Success in palm of her hand

Five puppeteers, a drummer, a traditional Korean pan-sori singer and an accordionist will bring alive the folk tale of “Bari Gongju” at the Korean Cultural Center on Saturday.

But the story of how Korean artist and doll maker Eum Jeong Ae came to stage the show in Los Angeles is as fascinating as the legend of the princess Bari itself.

Eum, 49, a single mother who reared two daughters in her native Seoul, began making dolls as gifts when she was in college in the 1970s. She devoted more than two decades to her craft, fashioning intricate hand puppets from everyday objects such as gloves, newspaper and cardboard tubes.

That her folksy art survived in hyper-Westernized modern South Korea was not enough -- it earned her notice in the United States. Eum brought her work to Minneapolis from 2000 to 2002 for the prestigious In the Heart of the Beast Puppet and Mask Theatre May Day Parade and Festival.

“Not only is Eum Jeong Ae keeping the art form alive,” says puppet designer Beth Peterson, who collaborated on “Bari Gongju,” “she’s giving it another birth.”

Eum has done so by applying her craft to a stage show that rekindles the folk tale of an exiled princess who nonetheless saves her kingdom.

The production, financed in part by a grant from the Jim Henson Foundation, an organization devoted to the art of puppetry, tells a story rooted in shamanistic legend and handed down though generations by Korean mothers and grandmothers.

Born to a king and queen who pined for a male heir, Bari is banished from the kingdom. The princess is adopted and reared by an elderly couple. Upon hearing that her father the king is dying, Bari begins a quest to find healing waters to cure him. The princess, beset by challenges, saves many destitute souls along the way.

Like the couple who take care of Bari, Eum also has helped adoptees. Six years ago in a Seoul suburb, Eum opened a teahouse that became a rest stop for Korean American adoptees -- people born in South Korea but raised by American families, who returned to Seoul to search for their birth parents.

It was through an adoptee’s ties in the U.S. that Eum’s dolls came to be exhibited at the Indianapolis Museum of Art. Peterson met Eum in 1999 while working at an event called “DMZ 2000,” a theater performance at the demilitarized zone in Korea.

“The story is so important,” says Peterson, associate artistic director of the Minneapolis theater, the third-largest devoted to puppetry in the U.S. “We live in a world that’s individual-oriented, and Bari’s journey is for the good of the people -- that’s why we wanted to bring it to the community.

“Bari goes on an incredible journey.... All the suffering souls say, ‘Take us with you.’ She embodies something much larger than herself.”

And while mounting a show that preserves an ancient legend sounds noble, Eum and Peterson’s goal is to stage the show in Seoul -- eventually.

In 2001, Eum, Peterson and U.S. puppeteer Andrew Kim had a chance to workshop and perform several scenes of the Bari puppet show at a university in South Korea for the first time.

“There is no arts funding for puppetry in Korea,” Eum says, “so Beth proposed we bring it to the U.S.”

Says Peterson, “This L.A. version draws from the original workshop and also gave us the opportunity to further develop the piece.”

Eum’s sense of purpose is not lost on those who will participate in the production. “She was trying to revive our cultural identity using traditional materials, forms and stories,” says local artist and puppeteer Jamie Kim.

The whimsical stars of Saturday’s production -- performed in Korean and English, with musical accompaniment -- will be made of mulberry-tree paper, newspaper, glue and cardboard, all testimony to one of puppetry’s leading lights.

“Eum’s role is significant,” Peterson says. “There are only a few Korean puppet artists remaining.”

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‘Bari Gongju’

Where: Korean Cultural Center, Ari Hall, 5505 Wilshire Blvd., L.A.

When: 1 and 2:30 p.m. Saturday

Price: Free

Info: Reservations (323) 936-7141, Ext. 131