In the puppetry world, Monty has a pretty good track record. He is the president of one of the longest running puppet guilds in the UK, principal puppeteer of a large orange hand puppet called Velco (has a piece of Velco as a mouth). A puppet from a tv show Clouds that ran for 20 years on kids TV from 1972-1992.
It was a name that would pop up in different conversations. One day I did bit of googling and found he was a primary puppeteer at the Little Devil Theatre. So , I sent a letter to the theatre through the post. A few days later, he rang me. One thing led to another, and we arranged to meet for coffee in Covent Garden. Just out side the Punch and Judy pub below the balcony.
Over coffee we discussed his past projects, my ventures and goals and he casually mentioned that he operated marionettes. Before long, I was visiting his house for lessons. I was never really to fond of the marionettes, But after watching him operate one, a small wooden faceless clothed marionette dressed in his image. It stuck with me. I was always under the impression that you would never really have the same control that you would get from a rod, hand or shadow puppet. But he proved me wrong.
After the lessons we kept in contact. I would head over there if I had a new character to show him or just catch up. Most stories would revolve around his latest jobs. One day he even mentioned there was a crowdfunder where two authors were trying to get off the ground. Velco and Me. A book about his life and his carer. After it was released he got sued over a story in there. He made an affair of two performers from the show public. The Little Devil Theatre dropped him after 50 years of performing for them. They couldn't be associated with some of the stories. But later accepting him back.
A entire room of his victoria house was devoted to memorabilia from his time working on Clouds. Velco was printed on everything: stationery, lunchboxes, mugs — you name it, Velco had been on it. He mentioned people would regularly gift him things and it would get straight into the room.
The longer I knew him, the clearer it became that he was very guarded regarding work. Monty didn’t pull the strings — he waited for them to be handed to him.Names were never shared. Help never quite extended to advancing my own projects. He would talk endlessly about his projects, teach willingly, and pocket a bit of cash here and there, but always stopped just short of opening doors.
I heard stories of him occasionally visiting hospitals and care homes, performing for patients. Sweet, genuinely. And yet, there’s another side: he still travels to obscure conventions in forgotten UK towns, signing photos of the same puppet he performed decades ago. It was endearing — but also quietly sad, like watching someone chase the echo of applause long after the room has emptied. I once saw an interview online where he was being interviewed. He stated how much money his house was worth, what he would earn from year to year. It was stuff you wouldn't discuss with your close friends and family.