Clowns demonstrate high level of art

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Nine first- and second-year students at the Centre for Indigenous Theatre (CIT) presented a clown showcase in the auditorium of the Native Canadian Centre of Toronto on Feb. 20. The showcase featured clown work from the European theatre tradition.

"This is not slapstick comedy," director Mark Christmann said. "There are no violent moves. It's not like circus clowns. These clowns are capable of more subtlety and nuance, because the audience can see the performers' faces.

"This kind of clowning is genuine, but still fantastical. It's playful and sophisticated, but not insane," Christmann said.

The playfulness emerged at the outset, with the clowns' outfits: doggie slippers and military camouflage, a wedding dress paired with a motorcycle helmet, a nightgown worn with a pilot's leather flight cap, and a fringed hide dress and toque. Each clown wore a small red nose, and many of the clowns incorporated a contrary or Native clown aspect to their outfits by dressing in articles of clothing usually worn by the opposite sex.

The sophistication manifested itself in the material. In the opening skit, the clowns were ostensibly rehearsing a Shakespearean play, but they kept doing things that were totally wrong (such as breaking into a strangled version of the group Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody). So director Christmann-who played the role of Monsieur Loyal, the owner of the theatre where the clowns were performing-kept sending them back to start again.

"That's not what we rehearsed!" Monsieur Loyal said at one point. "Look at the shape you're in. What did I tell you about straight lines?"

His exasperation with the clowns drew big laughs from the mostly Native crowd, which understood that the underlying point was about conformance and fluidity (or the lack of it).

"Monsieur Loyal is a pedagogical tool," Christmann explained of his double function as director and actor. "Without him, the clowns would be in a constant state of play. They need authority.

"He can be mean, but he also dispenses love. He admonishes them, because the clowns must learn."

The interactions between the clowns and Monsieur Loyal were part of the act, but also part of Christmann's instruction, since the actors must also learn. Monsieur Loyal's admonitions-and Christmann's explanatory comments-lent the showcase an openness that deconstructed the art process, turning it into an intriguing combination of workshop and performance.

The performances featured a lot of improvisation and some very real emotion, which prompted Christmann to describe the clowns' activities as "pandemonium and trauma." The skits were sometimes laugh-out-loud funny and sometimes quietly surprising. They were simple and focused on one idea-such as a clown who convinced another clown that her feather boa was a cat, or a clown who gave birth to a "bouncing baby ball"-so the humour emerged from the clowns' precise movements, their interaction with each other, the use of their costumes, the completion of a task, or a payoff pun.

Although the CIT students are beginners in the art of clowning, the evening was an absolute delight. Every skit drew genuine smiles and laughter.

Jeremiah Paulette-Jewett's solo performance-a difficult piece in which his clown tried to sing despite having lost his voice-was well-acted, and his reaction to Monsieur Loyal's criticisms was heartbreakingly sweet.

When second-year student Patti Shaughnessy sat down and looked at the audience, the humour emerged from the audience's realization that there was no joke-that they, in fact, were the joke. It was an exercise in returning the artistic gaze, and it fit right in with the deconstructed nature of the showcase.

As she proved in last year's CIT production of Waiora, Shaughnessy is one of CIT's strongest student performers. She is comfortable in her body, and she betrays not a hint of nervousness. Shaughnessy also understands that less is sometimes more, so she keeps her facial expresions and emotional reactions subtle.

Richard Brennan joined Shaughnessy-and the chair, which was by this point almost another character-for some physical comedy. While Brennan sat on the chair, Shaughnessy climbed under it from behind and emerged in front, as though birthed from between Brennan's legs. Brennan then hoisted Shaughnessy up and twirled her around in lopsided circles. When Shaughnessy climbed onto the back of the chair, Brennan lifted her onto his back from behind, then onto his shoulders as he rose to a standing position. It was physically demanding work that elicited applause for its precision, audacity, and sheer ridiculousness.

Some of the humour was surreal. Brennan did a good bit in which he turned his doggie slippers into real dogs. They yipped when he put the slippers on-forcing Brennan to comfort them with a "poor doggie" look on his face-and they keeled over at the smell of his feet. The slippers also tried to make friends with another clown's feather boa, which was rather dangerous since the boa had been turned into a cat.

Patrick Bird's growly Weesakeechuk communicated in an unintelligible language, which was funny enough. But the audience erupted when he portrayed Native culture's most famous clown as a nervous swimmer. When Weesakeechuk tested a lake by dipping his toes into a blue mat on the floor, he found it too cold and lapsed into a shocked gibberish. When he finally dived in-which Bird accomplished using a perfectly executed somersault-he got freaked out by lake critters and algae (actually pieces of fur and black electrical tape). Bird's performance was utterly captivating and very funny.

Guest performer Scott Debassige started the show as a Sioux-style heyoka medicine clown. Unfortunately, his performance was no match for the CIT students' subtle and sophisticated clown skills. Although Debassige told the audience he was a contrary, he never showed it. He did have a mask on the back of his head, but he faced the audiece at all times, talking directly to them. He went for cheap laughs-wandering throughout the crowd, sitting on people's laps-and even cheaper meaning, telling an utterly pedestrian story about an eagle losing its identity and thinking it was a chicken. The message was heavy-handed, not at all funny, and too earnest by half.

The CIT students are obviously benefiting from Christmann's professional instruction. Debassige had mounds of props-a feathered staff, a bear-paw glove, shells and other ornaments, a hand drum, a mask, and who knows what else-but he still wasn't a clown. The CIT students, on the other hand, became their characters by wearing one or two items that looked like they came from Goodwill or a Salvation Army depot. If there's a lesson here, it's that clothes don't make the clown.