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KING OF BRANSON
PAGE 2 of 12
| Opening with some virtuoso fiddling, Tabuchi immediately sets to work wooing the audience. |
At 6-1 Tabuchi is taller than expected. He has the kind of long, square-shouldered frame that looks good in a dinner jacket. An hour before the start of the 3 p.m. matinee, he is wearing a light green Polo oxford shirt and cream-colored chinos. His striking bowl haircut makes his face look round and boyish through he is well into his 40s. After shaking hands Tabuchi becomes somewhat taciturn, though his face suggests friendly interest. The dressing room's rich red velvet upholstery and ornate wallpaper shows, once again, a woman's hand. The clutter of papers, books and other paraphernelia and a TV set suggests that much of Tabuchi's life is spent in it. Normally it's kept much neater, he tells me. Inside the open closet hangs an assortment of glittering jackets, white shirts and black tuxedo pants. One corner of the room is given over to Chinese lacquer panels inlaid with jade and mother-of-pearl. They were quite expensive, Tabuchi says. He picked them out from samples shown by the decorator. The dressing table mirror is circuled by bulbs and laced with myriad notes of reminders, including one that lists the numbers performed in the Christmas show and another containing the lyrics to "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" with some syllables underlined for emphasis.
Naturally, I am curious about Dorothy, the woman in whose sensibility I have been steeped from the moment I stepped into the theater lobby. To my questions about their meeting and courtship, Tabuchi's initial response is evasion in the form of praise for Dorothy's beauty and talents as the theater's production genius. Only his halting English keeps the praise from being downright effusive. Not surprisingly for a musician, Tabuchi has learned English by ear; he speaks by choosing stock phrases from a surprisingly rich repertoire and leaving it to the listener mentally to supply the grammatical connectors. Some interview subjects enjoy the chance to share trials and tribulations, but Tabuchi is an intensely private man who is merely going along, albeit courteously. He does take it seriously enough, however, to ignore ringing phones and to dispatch summarily a knock on the door with an order not to be disturbed again. Minutes before curtain time for the matinee, Jewell comes to take me down to my seat. I am to resume the interview after the show.
Tabuchi with his wife Dorothy and stepdaughter Christina.
Tabuchi doesn't figure in the show's opening numbers in which Tabuchi's troupe of three dozen renders in song and dance Christmas scenes from a waspy yesteryear that never was, complete with tree, elaborate gift boxes, fireplace and rockers. The most impressive things about the opening acts are the Broadway-quality sets and lighting. Otherwise, the numbers are reminiscent, in their impossible wholesomeness, of the Lawrence Welk Show. Not until a half hour into the show does Tabuchi and his violin make their entrance. Opening with some virtuoso fiddling, Tabuchi immediately sets to work wooing the audience. Despite his English, surprisingly limited for a U.S. resident of a quarter century, Tabuchi addresses the audience at every turn, even telling gentle jokes that poke fun at himself and at a friend and Branson competitor Mel Tillis.
"Folks, how 'bout put your hands together," Tabuchi says each time a member of his troupe completes a performance. His stock phrases are joined together with little more than genial smiles and conductorly dips of the forefinger. By the mid-show intermission the audience has accomodated itself to his speaking style. There are delightful moments when Tabuchi's strings of phrases somehow come together in conformity with grammatical conventions. It is marvelous to hear. PAGE 3
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