Catapult Artist Intensive

My Adventures at Catapult

An Essay by Luis Castillo Silva

I recall that it was shortly after a successful performance of The Friendly Chupacabra—a show created by my mentor in puppetry, Lisa Sturz, under the aegis of her company Red Herring Puppets to teach children both English and Spanish here in the borderlands of Tucson, Arizona, and beyond—that I spotted a brochure on Lisa’s living room table with a stunning cover of a puppeteer enveloped in a massive buffalo puppet walking along a field of wild grass in front of  a brilliant orange sunset. 

After a brief glimpse inside, which offered an entire galaxy of puppet shows and workshops, I learned that it was for the 2025 Chicago International Puppet Theater Festival. I immediately knew that, as a novice puppeteer, I had to go, as this was simply too good an opportunity to ignore—the knowledge and inspiration here would most assuredly nurture my burgeoning journey into this art form. After doing some research and getting financial aid from my incredibly supportive and wonderful mother, I found information on the festival’s website about the Catapult Artist Intensive. 

Billed as “two professional development weekends designed to advance the form and expand understanding of the field of puppetry in the United States,” the Catapult Artist Intensive also promised a guided experience of the festival with many unique perks. Given the sheer size of the event (shows and workshops take place across the city of Chicago), Catapult’s transportation of guests from show to show alone seemed worth the price of admission. 

When I was packing my clothing, I had more than one person, including my sister who graciously let me stay with her for the entirety of the festival, text me reminders to pack layers. After checking those messages on my phone, I shrugged and displayed a tremendous amount of hubris and assumed everyone was overly worried. Surely, a hoodie would be enough to deal with the cold! But after a seven-hour delay caused by engine troubles that had me arriving past  midnight at the O’Hare airport, I quickly learned that a hoodie was not enough protection for the human body from weather that local Chicagoans, with good cheer, told me was known as “the Hawk”—perhaps, I thought, for its ability to effortlessly cut right through you like a bird of prey. Writing this down now makes it all seem so obvious in hindsight, but in my defense, I will say that I was born and raised in the Sonoran Desert—one of the hottest regions in America—and I had actually never experienced subzero weather before.

After finally flying into Chicago, I texted my sister, a student at Northwestern University, that I had arrived and was ready to be picked up. When she pulled up at the gate, I walked out into the snow and saw her gasp in shock before she got out of the driver’s seat of her car to hustle me inside, where she gave me a righteous scolding about proper weather preparation. Thankfully for me, my sister very quickly helped me find an incredibly warm green jacket that I wore for the entirety of the festival.

And what a wonderful festival it was. (Even in spite of the freezing cold!)

I am slightly ashamed to say that I was late to the initial meeting for Session I that first week—which was held in a ballroom in the lovely Warwick Allerton Hotel in downtown Chicago—where fellow attendees introduced themselves, so I swore that I would make up for this and speak to everyone I could one on one. This, I quickly realized, was the true highlight of the intensive—by being able to freely talk with other puppeteers, I was able to gain so many incredible pieces of wisdom. Questions that I had been considering for a while were answered easily, entire routes for potential career paths were uncovered in the blink of an eye, and just being able to talk to people who were truly dedicated to this craft made me feel both inspired and welcomed. 

A moment that stood out to me was after the first Nasty, Brutish & Short puppet slam. The show was incredible and felt like a vivid dream, as puppeteers brought entire worlds to life onstage. The show went on well into the night, so my transportation with Catapult had to leave without me, but host Samuel J. Lewis II offered me a ride to my sister’s place since we were nearby. Driving down the streets of Chicago at night, Sam and I had such an incredible conversation talking about his storied career, the things we had seen that day, and what we were looking forward to in the week to come. But more than just the conversation, I felt truly happy knowing that the people involved with Catapult would go above and beyond to make sure that I was taken care of here.

However, even though I couldn’t take it that night due to staying up very, very late, Catapult’s transportation service was still very much a star in its own right. Traversing Chicago in the freezing cold was no simple task, and being able to link up with my group took that worry right out of my anxious self. Here, I saw incredible shows ranging from the terrifyingly dramatic (Manual Cinema’s The Fourth Witch and Plexus Polaire’s A Doll’s House), the gut-bustingly hilarious (Blind Summit’s Sex Lives of Puppets), and the truly profound that left me in tears (K.T. Shivak’s Rhynoceron and Alva Puppet Theater’s Harlem Doll Palace), most of which I do not believe I would have seen without the existence of the festival.

The one thing that I do wish there were more of was workshops, most of which I had to sign up for separately and some of which clashed with the schedule for shows. Thankfully, this was not an issue at all for me since, with just some careful planning, I could take a workshop and link up with my group later. (A task made easy by WhatsApp, which is what we used to stay in touch with each other.) 

All in all, the Catapult Artist Intensive was, and I do not say this lightly, a truly life-altering experience. I left this event feeling inspired, full of renewed hope and joyous in the knowledge that I had met many incredible people (far too many to list here) whom I eagerly anticipate seeing again once I return to the festival. 

This time, I’ll pack layers and I’ll be ready for the hawk’s bite.