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The Columbus Dispatch : Acting out music
As country singer Miranda Lambert waxed melodically about big dreams and broken hearts during the first concert of the latest Ohio State Fair, another spirited -- yet silent -- discourse played out just steps from the Celeste Center limelight.
At stage left, in a booth cloaked with black fabric, sign-language interpreter Meg Tucker was performing the set list with gusto.
Yes, performing.
Shaking her hips in tempo and wearing a smile as big as the midway, Tucker, 56, deftly mimicked the lyrics -- wielding a shotgun (Gunpowder & Lead), clawing at her neck (Desperation) and shoving a burdensome load out the door forever (I Can't Be Bothered).
The hands do much of the talking in American Sign Language, but the movements of the rest of the body provide a complete emotional picture, especially at a concert.
"Sign language is based on concepts; it's not a word-for-word translation," said Tucker, who has signed at Ohio State Fair concerts and events for 15 years.
"You want to move so that you can show in some way that you know what the music is like."
Tucker -- who, with a degree in theater education, began studying sign language 28 years ago after a friend lost her hearing -- easily delivers as much emotion and energy as the marquee act.
She and the eight participants in Stagehands, a group that Tucker founded in 1992 to provide artistic interpretations for deaf audiences, spend weeks studying lyrics and melodies before a performance (they also translate area choir groups and Sunday matinees for Broadway Across America, among other shows).
Coupled with the interpreter services, deaf audiences feel the beat from the band and experience concerts in a way that's different but no less meaningful.
"Music isn't necessarily accessible to them by any other means," said Stagehands translator Jane Allinder, 45. "You can't look at music with closed-captioning on the TV or read the lyrics and figure out what that feels like."
Thanks to networking among members of the central Ohio deaf community, awareness of Stagehands offerings has spread.
Gayle Murphy, a deaf sign-language professor from Grove City and a state-fair concertgoer for four years, is particularly fond of Tucker's work.
"Often, when you see interpreters, their singing (translation) skills are not very good," Murphy said through a translator.
"Meg really listens to the song and matches the meaning, not just the words. There's a big difference."
The Americans With Disabilities Act requires that concert venues provide access for patrons with special needs, including the deaf, but requests for an interpreter typically must be filed in advance.
At the Ohio State Fair, though, the service is standard. Reserved seats close to the interpreters and free assisted-listening devices for hearing-impaired guests are also available.
"We want all people to be able to enjoy the shows," entertainment director Brett Chance said. "We feel good offering it."
Despite the fun that interpreters seem to have during a concert, the job isn't easy.
Set lists are often unavailable until shortly before a show starts. And keeping up with the musicians (the Melissa Etheridge concert Aug. 2 stretched to three hours) can be tiring.
To lighten the load, two Stagehands interpreters work each show, switching between artists on a double bill or swapping within an extended set.
"Your hands don't get tired," Tucker said, "but your brain does."
Perhaps more interesting is the interpretation of off-color content.
Allinder, for example, signed the Broadway musical Avenue Q in April at the Palace Theatre. The popular show features songs with titles such as I'm Not Wearing Underwear Today and The Internet Is for Porn, sung by potty-mouthed puppets.
"If it's something you're not comfortable saying, you need to not take those assignments," Allinder said. "We interpret as is."
And although the state fair concerts typically cater to all ages, now and then a show does get a tad racy.
Stagehands translator Bobbi Bedinghaus, who will sign the Ted Nugent concert Saturday night, has translated before for the hard rocker and frequent fair performer.
Nugent is known for lusty songs such as Cat Scratch Fever and Wang Dang Sweet Poontang -- a job that Bedinghaus, 48, is more apt to laugh about than take offense at.
Last summer, a local poster on the message boards of a heavy-metal Web site singled out Bedinghaus for her lively interpretation of the Quiet Riot line "She's got long, sagging boobs," among several other gems that are even less family-oriented.
"It's just hilarious. You have to express all of that," said Bedinghaus, who also teaches sign language at Westerville Central High School.
"Usually, it looks way more explicit with me (than the performer). You can tell (during certain parts) that all the eyes go away from them to me."
Jokes aside, the performers and fans alike often take notice, too.
Several years ago, Allinder was taken onto the main stage to sign a song alongside Vince Gill in memory of his deceased father.
More recently, country artist Dierks Bentley jumped into the audience, joining Allinder in her booth during the closing song July 31.
Tucker recalled a deaf father who approached her after taking his two hearing daughters to the concert last summer featuring Corbin Bleu, a Disney teen heartthrob.
"This was the first time he knew what kind of content they're going crazy over," she said. "He said, 'Oh, my gosh, I can know what my children are experiencing.' "
Tucker, who recently signed a five-year contract extension with the fair, understands.
Such attention and emotion, she knows, create an unforgettable evening of music -- without making a sound.
As country singer Miranda Lambert waxed melodically about big dreams and broken hearts during the first concert of the latest Ohio State Fair, another spirited -- yet silent -- discourse played out just steps from the Celeste Center limelight.
At stage left, in a booth cloaked with black fabric, sign-language interpreter Meg Tucker was performing the set list with gusto.
Yes, performing.
Shaking her hips in tempo and wearing a smile as big as the midway, Tucker, 56, deftly mimicked the lyrics -- wielding a shotgun (Gunpowder & Lead), clawing at her neck (Desperation) and shoving a burdensome load out the door forever (I Can't Be Bothered).
The hands do much of the talking in American Sign Language, but the movements of the rest of the body provide a complete emotional picture, especially at a concert.
"Sign language is based on concepts; it's not a word-for-word translation," said Tucker, who has signed at Ohio State Fair concerts and events for 15 years.
"You want to move so that you can show in some way that you know what the music is like."
Tucker -- who, with a degree in theater education, began studying sign language 28 years ago after a friend lost her hearing -- easily delivers as much emotion and energy as the marquee act.
She and the eight participants in Stagehands, a group that Tucker founded in 1992 to provide artistic interpretations for deaf audiences, spend weeks studying lyrics and melodies before a performance (they also translate area choir groups and Sunday matinees for Broadway Across America, among other shows).
Coupled with the interpreter services, deaf audiences feel the beat from the band and experience concerts in a way that's different but no less meaningful.
"Music isn't necessarily accessible to them by any other means," said Stagehands translator Jane Allinder, 45. "You can't look at music with closed-captioning on the TV or read the lyrics and figure out what that feels like."
Thanks to networking among members of the central Ohio deaf community, awareness of Stagehands offerings has spread.
Gayle Murphy, a deaf sign-language professor from Grove City and a state-fair concertgoer for four years, is particularly fond of Tucker's work.
"Often, when you see interpreters, their singing (translation) skills are not very good," Murphy said through a translator.
"Meg really listens to the song and matches the meaning, not just the words. There's a big difference."
The Americans With Disabilities Act requires that concert venues provide access for patrons with special needs, including the deaf, but requests for an interpreter typically must be filed in advance.
At the Ohio State Fair, though, the service is standard. Reserved seats close to the interpreters and free assisted-listening devices for hearing-impaired guests are also available.
"We want all people to be able to enjoy the shows," entertainment director Brett Chance said. "We feel good offering it."
Despite the fun that interpreters seem to have during a concert, the job isn't easy.
Set lists are often unavailable until shortly before a show starts. And keeping up with the musicians (the Melissa Etheridge concert Aug. 2 stretched to three hours) can be tiring.
To lighten the load, two Stagehands interpreters work each show, switching between artists on a double bill or swapping within an extended set.
"Your hands don't get tired," Tucker said, "but your brain does."
Perhaps more interesting is the interpretation of off-color content.
Allinder, for example, signed the Broadway musical Avenue Q in April at the Palace Theatre. The popular show features songs with titles such as I'm Not Wearing Underwear Today and The Internet Is for Porn, sung by potty-mouthed puppets.
"If it's something you're not comfortable saying, you need to not take those assignments," Allinder said. "We interpret as is."
And although the state fair concerts typically cater to all ages, now and then a show does get a tad racy.
Stagehands translator Bobbi Bedinghaus, who will sign the Ted Nugent concert Saturday night, has translated before for the hard rocker and frequent fair performer.
Nugent is known for lusty songs such as Cat Scratch Fever and Wang Dang Sweet Poontang -- a job that Bedinghaus, 48, is more apt to laugh about than take offense at.
Last summer, a local poster on the message boards of a heavy-metal Web site singled out Bedinghaus for her lively interpretation of the Quiet Riot line "She's got long, sagging boobs," among several other gems that are even less family-oriented.
"It's just hilarious. You have to express all of that," said Bedinghaus, who also teaches sign language at Westerville Central High School.
"Usually, it looks way more explicit with me (than the performer). You can tell (during certain parts) that all the eyes go away from them to me."
Jokes aside, the performers and fans alike often take notice, too.
Several years ago, Allinder was taken onto the main stage to sign a song alongside Vince Gill in memory of his deceased father.
More recently, country artist Dierks Bentley jumped into the audience, joining Allinder in her booth during the closing song July 31.
Tucker recalled a deaf father who approached her after taking his two hearing daughters to the concert last summer featuring Corbin Bleu, a Disney teen heartthrob.
"This was the first time he knew what kind of content they're going crazy over," she said. "He said, 'Oh, my gosh, I can know what my children are experiencing.' "
Tucker, who recently signed a five-year contract extension with the fair, understands.
Such attention and emotion, she knows, create an unforgettable evening of music -- without making a sound.