Burnt Umber

The Combustibles

A woman clown, her fashionable clothes ripped and dirtied arrives onstage; she is momentarily paralyzed by her “surprise” at seeing the audience. This is a convention of clown shows, one that should be examined carefully before it is used. In this case it did not serve the show, the character did not find a way to recover her aplomb, and engage her audience. She merely ran off to get her partner and they dragged on a cart heaped with trash.

My first notation, written a minute into the show, was, “BREATHE!” The actors went full steam ahead into their story, and seldom took a breath. I wanted a chance to see the characters before they started their corporate rat race. Breathing would help them to remember the audience, to see and be seen, and to look for our approval for their accomplishments and failures.

They proceeded to create a corporate world of files and board meetings. The references to the world were astute and nicely drawn. The characters inhabited it fully and I had many laughs of recognition. The cart’s trash was all office paraphernalia and they cleverly filed and typed and answered phones. When the “file for the Board Meeting” went missing, a game of blame and ducking responsibility ensued.

This world of business out of trash seemed out of place in the world of clown. The characters were only clowns by dint of their red noses. I wanted them to make a choice: If they are clowns playing at corporation, the need to enjoy the game, take themselves less seriously. If they are bag ladies remembering their past lives, they need to lose the noses, and find the real pathos that this situation demands. Or are they are real corporate secretaries after the cataclysm? Making a clear choice will give them a stronger structure on which to hang their show.