to want to be ridiculous

We talk on the train, Luke and Christy and I. Christy says “He gives room for you. He doesn’t give anything but room for you. If it’s not you, get off the stage.”

I’ve been thinking about how to be a clown you have to want to be ridiculous.

I tell Luke and Christy about a memory I have of being teeny tiny. I must have been less than five because it’s before we came to Australia. After reading the story of Winnie the Pooh and Piglet and the Heffalump I had a scary dream that the heffalump was going to come and get me. Chris, my dad, came to be with me and I told him all about the scary heffalump. In the morning, when he didn’t know I was listening, he told the story to a group of grown ups around him. So it was a story about a child who is gorgeous, cute and scared but also actually ridiculous. They all laughed so hard.

And I didn’t want people to laugh at me. It gave me a little sick feeling in my tummy and I didn’t want to be ridiculous.

Dear world. I changed my mind. I'm ready to be ridiculous again.

We talk on the train about being dignified and laugh about our friends who are less dignified and what is so good about spending time with them.

In the changerooms, Josie lends me her hairspray so I can go wild with it.

Here she is as the disgusting cleaning woman.

The exercise today is to come on stage and pretend to be French, say some words and look pleased with ourselves. Say them loudly.

He is giving individual people the direction to be loud, but I had to check if it was for everyone. (including me?) He says. “yes of course.”

So I pull at Danny’s shoulder to ask how I could be loud and subtle at the same time. He says, “Have pleasure.”

So I try. But it is hard. I talk to Philippe about what is hard as I try to do the exercise. I say, ‘it’s not fun enough’ and he says to do the exercise and then say in a small voice to myself ‘bravo, ailsa, well done’. I have a few tries, shifting the words around and as I do people laugh. They laugh in that way where it really feels like they are on my side, which is really nice. Then he changes the text, he wants me to say ‘Bravo. Something is coming,’ but it’s confusing for me. I’m not sure why he has given me that line and it stops being fun. He stops me and moves on.

He gives Luke a chunk of time on stage. He asks him where he lived when he was 8 years old. In Cheltenham, how did they say ‘I’m going to break your face.’? He wants Luke to say that to him. It’s good. Luke is his-self in a sweet way up there. He tells the story about the day he made the school bully fall on his face. He says he doesn’t really like hurting people. It’s embarrassed, honest, truth-telling and we laugh lightly with him. I think about how Luke lived in the world of macho boys and then in the world of being good for all the feminist ladies. Double whammy of not showing yourself.

I took photos in the break.

Here’s Lilly in her butcher outfit. Gold.

Then we did duo. Taking it in turns to be in major.

Enter, see the audience, then change your walk to make it funny. When the music stops, look at the audience, look at your friend and decide who is going to start the show. With pleasure. Then pretend to be French. Listen to the flop, Hand over to your partner for be in major.

“If your friend start, you don’t dribble on his balls.” (brilliant Gaulier moment for don’t upstage your partner if it’s their go.)

He was his usual complimentary self: ‘These character, they are not clown. They are just Orphan. Orphan in a special house for orphan after the war in Afghanistan.”

Not about me because I didn’t have a go. (funny little moment of feeling like no-one would want to go with me, such a bad idea to run with that one)

On the train home Christy offered a general invitation to dinner at our apartment and then she went ahead and cooked for 12. We all squished in beautifully and there was a lot of raucous cuteness as Christy knocked out dinner with some help and the Brazilian boys took over the stereo and the guy in the apartment across the street stuck his head out the window to see what was going on.

cute clowns squished up in our apartment

I left them to it and went with some others to see Pina. Which was beautiful, in a slow and stunning way and I wished I had my book to scribble notes in. A procession of such beautiful images. Ready to have my heart broken again and again.