“I know I would make more money in downtown Boston, but in the Square, there will be that one person who stops and understands what I’m doing,” she says.
Palmer began performing in the Square after spending time in Germany, where she developed her first living statue persona, “Princess Roulette.”
She would stand on a large roulette wheel dressed as a ballerina. Depending on where the wheel landed, Palmer would give out trinkets to members of the audience.
When she moved back to Boston in the summer of 1997, Palmer says she hoped to set up the princess character in the Pit area, but there was too much equipment.
She found the bridal gown at the Garment District—and Harvard Square’s first living statue was born.
Completely unrecognizable in her street clothes—baggy olive-green pants and long faux fur coat—Palmer says the consensus among street performers is that Harvard Square business peaked around the 1980s.
She performed in the Square after the Sept. 11 attacks and says she was disappointed that the audience was completely unresponsive.
“There was the combination of the weather, the terrorist attacks, the predictable but devastating return of students [her worst audience]...it was like I was invisible,” Palmer says.
According to Jason Weeks, who issues performer permits as the executive director of the Cambridge Arts Council (CAC), other long-time performers have also recently turned away from the Square.
“Suddenly, they’re seeing stores being taken away and places like Abercrombie & Fitch and Pacific Sunwear coming in,” Weeks says. “This has a psychological impact.”
He mentions the loss of “Jim the Juggler,” who spent about eight years performing a popular show in Brattle Square.
“He was a splendid juggler—one of the best out there,” Weeks says. “What he said to me was that there’s just a different crowd. The feedback just wasn’t as welcoming as it once was.”
But for newer, part-time performers, the Square has not lost its cachet.
This past summer Webb covered her body in silver paint each weekend and performed on a street corner outside Pacific Sunwear, posing as a silver bunny.
In costume, Webb wears a tarnished silver dress, ripped stockings on her arms and legs and large rabbit ears. Combining the symbol of the Playboy bunny with ripped and ragged clothing, she says the costume is meant to be a political statement about the contradictory aspects of femininity.
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