Showing posts with label Ringling Brothers Circus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ringling Brothers Circus. Show all posts

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Book Review: Dave Carlyon's "The Education of a Circus Clown"

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Dave Carlyon’s memoir, The Education of a Circus Clown, only minimally touches on the world of physical comedy, but it is a book that many of my blog readers should find interesting, especially those who have spent time with Ringling Brothers... thus this review.

Dave is quite the Renaissance man: writer, teacher, historian, actor, lawyer (!) and, last but not least, clown. His narrative of attending Clown College (1976) and touring with the Blue Unit (1977) stands above most circus memoirs not just because he’s a better writer —it’s a good read— but because he actually focuses on the performer’s struggles to stay vibrant and funny from day to day, audience to audience. He doesn’t try to pass himself off as a super clown, just as a reasonably skilled and talented individual learning his craft one mistake at a time.
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First, clowning is hard because clowning is easy. Throw on makeup, and some laughs are automatic. I-get-it laughs. I'm-a-free-spirit laughs. Ironic it's-not-funny-which-makes-it-funny laughs.... The various laughs convince rookies they're comic geniuses.
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The limited time, focus, and choice of material accorded to the Ringling clown is a challenge to creativity, both in terms of establishing a strong character and devising innovative physical comedy. The traditional routines Dave and hundreds before him performed in the ring and on the track —whipcracker; clown car; charivari; the walkarounds— all have potential for a more imaginative physicality, but rarely live up to that promise. It is while playing with the audience up in the seats that this First-of-May clown and future author learned his craft. How to relate, how to be real, how making a connection is more important than desperately seeking the big laugh. As he struggles with the divide between the popular image of the clown and the actual need to be funny, he comes to the conclusion that “clown” is not a noun but a verb. "I never imagined that grammar would improve my clowning." Actions are what define the clown, not the “look,” not all the preconceived notions. Amen.

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"Don't be clowny, be yourself," that's what Cuz had told me in Atlanta. But "be yourself" is a performance paradox, a gumbo of instinct, habit, and self-conscious awareness as you try to act, as a clown, in an exaggerated way that is simultaneously who you are. Watching Emmett Kelly at the Sarasota benefit in January, I hadn't been impressed. He  seemed to be doing nothing except nodding and greeting the crowd as he shuffled along. Now, more experienced with crowds, I recognized that he had been masterfully weaving a web of connection... Good clowns create human connections."
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The book is published by Palgrave Macmillan, which I assume markets to libraries, because the list price for this modest volume (the narrative comes to 165pp) is a whopping $95 ($82.46 on Amazon). Hopefully, there will soon be a paperback and/or Kindle edition so it can reach its natural audience, which I think will include many of you reading this review.

Also by Dave Carlyon: Dan Rice: The Most Famous Man You've Never Heard of

Click here to read Ernest Albrecht's review of Dave's book in Spectacle magazine.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Physical Comedy at the NY Clown-Theatre Festival

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Clown is to physical comedy as what is to what?

Yeah, I don't know either, but I think there's a reason we usually view clowns more in terms of moving than talking, and it's not just the association with the circus. Clowns are open and "naive" beings who wear their heart and their vulnerability on their sleeve. Everything is out there. Instead of hiding behind words, they sport these malleable bodies that glaringly reflect their aspirations and their downfalls. As the pioneering choreographer Martha Graham put it, "nothing is more revealing than movement."

And so it was at this year's seventh-annual, best-ever New York Clown-Theatre Festivalagain ably directed by the hard-working Audrey Crabtree and Robert Honeywell. I probably caught "only" half of the more than thirty shows staged in Williamsburg's vibrant Brick Theatre, but came away with a rich sampling of movement styles. I didn't go as a critic and didn't take any notes, so I'm just going to highlight two productions for their physical comedy chops, with honorable mentions to everyone else for strong work and some inspired moments.

The Dingbat Show

This is a bawdy and brash cabaret show out of L.A., with enough raw energy to take command in the noisiest bar setting. Not surprisingly, you don't go to this show for subtle and sensitive clown characterizations. Indeed, some people find Dingbat's humor on the cheap and crass side, while others absolutely love it and keep coming back. To my eye, some parts work brilliantly, others are flat and undeveloped, but if you're in the mood for some raucous fun, not to mention some gratuitous near-nudity (and sometimes I am), this is your show.

I'm singling out these dingbats not just because of their originality and their use of circus skills, but because they make broad knockabout comedy work for a "hip" audience. The troupe (Matthew Morgan, Tina Groff, Guilford Adams, Brandon Breault) has some Ringling clown experience, and they take slapstick that in the circus might come across as stale and tame and make it fresh and delightfully anarchistic. Offbeat characters — a heavily made-up circus clown, an artsy Shakespearean actor, an aggressive m.c. in a baggy suit, and a spunky young lady forever vying to hold her own with them — all slapping the hell out of one another. And did I mention the strip tease group club juggling finale? Drop a club, drop an item of clothing!

The videos below give a rough approximation of what I'm talking about, but for the full effect catch their act if you can.





Click here for the Dingbat Show web site.



Moving Stationery



"Take an object.  Do something to it.  Do something else to it."  — credo of artist Jasper Johns

This solo piece by the Lecoq-trained New Zealander Thom Monckton was for me the most imaginative show in the festival, which is saying a lot. Sigmund, a schlep of a guy, shows up for a new office job and his first day at work turns into a non-stop battle with the everyday objects that surround him and conspire to do him in. The show is endlessly inventive — you can readily envision Thom having spent hundreds of hours just experimenting with inanimate objects — but the resulting material is more than mere workshop improvisation. Everything works together seamlessly: his nervous character, his amazingly supple body, and the magical physical world he creates.

Here are a few samplers, but again don't miss seeing the whole show live if it comes your way!








Thom's work grows out of his collaboration with Kallo Collective, and he also performs in their three-person piece, Members of our Limbs. I only saw an excerpt of it at the festival, but it too was quite strong. Click here for more info.
Click here for the Moving Stationery web site.
Click here for a Jim Moore photo essay on Thom.