway here in Minnesota and a group of Aborigines in Australia.

"But, you know, I think all Americans have been in a state of post-traumatic stress since 9/11. Recovery involves two things. One is affirming a sense of self, getting to that foundation (of) who you are, trauma or no trauma. The other thing is humor. A sense of humor is essential -- that has been my experience."

Sometimes Kling's mix of trauma and humor can be startling.

"I have so many metal plates in my head since my accident that I set off alarms in airport security," he said. "I always have to allow extra time, especially if the alert level is orange or red. I've been thinking I could make some money in bars, betting that I can make magnets stick to my head. But ordinary refrigerator magnets don't work. I need to find something stronger."