“All the world’s a stage . . . “
William Shakespeare, As You Like It (Act II, Scene VII)

My clown doctor rounds as Dr. Fun E. Bone at Salem Hospital provide endless opportunities for play with the people I encounter – patients, medical and hospital staff, visitors, families, volunteers, even delivery service employees. These ‘windows of curiosity and play’ naturally occur in the rooms I visit in Pediatrics, the Emergency Department, and the Intensive Care Unit (ICU . . . “I see you, too!”). But, perhaps there are even more fertile grounds for humor and comedy and ‘heart-to-heart resuscitations’ during my walkabouts, when I’m moving from place to place amidst ever-changing human and physical environments and conditions.
I park in the hospital parking structure, step out of the car with clown gag-filled medicine bag in hand, and I’m ‘on.’ I have stairways, several buildings, numerous waiting rooms and lobbies, and escalators, skybridges, and elevators to navigate before I actually check in and start my clown doctor rounds, but from the moment I’m in public view, I’m in character as Dr. Fun E. Bone. (You may not know if someone or anyone is watching and engaged, but assume that someone always is.) Dr. Fun E. Bone walks funny, shuffling feet in short quick steps, leaning forward enough to always be off-balance, in a hurry but not quite knowing where he’s going or why. His calling cards are gentle humor and physical comedy that aim to support the healing process, relieve some of the stress of the hospital experience, and tickle funny bones to distract from and counteract feelings of fear, sadness, and helplessness.
Physical comedy is right at home in the hospital because it springs from our physicality, the things our bodies do (including our vulnerabilities and foibles), and our interactions with physical objects. By turning down the sound and intensity to hospital and bedside-appropriate levels, the clown (doctor) becomes a visual, non-verbal performing artist in constant give-and-take with patients, staff, other people, and properties.
Dr. Fun E. Bone’s walkabouts are running performances, using the obstacles, physical structures, and moments of interaction with people as gifts and prompts and opportunities for play. As partners in play, we improvise and create the script together along the way.
Here’s what can happen during a typical clown doctor walkabout:
Silly greetings, salutes, and waves to staff, patients, and other passers-by. Shoulder taps and hide-and-seek. Hugs. Exploding fist bumps. Shared rides on elevators, perhaps with a plea to share a breakfast or a seat on a wheelchair. Shared walks down hallways and across skybridges. Inquiries if someone had called for “a second opinion.” Or, “Do you wanna race?” Playfully loping cavorts down long sets of stairs, accentuated with a sudden stop on the last step to gather myself before hopping down with an overwrought sense of dramatics, relief, and self-satisfaction. Exaggerated hop-on and hop-off of escalators. Ridden backwards, at times. Well-placed and timed jumps to land on the trip pads for sliding doors to ‘magically’ open them. Impromptu smile inspections.
Not too surprisingly, I sometimes have to pause to wipe a few beads of sweat forming on my brow from those bits of physical comedy business during the walkabout over to PEDS, the Pediatric Department, where Dr. Fun E. Bone ‘begins’ his clown doctor rounds for the day. After a couple of deep, centering breaths, a brief prayer, greetings to the PEDS nursing staff, and a quick inventory of the patients and rooms who might like a visit from Dr. Fun E. Bone (including those in isolation for whom I clown from the doorway), we’re ready for clown doctor rounds. And ‘the stage’ then becomes intimate and bedside in each patient’s room, which is treated like that person’s special space and domain.
After PEDS, walkabouts take me to rounds in the Emergency Department and ICU before heading back to Volunteer Services to check out. (And that’s followed by an off-the-clock but very public walkabout all the way back to my car.) During those walkabouts, escalators, elevators, skybridges, waiting rooms, hallways, and lobbies provide ever-changing ‘stages’ for play and interaction and gentle humor and healing laughter.
Every walkabout is different in its own special way due to the ever-changing players – the patients, visitors, staff, and other volunteers who are ‘partners in play’ with the clown doctor – as well as the environments and conditions at the hospital.
For example, this happened the other day during one of my walkabouts:
A much-exaggerated ‘jump’ down the last step of a long staircase was rewarded by nice round of applause from the receptionists and volunteers at the front desk. But, after I waved gratefully to thank them and turned on my heels to head out the door, I was stopped in my tracks by a call for an “Encore!” Wait; what? What am I supposed to do right here for an encore? I can’t do the same bit again . . . think, think, think, come up with something, quick . . . no wait, don’t think, just do! (This entire internal monologue and coaching session lasted a split second.) Using that gift from an ‘audience’ member (and thanking him for throwing it out there by using it), I stopped in my tracks and ‘reversed the tape,’ rewinding my walk back to the bottom of the stairs, paused to gather myself, and hopped backwards up the first/last stair (luckily, my timing and spacing was right and I ‘stuck’ the landing!). Quite naively (and genuinely) surprised with myself, I then re-executed the ‘jump’ off the last stair (to more applause) and went about my way on the walkabout over to PEDS.
Much of the magic and spontaneity that happens during walkabouts can be chalked up to the grace of serendipity, but it can also be attributed to being aware, in the moment, and open to the gifts and windows of opportunity that people and the environment give and provide you.
Do you have walkabout opportunities in your clowning? What kinds of bits or gags or shtick or clown business can you use during those walkabouts? Have audiences or situations or physical environments given you any ‘gifts’ of something magical or unexpected that you were able to respond to spontaneously and incorporate into your performance?
Clown on, my red nose friends! Be open to the gifts that come your way during your next performance. And don’t forget to play.
I park in the hospital parking structure, step out of the car with clown gag-filled medicine bag in hand, and I’m ‘on.’ I have stairways, several buildings, numerous waiting rooms and lobbies, and escalators, skybridges, and elevators to navigate before I actually check in and start my clown doctor rounds, but from the moment I’m in public view, I’m in character as Dr. Fun E. Bone. (You may not know if someone or anyone is watching and engaged, but assume that someone always is.) Dr. Fun E. Bone walks funny, shuffling feet in short quick steps, leaning forward enough to always be off-balance, in a hurry but not quite knowing where he’s going or why. His calling cards are gentle humor and physical comedy that aim to support the healing process, relieve some of the stress of the hospital experience, and tickle funny bones to distract from and counteract feelings of fear, sadness, and helplessness.
Physical comedy is right at home in the hospital because it springs from our physicality, the things our bodies do (including our vulnerabilities and foibles), and our interactions with physical objects. By turning down the sound and intensity to hospital and bedside-appropriate levels, the clown (doctor) becomes a visual, non-verbal performing artist in constant give-and-take with patients, staff, other people, and properties.
Dr. Fun E. Bone’s walkabouts are running performances, using the obstacles, physical structures, and moments of interaction with people as gifts and prompts and opportunities for play. As partners in play, we improvise and create the script together along the way.
Here’s what can happen during a typical clown doctor walkabout:
Silly greetings, salutes, and waves to staff, patients, and other passers-by. Shoulder taps and hide-and-seek. Hugs. Exploding fist bumps. Shared rides on elevators, perhaps with a plea to share a breakfast or a seat on a wheelchair. Shared walks down hallways and across skybridges. Inquiries if someone had called for “a second opinion.” Or, “Do you wanna race?” Playfully loping cavorts down long sets of stairs, accentuated with a sudden stop on the last step to gather myself before hopping down with an overwrought sense of dramatics, relief, and self-satisfaction. Exaggerated hop-on and hop-off of escalators. Ridden backwards, at times. Well-placed and timed jumps to land on the trip pads for sliding doors to ‘magically’ open them. Impromptu smile inspections.
Not too surprisingly, I sometimes have to pause to wipe a few beads of sweat forming on my brow from those bits of physical comedy business during the walkabout over to PEDS, the Pediatric Department, where Dr. Fun E. Bone ‘begins’ his clown doctor rounds for the day. After a couple of deep, centering breaths, a brief prayer, greetings to the PEDS nursing staff, and a quick inventory of the patients and rooms who might like a visit from Dr. Fun E. Bone (including those in isolation for whom I clown from the doorway), we’re ready for clown doctor rounds. And ‘the stage’ then becomes intimate and bedside in each patient’s room, which is treated like that person’s special space and domain.
After PEDS, walkabouts take me to rounds in the Emergency Department and ICU before heading back to Volunteer Services to check out. (And that’s followed by an off-the-clock but very public walkabout all the way back to my car.) During those walkabouts, escalators, elevators, skybridges, waiting rooms, hallways, and lobbies provide ever-changing ‘stages’ for play and interaction and gentle humor and healing laughter.
Every walkabout is different in its own special way due to the ever-changing players – the patients, visitors, staff, and other volunteers who are ‘partners in play’ with the clown doctor – as well as the environments and conditions at the hospital.
For example, this happened the other day during one of my walkabouts:
A much-exaggerated ‘jump’ down the last step of a long staircase was rewarded by nice round of applause from the receptionists and volunteers at the front desk. But, after I waved gratefully to thank them and turned on my heels to head out the door, I was stopped in my tracks by a call for an “Encore!” Wait; what? What am I supposed to do right here for an encore? I can’t do the same bit again . . . think, think, think, come up with something, quick . . . no wait, don’t think, just do! (This entire internal monologue and coaching session lasted a split second.) Using that gift from an ‘audience’ member (and thanking him for throwing it out there by using it), I stopped in my tracks and ‘reversed the tape,’ rewinding my walk back to the bottom of the stairs, paused to gather myself, and hopped backwards up the first/last stair (luckily, my timing and spacing was right and I ‘stuck’ the landing!). Quite naively (and genuinely) surprised with myself, I then re-executed the ‘jump’ off the last stair (to more applause) and went about my way on the walkabout over to PEDS.
Much of the magic and spontaneity that happens during walkabouts can be chalked up to the grace of serendipity, but it can also be attributed to being aware, in the moment, and open to the gifts and windows of opportunity that people and the environment give and provide you.
Do you have walkabout opportunities in your clowning? What kinds of bits or gags or shtick or clown business can you use during those walkabouts? Have audiences or situations or physical environments given you any ‘gifts’ of something magical or unexpected that you were able to respond to spontaneously and incorporate into your performance?
Clown on, my red nose friends! Be open to the gifts that come your way during your next performance. And don’t forget to play.