"He's a Woozle..."
TERRY JONES is a Welsh comedian, screenwriter, actor, film director, children's author, popular historian, political commentator and TV documentary host. A founding member of Monty Python, Mr. Jones directed two other Monty Python films, Life of Brian and The Meaning of Life. Outside of the Python group, Mr. Jones also directed Erik the Viking (1989) and The Wind in the Willows (1996), released in the U.S. as Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride in addition to other projects. Mr. Jones has written books and presented television documentaries on medieval and ancient history and the history of numeral systems including Terry Jones’ Medieval Lives for which he received an Emmy nomination in 2004. In 2008, Jones also wrote and directed an original opera entitled Evil Machines which was premiered by Teatro São Luiz in Lisbon, Portugal.
Me with one of the funniest people in history, Mr. Terry Jones. The card I am holding up (and unfortunately washed out by the stage lights) reads "My Pee Smells Like Ham". If you have to ask, you've never been to a Motionfest or Minifest.
My favorite circus memory, after meeting my wife, Nini, happened in Chicago in October, 1976 at the old iron and glass arena near the old stockyards.
We'd played there some weeks already - the weather usually cloudy, chilly, and damp.
It was a Saturday morning show - too early in the morning that day. I wasn't feeling well - tired, lonesome, a little sad... just feeling down.
I dry shaved that morning, and my skin reminded me of its objection to that as I applied my clown makeup. I had a bit of a headache from trying to rinse out the blues the night before. Even pie car coffee couldn't wash the bad taste out of my mouth. Brother, I was feeling sorry for myself!
I was doing meet and greet on the track floor as our guests came filing in along the rope fence by the track as they made their way to their seats.
I was doing my best to put my heart into it, but my heart just wasn't cooperating.
Then I heard a small, clear little voice calling out, "Clown! Clown!", with the rise and fall tone of one trying to get my attention.
I turned to my left, and saw running down the track toward me a little cherub of a girl no more than five years old - running with just a remnant of 'toddle' in her gait. She looked like a little doll - little chubby legs with white ankle socks and black patent shoes, frilly dress, navy coat that gathered at the waist, a beaming round face with the biggest of toothy smiles and such bright eyes and big ringlets of auburn curly hair.
Following at a trot several paces behind her was her mother, a well dressed, handsome, willowy woman with a flustered and embarrassed look on her face.
As the little girl got close, she raised up both her arms signaling she wanted me to catch her and pick her up in my arms - which I did without even thinking about it.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and squeeeeeezed with a big hug, and then leaned back with her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes and said, "I love you, clown!".
I was stunned and I could just get out the words,
"I love you, too, sweetheart."
She kissed my cheek and then got down - and she skipped stepped over to her mother and took her hand, walking away to find their seats.
As she went with her mother, I saw her looking up at her with a thoroughly happy expression, and telling her, "I talked with the clown, mama! I talked with the clown!"
Up the bleacher stairs they went, and I just stood there, arms at my sides, just watching them until I couldn't see them any more.
I heard a collective and soft, "Awwwwwwwwww....." from my right, from the folks I'd just been greeting when the little angel jumped into my arms and into my heart. They all had eyes as moist as mine.
That little girl, that little angel would be in her late thirties by now.
Wherever she is, I just want her to know that on that morning, with her expression of pure affection, joy, and a child's simple love, she reminded me that I am loved and changed my outlook for good.
God indeed sent me an angel.
Moz'ART
We exist despite the sober formality of great concert halls, despite the boredom of classical musicians' life, despite fanatic lovers of classical music, despite fans of rock, rap or pop who are afraid of classical music. We treat our Muse with a humorous irony and we're sure, she will have nothing against it!"
In brightest day, in blackest night,
No evil shall escape my sight
Let those who worship evil's might,
Beware my power... James Cashin's light!
It's about pratfalls and popping out of steam trunks, about tumbling repeatedly down a flight of 15 stairs, and juggling fiberglass bowling pins that rip your skin, about balancing hats on your nose or abruptly flipping yourself backward. And even with all that tomfoolery, Humor Abuse emerges as the most poignant piece I've seen in some time.
Pisoni - 32, tall and kinetic, with movie-set good looks and a smile that doesn't flash as much as radiate - has won every kind of Off-Broadway award for Humor Abuse, which he developed with director Erica Schmidt. It played last season at the Manhattan Theatre Club and opened the Philadelphia Theatre Company season Wednesday night.
The one-act is the true story of Pisoni's life as a circus child with circus parents, the founders in 1975 of San Francisco's Pickle Family Circus. An original clown of that troupe - credited with renewing an American circus tradition and influencing Cirque du Soliel - was Bill Irwin, now a treasured theater artist (twice on Philadelphia Theatre Company's stage), and also Pisoni's godfather.
For 25 years until he stopped performing, Pisoni's father, Larry, remained a silent clown whose self-imposed demands in the service of humor broke bones all over his body. As his son tells it, the elder Pisoni nearly killed himself for laughs.
That's one form of the humor abuse referred to in the show's title. The other is more ironic, and a little unsettling. From Pisoni's infancy, his father saw him as a circus performer. The boy made his debut when he was 2 years old. A heart-tugging moment comes early in the show when Pisoni strikes a performance pose; the exact same image of a preschool Pisoni appears on a tattered white sheet that serves as a stage-rear curtain, behind him.
And so it went for little Lorenzo. At age 6, he signed an actual contract to become his dad's partner. By age 11, he was touring the country and Japan with his own act, no parent in sight. Ever wonder what it's like to be "the other" - someone who grew into a world completely different from yours? This show answers the question by presenting the experiences of one of "the others."
Humor Abuse is bittersweet - but never bitter to the point of complaint or sweet to the point of cloying. You could call it Lorenzo Pisoni's tribute to his dad - one that looks deep to reveal an almost shocking intensity about laughter.
"I can't do it!" little Lorenzo cries after trying and failing to learn a stunt. "You can't do it . . . yet," his father replies.
Well, he can do it now - all of it. The routines that pepper the show are deft; is tripping over his feet merely an alternative way for Pisoni to walk? (It apparently was for his dad.)
Pisoni is funny, fluid, and fully in the moment when he's clowning. But the real impact of Humor Abuse comes when he returns, repeatedly, to play himself, the boy who increasingly wants the opposite of what other kids want - to run away from the circus.
He finally does that, landing in high school, then graduating from college, and embracing a broader kind of performance: He was memorable in last season's Broadway revival of Equus and is a current regular on TV's All My Children. The grass may seem greener outside the circus ring, but Pisoni is his father's son. His heart is open in Humor Abuse, and you can almost hear the ringmaster calling to its beat.
HUMOR ABUSE
starring Lorenzo Pisoni
created by Lorenzo Pisoni & Erica Schmidt
directed by Erica Schmidt
September 25 - October 25, 2009
Please click here for ticket information
In 1957 comedian Red Skelton was on top of the world. His weekly comedy show on CBS was doing well. He had curtailed the drinking which had almost derailed his career. Not too shabby for a man who had started out as a circus and rodeo clown and who was now often called the clown prince of American comedy. He and his wife Georgia had two beautiful kids: Richard and Valentina Maria. Then the worst thing in the world for any parent entered into the lives of Red and Georgia Skelton: Richard was diagnosed with leukemia. Unlike today, a diagnosis of leukemia in a child in 1957 was tantamount to saying that Richard was going to die soon. Red immediately took a leave of absence from his show. CBS was very understanding and a series of guest hosts, including a very young Johnny Carson, filled in for Skelton during the 1957-1958 season.
“The doctor was as gentle as he could be when he told me there was a good chance I had something that would mean amputating my leg. I remember crying for hours that night. The night before surgery I was very scared. My mother was at home with three small children and I had a difficult time falling asleep. When I finally gave in and allowed sleep to take over, it wasn’t for long. I awoke to find my friend Richard’s father asleep in the chair next to my bed. He woke up soon after I did, and in a very gentle voice kept telling me it was going to be ok. I just had to believe. There he stayed for most of the night. I would sleep and waken, and he would sometimes be asleep, other times he’d smile and comfort me.
Surgery went well, and my leg wasn’t amputated, but I was in and out of surgeries, casts, and the hospital for the next two years. Richard passed away from leukemia the second year, but has lived on in my heart and memory. His father became my hero as I watched him on television, then and in later years. For during the time I knew Mr. Skelton and his son Richard, I only saw their courage, compassion, and tender hearts. I saw a man who was “in character” to make the children laugh and forget their illnesses, but I also saw a very gentle man who was not “in character”, as he sat by the bed of a fatherless 11 year old. Setting aside his own fears, or sadness, Red Skelton, the clown who entertained millions during the early days of television, made sure I was able to face a scary situation with the hope it was going to be ok.”
The complete article, which focuses on Richard's faith and his pilgrimage, is available here.