
What a week!
Four shows in four days. Two outdoors, one a large community amphitheater. Two indoors in large rooms, one brimming with over 200, the other far fewer.
During the first two, I had to respond to uncharted territory on the fly, from an uncomfortably unfamiliar setting to an uncharacteristically unusual and unexpected performer's prep gaffe. Serendipity and grace proved to be this clown's spiritual partner and stage hand at the most opportune of times.
Serendipity and grace seem to be related. "Serendipity" is defined as the gift of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for. And, “for grace to be grace, it must give us things we didn’t know we needed and take us places where we didn’t know we didn’t want to go.” (Kathleen Norris)
Monday's show was in an outdoor amphitheater backed right up against the town's busiest intersection. No sound system, either, just my boom box. Did I mention I don't speak during my 45-minute show? Needless to say, I was pretty anxious going into this show.
Serendipity landed in the front row -- a grandpa, big and well muscled, the perfect "strong man" volunteer, a grandma from San Francisco who happened to love live performance art, and their adorable granddaughter, who was eager to help out the clown-in-trouble. The show took off and never landed; the whole audience and I had a great time.
Tuesday's show almost flopped before it even started. A half hour before show time, as I was doing the final setup, I couldn't find my two newspaper gags. I'd accidently left them at home, 45 minutes away.
Panic. Then clarity. I'd try to construct one of the gags from materials there. The library staff and intern scrambled. Newspapers, pipe cleaners, glue stick, paper bag, and 10 minutes of grace, the prop was thrown together and we had a show.
Amen.
What is it they say? Experience is the mother of improvisation.
I just made that up.
And the Wednesday and Thursday shows soared without any hiccups.
Four shows in four days. Two outdoors, one a large community amphitheater. Two indoors in large rooms, one brimming with over 200, the other far fewer.
During the first two, I had to respond to uncharted territory on the fly, from an uncomfortably unfamiliar setting to an uncharacteristically unusual and unexpected performer's prep gaffe. Serendipity and grace proved to be this clown's spiritual partner and stage hand at the most opportune of times.
Serendipity and grace seem to be related. "Serendipity" is defined as the gift of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for. And, “for grace to be grace, it must give us things we didn’t know we needed and take us places where we didn’t know we didn’t want to go.” (Kathleen Norris)
Monday's show was in an outdoor amphitheater backed right up against the town's busiest intersection. No sound system, either, just my boom box. Did I mention I don't speak during my 45-minute show? Needless to say, I was pretty anxious going into this show.
Serendipity landed in the front row -- a grandpa, big and well muscled, the perfect "strong man" volunteer, a grandma from San Francisco who happened to love live performance art, and their adorable granddaughter, who was eager to help out the clown-in-trouble. The show took off and never landed; the whole audience and I had a great time.
Tuesday's show almost flopped before it even started. A half hour before show time, as I was doing the final setup, I couldn't find my two newspaper gags. I'd accidently left them at home, 45 minutes away.
Panic. Then clarity. I'd try to construct one of the gags from materials there. The library staff and intern scrambled. Newspapers, pipe cleaners, glue stick, paper bag, and 10 minutes of grace, the prop was thrown together and we had a show.
Amen.
What is it they say? Experience is the mother of improvisation.
I just made that up.
And the Wednesday and Thursday shows soared without any hiccups.