Playing the fool all in a day's work

By REBECCA BARRY

There aren't many professions that require the contents of your childhood dress-up box. For Amy Gordon, half of Canadian slapstick duo Cirkus Inferno, the pink tutu and paper wings she wore as a kid inspire her everyday "office" attire.

She and Jonah Logan are two bumbling clowns who show up to see the circus, only to find it has been cancelled. Deciding to make their own fun, they get into trouble with everything from exploding popcorn to jet-powered roller skates. It's chaotic, messy, full of fart jokes and the kind of eye-watering stunts that justify Logan's title as "the world's most dangerous clown".

"I just happen to be naturally clumsy which is just as dangerous," laughs Gordon. "Probably more so because Jonah's more safety conscious than I am."

Logan is a trained pyrotechnician and technical designer who, with musician Paul Weir, founded the show's umbrella business, the Daredevil Opera Company, six years ago. Their pyro-fuelled gimmicks and live sound effects have contributed to a number of shows throughout the world, including the acclaimed Cirque du Soleil.

Moving from design to clowning was a necessity because no one else could figure out how to use his props. Gordon, on the other hand, had always wanted to be a performer. She grew up acting, dancing and singing and later studied theatre and clown with the renowned Phillipe Gaulier. You wouldn't know it but at school she was shy and an outsider, attributes she says are as important as the extroverted, loopy characteristics people associate with clowns.

"The tradition of clowns stems back to ancient times, when they almost played a role sort of like a priest, someone who beckons us to laugh at ourselves and life and witness humanity in that really simple way of a simple-minded child," she says.

"I think you have to be aware of the craziness of life. I guess it did sort of feel like a calling. Like, oh, jeez, I'm a clown. I mean, I would never be an accountant."

Gordon and Logan met at a circus in New York and have since toured Cirkus Inferno, which is "very much like a live cartoon", for two-and-a-half years.

Some stunts look as though the clowns would need more than a Panadol post-show.

"Nothing hurts for very long, especially not in front of an audience," she says. "Mostly it's just bruises and a few minor burns, nothing horrible. Jonah split his shoulder open in a pogo stick act for Cirque du Soleil so he's learned how to do that with a little bit more care."

As for down time, not all clowns go home depressed, she quips. While in Australia, for instance, Gordon has been catching waves at Byron Bay. Other days she'll put her feet up and play the ukelele. Whether or not you could pick she is a clown when she's walking down the street "depends on how good your clown-dometer is. I have a pretty good one. I can tell when people are clowns whether they know it or not.

"People are very surprised that I'm a clown. The thing I get most is 'Oh, I've never met a clown! You're a real clown?' I think some people have the attitude that clowns don't really exist. Or that we all wear big rainbow wigs and red noses. We're not circus clowns in that way. We're clowns more in the tradition of silent movie clowns or Vaudeville. It's much more inspired by Buster Keaton than it is by Bozo."

Just a warning: these clowns have water pistols. And they're not afraid to use 'em.

Performance

* What: Cirkus Inferno

* Where & when: Civic Theatre, tonight until Saturday, 7.30pm