Clowning around

Tom Monckton clowns around in the Octagon on a recent visit to the city. Photo by Gregor Richardson.
Tom Monckton clowns around in the Octagon on a recent visit to the city. Photo by Gregor Richardson.
Tom Monckton in full clown mode during a performance of The Pianist. Photos supplied.
Tom Monckton in full clown mode during a performance of The Pianist. Photos supplied.

If asked to describe a clown, most would mention the red nose, frizzy hair and big shoes, but that is not what you get with Thomas Monckton. Rebecca Fox finds out what being a clown in the 21st century means.

He lives in Paris, and travels the world doing what he loves. Life could not be much better for New Zealand clown Thomas Monckton.

Yes you read right, he is a clown (or physical performance artist, if you prefer).

From Patea in the North Island, Mr Monckton (30) works full time as a clown.

Until recently that meant living in a 11sq m Paris apartment with his girlfriend at a cost of about $NZ200 a week.

''It's really small, ridiculous. We were both making theatre props and at one stage we had to get down on all fours to get to the bathroom.

''It instantly becomes more romantic when you leave.''

On a more serious front, it was a good base to travel from, with a good airport offering cheap fares, he said.

Clowning appealed because of the physicality of it, he said.

''You don't speak, yet you can still be comic: it's very overstate. You can travel many different countries without worrying about the language barrier.''

Although, once when performing in Russia to a group of children, he took his shoes off and the children started chanting at him in Russian to put his shoes on.

''I had no idea what they were saying. There was 100 or so kids chanting. It was quite disconcerting.''

He admits his career choice has not been an easy one for him or others.

''People who grew up with me tend to have the attitude that it's an obvious choice. Other people think it's a phase I'll grow out of. I've just turned 30, so I don't think it's going anywhere.''

As a child he was exposed to clowns such as Marcel Marceau and got the mistaken belief that it was a viable career option, he said.

''Once I had committed to doing it I found it's quite difficult. But it's working out fine now.''

There had been a real shift between contemporary clowning and classic clowning in recent times, he said.

''Boundaries have been pushed in terms of clowning and it's become quite popular as a contemporary form. I mix the classic and contemporary but am moving in that [contemporary] direction more so.''

A pupil with an ''artistic'' bent at high school, he decided he wanted an outlet for his drive to express himself in some way. He enjoyed being highly physical, but was not interested in sport, so clowning brought his artistic and physical sides together.

''Since I've started performing with this level of eccentric expression my everyday life has tamed down a bit: it seems to be an outlet for that.''

He went on to circus school in Christchurch and worked around New Zealand before realising he wanted to do more training, but had exhausted the options here.

A physical theatre school in Paris was the best he could find.

His latest show, The Pianist, was developed in conjunction with Finnish company Circo Aereo, many members of which he met while at theatre school.

In employing a grand piano, it takes a classic clowning concept - it has been done by many clowns, including Charlie Chaplin - for the show, he said.

''Its a nice way of mixing the classic scenario using a contemporary approach.''

In fact his character has been described as the ''tuxedoed love child of Rik Mayall and Mr Bean''.

There was plenty of action in The Pianist, so much so he was dripping in sweat within five minutes of being on stage, and his piano rebels, causing chaos.

''There is not as much piano playing as you'd expect in a normal piano recital; there is a small bit of bullfighting.''

Technically it was quite a difficult show and one where something always seemed to go wrong.

''Knowing something will go wrong yet not knowing what it'll be is terrifying.''

In one case he was performing in front of a packed 400 seat theatre, when in the last 10 minutes it all went wrong (he cannot tell us what as that would spoil the surprise).

''I had to improvise for the last 10 minutes. It went great, everyone had a blast. I had a mild heart attack.

''If things go wrong it keeps it fresh.''

He has so far performed the show in Finland, Holland, the United Kingdom and New Zealand, and from Dunedin would go on perform in Canada, Denmark, Belgium and Holland.


See it

The Pianist, 7pm at the Regent Theatre on Dunedin, May 1. Tickets are available from TicketDirect.


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