This is a hard blog to start. It’s a hard blog to start because I’m trying to get it “right.” What will draw my dear blog reader in? Maybe throw in a Jaques Lecoq quote so you look smart? Maybe make a Ronald McDonald clown joke? This same feeling daunted me when embarking on Clown Camp - the fear of the unknown and of getting it right. Sure, I’d done a bit of clowning before but having previously worked with Amy, I knew this was set to be unlike anything I’d ever done before. And, whilst trying to not get everything right, boy, I wasn’t wrong.
Clowning Queen, Amy Gwilliam, put us through our paces on a three day intensive Clown Camp. “Clown Camp?” I hear you ask “Sounds like fun! It’s just like red noses and making people laugh and stuff, right?” Absolutely not - well, maybe a bit of that BUT it’s also about humanity (woop big word) This is a quality that performers and directors alike grapple with and strive to attain. A word so intrinsically linked with what many artists aspire to have; vulnerability and truth. Many may assume (as I did) that you’re doing the complete opposite of that with clown. Putting on a nose, trying to make the audience laugh, adopting affectation etc. but actually, as Amy puts it, clowning is the most sensitive of sports, and one that requires a huge amount of technique, whilst wearing the smallest mask in the world that reveals the most (that is actually a quote from somewhere – just saying.)
The idea of The Theatre of The Unknown was introduced to us early on, which actually seemed to comfort us as a group. You’re not meant to know what’s going on or what’s going to happen next or what to do because, guess what? No one does! Phew, okay, now we’ve got that out the way we can actually have some fun. Just take a risk in not knowing. There’s a lot of fun to being aware that you’re unaware. It’ll all make sen