'orrible

Caught the met to clown school again this morning. And here it is, our station. (I like the font for the sign. We would never have this font in Australia. We take our public transport way to seriously and it makes me just a little bit angry with my country.)

Did acro in the Cite Universitaire park in the sun. Trying stuff Luke and Christy learned in Holland, a pull up thighstand to two and a half high. Just wait, It’ll be in Kapow.

The new thing that I heard today was that the Clown is always missing the timing. With the stand up comedian, we laugh when they want us to laugh. Whereas the clown does something that she thinks is funny and the audience doesn’t laugh. What is funny is the clown’s confusion at the fact that the audience didn’t laugh. The moment after the flop.

The pleasure on people’s faces when we play Samuel Says and they end up being tortured, ‘Chinese burn! Guillotine! Guantanamo!’ he says as he twists people round and their faces are flushed and hilarious and sparkling (though it does actually hurt a bit). What is it that is so fabulous about being tortured? And about that moment when you finish performing and he says, “ ‘orrible, boring. To-tally boring. You get a zeero."

Something about it gives me a big sense of stupid happy relief.

Today he said about me, “If she was your daughter at a party and someone ask you, 'is she your daughter?' do you say, 'yes, She’s my daughter,' or 'no, I don’t know her at all?' I think you don’t know her at all.” It was the best part of what happened to me on stage.

Today’s exercises:

Do a noise (a Chinese pressure cooker, king kong) and then take pleasure in the noise you just made.

Be funny by doing a stupid voice/gibberish/stutter.