Clowns and Jugglers and Mimes, Oh My!
A recent study by the University of Sheffield, into appropriate decor
for children's hospital wards, concluded what I could have told them
long ago: clowns are scary. After a personal life-long terror of those
whitened faces, drawn-on smiles and enormous flapping feet, I can vouch
for it. And I'm not alone. Coulrophobia, to give clown-fear its proper
title, is
one of the most common phobias on the planet. Three years ago, hundreds
of residents of Sarasota, Florida, a town with a proud circus heritage,
successfully campaigned to prevent the erection of 70 giant clown
statues around their hometown on the grounds that they were terrified at
the prospect.
Theories abound about just why these red-nosed entertainers are so
frightening. I, for one, don't recall being traumatised by someone
dressed as a clown, and I'm not convinced that it stems from not being
able to gauge a clown's real feelings behind the makeup. They're just
plain creepy. I do know that I was already a phobic when my parents took
me on my
first circus visit. And I recall vividly the disappointed and bewildered
look on my father's face when his little girl burst into tears at her
first sight of his big-top favourites.
You'd think the advancing years would have cured me. If anything I've
got worse. I've tried to find comfort in the experiences of others and
logged on to scores of anti-clown websites. On ihateclowns.com there is
even a forum on which coulrophobics can blog about their own
experiences; another website offers clothing and accessories with
anti-clown slogans. But none of this has cured me.
Any claims I might have to a genuine phobia, however, are pooh-poohed by
friends, who claim that I'm just being miserable. You see, I'm also one
of those people that squirms at the mere mention of "street
entertainers". I know what you're thinking, but let me try to convince
you otherwise.
Take mime artists - and I wish someone would. What could be more
irritating? All that "help me, I'm stuck in a box" play-acting just
winds me up. I mean, just how many times can you watch someone struggle
with an invisible balloon?
It baffles me that someone would want to
spend all day doing Marcel
Marceau impressions when they could be doing anything else. But then
again, the website worst-jobs.com regards mime artistry as "ideal for
theatre artists who can't sing, or act, or remember lines". There
exists, believe it or not, an I Hate Mimes Club. And there have
been some pretty high-profile mime haters too. A character in a Terry
Pratchett book outlawed miming and punished exponents by forcing them to
climb an invisible ladder out of a scorpion pit while reading a sign
saying: 'Learn the words'. I don't even think they're all that popular.
Be honest, when you see
mimes in the street, how many people are standing there watching?
It's the same with jugglers. Is there actually a point to juggling? The
World Juggling Federation is an organisation dedicated to "promoting the
sport of juggling to a worldwide audience". Juggling as a sport? I'm
not even convinced it's an entertainment. How hard can it be? The average 9-year-old girl can do it. Anyone can
learn to juggle, surely? OK, not me, obviously, because I have
absolutely no co-ordination, but it would seem to be within the reach of
those with even basic motor skills. There are other forms of silly street performers, too. Stilt-walkers,
for example. As a child I could walk on stilts, quite competently as it
happens, but they don't impress me either.
Acrobats are amazing, of course, and trapeze artists and tightrope
walkers too. Fire-eaters are also impressive, but, on the other hand,
once you've
seen one .... And just how do you find out you can do that without
setting yourself alight?
I don't think it's so much what these street artists do that bothers me,
it's that they choose to do it at all. There you are, minding your own
business, when suddenly, out of nowhere,
appears a smart-alec on a unicycle, ambushing you into his performance,
making you part of his act whether you want to be or not. Then there
are the street musicians. Not the gypsy violinists, flutists
and classical guitarists, who can all add wonderful ambiance to a street
scene. I'm talking about the ones with the didgeridoos. The ones who
leave you wishing they didgerididn’t.