THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, September 14, 1994 TAG: 9409140042
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY TERESA ANNAS, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 142 lines
THE MYSTIQUE OF THE circus has lured American children and their parents for two centuries. Those powerful pachyderms, shaking the earth with every step! Terrifying tigers, driven to daring feats by mere humans! Stately stallions! Balletic bears! All observed from a semi-safe distance on stadium seats traversed by sellers of cotton candy, sodas and peanuts.
There is that mystique.
But what of this mystic? Mystic is only slightly too strong a word for the gentle, enigmatic Khris Allen, tiger choreographer for the new age.
Allen is a featured act with Clyde Beatty-Cole Bros. Circus, the world's largest circus under the big top and set for Norfolk performances Friday through Sunday.
Allen does not train ferocious felines. He sets movement on intelligent beings.
He does not force these majestic creatures with luxurious coats to jump through fire, which they fear. He engages them in ``natural behavior'' acts. In unison, they roll and jump and rise on their haunches in a begging posture.
These are happy, healthy tigers. There's Zeus, the male liger (half lion and tiger) and 16-year-old Tito, the elder of the bunch. And there's Simba, the female liger, and Orissa, a white female Bengal tiger.
These cats do more purring than roaring.
``You get a lot more from sugar than you do with vinegar,'' said Allen, hinting at his strategy.
On Friday, Allen and the 200 other members of the Beatty-Cole troupe prepared for shows in Northern Virginia. It was a familiar ritual. Early that morning, neighborhood kids watched in awe as harnessed elephants helped raise the blue-and-white striped big top. Pretty as a beach house awning.
As dozens of workers set up bleachers and high-wire gadgetry, animal trainers - like shepherds - tended to their creatures.
Allen, 26, may as well have been resting beneath a banyan tree in Bengal, India, homeland for his tigers. He looked relaxed as a cat, one long, thin arm tracing a circle on the ground like a tail. Eight tigers and two ligers rested in cages beside him. A tarp shaded the group from a searing late summer sun.
The trainer moved close to one cage, and stuck his hands through the bars. ``Simba,'' Allen purred, as he rubbed under the chin of the pleasuring tiger. In response, Simba extended her wide textured tongue to Allen's nose, which protruded through the bars.
Allen's licked face appeared blissful. Honey drooled from his expression.
``She likes to kiss dad. All of them do,'' stressed Allen, looking downright saintly with his long, wavy golden hair and quiet eyes. He looked as slim as an ascetic and projected kindliness and confidence, both in rare measures.
``I have never been scared of tigers,'' he began. ``A lot of people have this idea about tigers being bloodthirsty beasts. But if you give them positive reinforcement, if you treat them like a friend, they're going to treat you the same way.
``It's not like these cats were snatched from the wild. They're 10th to 15th generation in captivity. They have been raised with hands-on contact, from the day they were born.
``These guys are just big.''
Allen puts his theory to the test daily. This is no abstract exam, either. His life and limb are at stake.
His style is very different from that of Clyde Beatty, who snapped his whip at roaring cats from the 1920s into the '60s.
``Clyde Beatty had a bravado style: `I am the greatest man in the world going in with these savage beasts!' In that day and time, that's what people wanted to see - man winning against animal.
``But I want people to see that you can develop a relationship with animals.''
Allen will tell you that tigers are just very large housecats. They like to be hugged and rubbed, and they like to play. They will be your pal once you get to know them, and if you're nice to them. But they do like to pounce from the rear, and a playful swat might result in stitches.
This is only Allen's second year as tiger trainer. He has been hurt only once. During feeding time, a hungry tiger reached through the meat, ``and happened to grab my hand.''
The wound looked like a big fish hook had pierced his palm. The offending tiger rubbed against the cage with seeming remorse. ``It was if she was saying, `Oh, I know I hurt you. I'm sorry.'
``It was incredible to see that. It was almost worth getting hurt to see that reaction.''
Life isn't always so sweet with his charges. Later, during the daily two-hour ``playtime'' when Allen and the cats romp freely in the big cage, two cats had a ferocious fight. It lasted no more than ten seconds, but resulted in one cat losing a tooth.
That has only happened once before in the three years he has been with the cats, Allen said.
Looking like Daniel in the lion's den, he quietly knelt to retrieve the lost tooth. He handed it through the cage to his assistant. Like any dad would, he checked out the mouth of the tiger with one less tooth. Then he examined the leg of the other fighting tiger, checking for injury.
Many circus performers are part of a family, developing uncommon skills that get passed on for generations. The Logans are one such Beatty-Cole circus family. Veteran elephant trainer Fred ``Cap'' Logan, 68, is the patriarch and is now assisted in the ring by his granddaughter Solange Logan Zerbini. At 14, Solange is believed to be the world's youngest elephant trainer.
Allen is different. He got his start as an assistant to the previous trainer - Kathleen Umstead, a family friend. He had just completed his bachelor's degree in biology from West Georgia College when the circus came to town. He visited Umstead, who let him hold a newborn tiger.
He was hooked. As Umstead's aide, he developed a relationship with the tigers. When she returned to college, Allen took over.
``You know how you look for something in life that just feels right? That's how I feel now.''
Training tigers is like training any sort of creature, he said. ``Just show 'em how to do it. And they do it.''
There's a little more to it than that, he admits. His usual process: Holding a piece of meat as reward, Allen lures a tiger to make a given move. Once accomplished, the cat gets the meat and lots of petting.
``What is it about working with the tigers that I like? I guess it's the sensationalism - that I can develop a relationship with an animal believed to be vicious and hands off. I'm testing the envelope. And I like proving the zoologists wrong. That you can have a hands-on relationship with these animals.
``And all animals deserve that.''
How long does he expect to work with these tigers?
``As long as the tigers are here.''
Life expectancy: 25 years. Current age range: 10 months to 16 years.
Allen has a mission. All the risks are worth it, he said, ``if I go in there and perform and there's one person who is touched - one person who goes `Wow, look at those beautiful animals!' I'm out there to display the tigers, not myself.''
He wants to stir affection and concern for these animals in the hearts of patrons.
``Grownups tend to be so close-minded. But the kids - those are the people who will make a difference.'' ILLUSTRATION: IAN MARTIN/Staff color photos
TOP: Fred Logan is a veteran elephant trainer.
RIGHT: Khris Allen is in his second year as tiger trainer for the
Clyde Beatty-Cole Bros. Circus.
Photo
IAN MARTIN/Staff
Elephant rides are given before and after the circus and at
intermission. Children and adults may ride for $3 each.
by CNB