THOTH

As a one-man opera and sub-creator, S.K. Thoth, stands amongst those who have inspired and gone before him. His life, philosophy, mythological world and ultimately what he calls his “death dance” are a fine balance of earlier methods from many areas of art, literature, music, and drama; he is one born as a new leaf upon the great tree. A primary influence, who will remain with him his entire life, is J.R.R. Tolkien, author of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. This piece endeavors to explore the creative process of the mythological work of S.K. Thoth, along with his philosophy on creativity, spirituality, and sub-creation.

Without the intent of being a guru, or indeed any leader—spiritual or otherwise—Thoth sets off his prayformances with healthy blocks of unpretentious, free-flowing talk. People are invited—not by signs or physical prompts of feigned openness but by his affable energy—to talk to him. They come in droves. They may begin by asking about his loin-cloth or about the language he sings in—and inevitably they end by getting a profound insight to their soul, to the state of affairs here in New York City, in our sad country, or on our overburdened and under-appreciated planet. SK Thoth serves as New York’s spiritual Uncle and he indulges in more than dusty, unusable proverbs. He helps us find the path we should Be on.

The music is mesmerizing. In a voice that ranges from a Tibetan monkish baritone to a pristine soprano, Thoth (a.k.a. Stephen Kaufman, who lives in Jamaica, Queens) sings his ritual epics, while whirling, fiddling, and accompanying himself on bells wrapped around his ankles.

You never forget the first time you experience S.K. Thoth. Costumed like an ancient Greek superhero, complete with loincloth and a red feathered headdress, he is a striking sight to behold. Then he opens his mouth and begins to sing in his three range operatic voice, with a violin on his shoulder, dancing like a man possessed by something otherworldly, stomping rhythms with his heeled sandals and belled ankles making an indelible impression in your mind.

Looking like a cross between a Roman gladiator, an Egyptian high priest and an Indian shaman, the one-named Thoth is a regular at the park's Angel of the Waters Fountain at 72nd Street — and a guy many consider to be the most talented street musician in the city.

This may sound like some blissed-out New Age freak show, but Thoth is no flake—he's mad only north-northwest, as the saying goes. "What I am doing is myth making," says the artist, who holds a comp-lit degree from San Francisco State.

It is a Saturday in Central Park. He wears black high heels, a gold loincloth, a scarlet plume just below his long dreadlocks, some ornamental jewelry and not much else. He plays the violin, but his music is secondary to his transcendent voice, plus his outlandish appearance. It's hard to say which of these attributes is most responsible for attracting 50 or so passersby to his performance — eccentric even by New York standards — but Thoth can draw them in.

"[Thoth] gives a dazzling, beautiful performance," said Curt Johnson of Manhattan, who often goes to the park to watch Thoth. Johnson, whose public relations-marketing firm, New World Inc., specializes in celebrity clients, says Thoth "is one to watch because he's destined to become a star act."

"When I was younger, I was depressed and I had a mentor who encouraged me to look into mythology as a way of finding a self to develop," he says. "Hermes, the fleet-footed god of communication, was most similar to who I was. I have African ancestry and started searching that mythology, and I found that Hermes is Thoth, so I became Thoth."

In his latest work, a three-act, three-CD opera titled "The Herma: The Life and Land of Nular-in" that was inspired by Wagner's "Der Ring Des Nibelungen," Thoth creates a mythological land called Festad that is populated by a people called Mir. After four ages of growth, decay sets in and a Mir named Nular-in destroys the plague-ridden land and creates a new one.