Insane Clone Posse

The best acts combined vivid satire with puppetry’s inherent, inhuman grace. Duncan Trussel’s Li’l Hobo played on evil-dummy clichés with existential worries (“Do I have a soul?”) and wicked anti-Semitism (“If I say ‘Heil Hitler,’ you’ll get in trouble!”), while Los Niños displayed real marionette-handling chops via a sickeningly cute My Twinn doll. The most unclassifiable entry came from Reverend Jim Hill and Puppet2Puppet Productions. In the troupe’s 9/11-themed playlet Heaven Needs Firemen, a Bible-toting mom explains to the kids that their fireman daddy’s not coming home because Jesus needs him to put out the flames at the edge of heaven. Jaw-droppingly offensive parody or sincere Christian ideology? Hill’s mild, Ned Flanders–ish demeanor offered no clues. (Franklin Bruno)

Benny Carter, 1907–2003

Looking at a list of Benny Carter’s accomplishments could scare you — the exact opposite of what happened when you heard his jazz, which always seemed like the most comfortable, natural thing in the world. His tone on alto sax was clean yet warm; his improvisations painted vivid vignettes with simple elegance. Carter was a genius, but not the tortured or showy kind. He’d blow sax for a while, then you’d notice he had picked up the trumpet and was playing it just as beautifully. Oh, you’d think, the tunes are mostly his, too. And he arranged for many big bands including Fletcher Henderson’s and Duke Ellington’s, and for singers from Billie Holiday to Ray Charles, since . . . when? The ’20s? Musicians from swing to bop and beyond, knowing how much they’d learn, wore out their knees praying to be in his ensembles, and the prayers of talents such as Sid Catlett, Miles Davis and Max Roach were answered. He worked extensively in film. Worked in television early, when everyone else in the game was white. Taught. A UCLA tribute was planned for August 24 to celebrate his 96th birthday; it will now be a memorial. Born in New York, Benny Carter lived in Los Angeles.

—Greg Burk