Stupid. Honestly stupid. Here comes the Clown-Artist
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- 6 min read
“Clown training is very serious and difficult, to be free and do stupid things. Laughing has special energy. It is so great because you just free yourself. I wanted to laugh more and be less serious.”
By Sarita Chouhan in Mumbai
This story is a glimpse into the life and profession of two women clowns, primarily working as clinic/medical clowns, visiting hospitals, dressed up as clowns with their clown partners or volunteers. They enter the space of patients with chronic ailments, bringing in warmth, softness and relief to their pain, suffering and trauma.
And even if the distraction is momentary, the laughter and smiles shower many blessings on them. Living in different parts of the world, one in India, another in Germany, they have been pushing their boundaries, choosing a path that is radical, offbeat and gratifying.
I was drawn to writing about them being a facilitator of drawing and mindfulness, and my interest in healing modalities, seeing suffering in hospitals, I’m intrigued to understand how clowning relieves and works as a therapy.
What does a clown mask mean to the clowns and to others?
What space it holds and the challenges they meet.
Recently, I met Sheetal Aggarwal, cheerful and full of life, and came to know of her work as a clown. Sheetal did her MPhil in Social Anthropology from JNU, and on a self-help retreat, came across a medical clown. She was so captivated that she began researching about clowns, protocols of clowns, how they perform, their costumes and wished to experience it at least once.
“From childhood, I loved clowns. I was obsessed and believed in smiling and used it as a defence mechanism,” says Sheetal.
A group of volunteers and a hospital permission are the primary requisites to enter the hospital as a medical clown. Sheetal, one day, randomly posted on Facebook a call for volunteers. Unexpectedly, she received a positive response from 33 people. She wrote to the Delhi Health Ministry, asking for permission. On 9 July 2016, she finally got the permission to work at Chacha Nehru Bal Chikitsalya in Delhi, her first time as a clinic clown.
Out of thirty-three, only five turned up; one was an experienced street clown and a huge help. They performed for five hours, and in Sheetal’s words, “We came out, and we couldn’t stop smiling. That was the day when the word content made so much sense. That’s how it all started. Earlier, we used to go on alternate Saturdays, then every Saturday. On Sundays, we visited old-age homes. It was no looking back then.”
Lucie Betz is a friend from Germany, with whom I have collaborated earlier on a drawing and butoh project. Lucie studied visual arts at Ecole des Beaux, Paris, as a French artist, Butoh (a Japanese dance form) dancer, and founder of Theater Nuage Fou in Freiburg. She trained for eight years with Red Nose International, and is integrating the poetic depth of clowning into her work.
According to Lucie, “Clown training is very serious and difficult, to be free and do stupid things. Laughing has special energy. It is so great because you just free yourself. I wanted to laugh more and be less serious.”
Yet, it is not funny what we see and experience. Especially in hospitals where patients feel helpless, families are under pressure, there is so much fear, financial and mental pressure on both patients and families, and doctors and nurses work day and night. Entering that space needs sensitivity, compassion and courage.
For Lucie, clowning is a very spiritual act. “A clown is like a shaman and has the role of making visible the invisible. So if someone is feeling anxious or not good, a clown becomes their best friend. The clown understands the space and makes a deep connection.”
It is both artistic and personal, comic and touching. Over the years, Lucie has created her own character of ‘Lulu’ as a clown. Lulu is a girl from Paris who loves people. As she enters with innocence and wonder, Lucie says, “Sometimes you create that connection with a patient when an amazing story happens, it is then that little moments of magic happens.”
In these moments of deep connection, how do you detach yourself and not get affected by suffering or death?
Sheetal says, “I learned it the hard way. There was a kid, and he looked forward to my coming. I had shown him a magic trick. His father brought him a magic box, and he would learn magic tricks on his own and wait for me to show me what he had learned. He used to be so excited, as if he had found a purpose in his life. One day, I came to know he won’t survive. That day, I became very upset and questioned myself and the futility of it all if I couldn’t save a child’s life. My mother told me, “You gave him joy and magical moments before he left this world.”
“At the same time, working in hospitals changed my perspective, and I realised I have so much to be grateful for.” Sheetal adds, “Clowning as a therapy is healing for both the clown and the patient because there is so much that gets released -- we become less preoccupied with our thinking minds and immerse more in our bodies. We let go of all pretensions.”
Being in the space of pain and suffering doesn’t mean that the clown act will alleviate the pain. “If a patient says there is pain, we sometimes listen patiently; other times we play and divert their attention. Slowly the patient forgets the pain and begins to enjoy. A clown can touch different energies and shift your mood,” says Lucie.
There are some clown protocols like -- not to touch, not to pick up small children, avoid using balloons or anything that may spread infection from one to another, and the most important is to be a sensitive person and understand that it takes time to create a comfort space.
Says Sheetal, “We have to be very respectful of what the patient wants. We first observe and then get in, understanding where we shouldn’t jump in; giving this space and comfort is very crucial. If someone is clown-phobic, then we can’t be so egotist that we’ll remove this fear; rather, we have to immediately step out.”
“In today’s times, getting volunteers; furthermore, getting permission from private hospitals and the health ministry, is challenging. Mostly, they see it as entertainment and refuse to look at it as therapy. Our experience says, how well clowning works with dementia patients,” she says.
Lucie also feels clowns can be of immense help in dealing with old people who are suffering and lonely, and patients with dementia and mental disorders.
For Lucie, Butoh (the Japanese dance form) is more intense, more internal, whereas clowning is taking risks outside your creative domain. It works from inside-out. Lucie believes, “The clown has something more direct -- looking in the eyes. As a clown-artist, with or without a nose, it is more of working deep inside, that eventually comes out. It is not that you play stupid. You touch that unknown part in yourself that is completely honest, ‘honestly stupid’: and we love the clown because he/she is so honest.”
Playing clowns, both Lucie and Sheetal receive immense love as well. Lucie, apart from working in hospitals, is looking forward to working with kids from refugee camps and making them act on stage and create a performance. Sheetal is presently residing in Mumbai, working for the Tata hospital, government hospitals and is also a mental health wellness expert with schools and colleges.
Sarita Chouhan is Mumbai based multi-disciplinary artist who works in various mediums like drawing, painting, photography, videos and thread work. She is a drawing and mindfulness facilitator and conducts workshops with all age groups. She is presently visiting faculty at Balwant Sheth School of Architecture in Mumbai.
Details of images:
1.Lulu@rotanasen e.V photo
2. Medical Clowning at NIEGRIHMS, Shillong
3. Lulu smiling @ nuagefou
4. Schnepfle and Lulu visit lachverband e.V
5. Clowning at pediatric care at National Institute of Infectious Diseases: NIID, Srilanka
6. Clowning for well-being at an old age home in Coimbatore