He’s Not Talking : Mark Wenzel, a Performer at the Fair for 17 Years, Has Become Pretty Good About Letting His Actions Speak for Him

Having clowned his way around the Los Angeles County Fair for 17 years, consummate mime Mark Wenzel, 46, has become something of a celebrity--if not an institution--at the Fairplex in Pomona.

Folks who visit the fair, which runs through Sept. 29, will be hard-pressed to miss the unicycled Wenzel zip around the grounds in loud silence. On a recent afternoon, The Times caught up with the silent thespian in the posh board room office of the Fairplex administration building.

The Times: Some people hate mimes. Some people really, really hate mimes. How do you deal with that?

The Mime: Shakes his head, points to himself and mouths, “Me? Oh, no. Not me.” He pats himself on the head, indicating that unlike his box-encased brethren, he shuns those classically loathsome mime maneuvers which inspire mass hatred.

The Times: Still, what do you do when someone wants you to go away?

The Mime: Takes a huge step forward.

The Times: Takes a step back.

The Mime: Takes another step forward. A chase ensues. There is much leaping over expensive leather chairs. And an occasional yelp.

The Times: OK, I think we get the point.

The Mime: Smiles.

The Times: How long have you been at this pantomime thing, anyway?

The Mime: Crouches over as though walking with a cane in his hand and a boulder on his back. He flashes one hand five times, as in 25 years.

The Times: Over the years, have any sounds made their way into your act?

The Mime: Makes a kissy noise and swivels his hips. He then does an exaggerated yawn, followed by a phlegmy cough. Apparently, it all depends upon the mood and health of the audience member he means to taunt.

The Times: Do you have standard props?

The Mime: Pulls an imaginary rope and spits an imaginary beverage into the air.

The Times: No, like, real props.

The Mime: Mouths, “Oh.” Pointing to his unicycle, he holds up 10 fingers to indicate the age at which he first learned to ride.

The Times: Why would a 10-year-old learn to ride a unicycle?

The Mime: Mimics a kid playing a video game, and then puts his thumb down.

It is among the most simple of Wenzel’s gesticulations, but it speaks volumes. In his quiet way, the mime tells of a boyhood filled with stringent rules, of parents who prohibited him from enjoying the same destructive, brain-numbing activities in which other kids could partake. At an early age, his unicycle--as silent and solitary as Wenzel himself, marked the boy as different.

Of course, the white makeup didn’t help any, either.

The Times: Wow. Thank you for sharing that story, Mr. Wenzel.

The Mime: Nods, puts one hand to his ear and mouths, “You’re welcome, I’ll call you.”