Clowning is a profession in decadence and destined to extinguish. The concept has changed, especially as a result of movies and TV that have turned the clown into something terrifying. Being a clown today is an almost heroic act to which few want to submit.
Mattie Faint is a 69-year-old retired clown based in London. Since his retirement, he is involved into the conservation of the museum items of the ‘Clowns International’ association, the oldest clown group in the UK, and to the organization of the ‘Grimaldi Service’, a yearly mass celebrated in Haggerston in honour of the most famous clown in the Anglo-Saxon country since the 19th century. I met Mattie there.
He worked as a clown for over fifty years, including twenty-six years in a London pub and nineteen years in hospitals, performing mainly to cheer up the lives of children undergoing cancer treatment.
Mattie owns a studio where he keeps the museum's collection. There are items more than two hundred years old. When the pandemic hit, the association couldn’t raise enough money to continue paying the rent for the museum and Mattie carried everything to his studio.
He talks to me while he turns from an anonymous man to a classically styled clown, with his extremely colorful costume, absurdly large shoes and a red fake nose. Thanks to the transformation, the character's own vitality comes alive, allowing him to shed any hint of seriousness and start laughing with overwhelming effortlessness.
He loves performing.
After the session, he takes off his make-up and costume. His expression seems to lose some of its life. Mattie would still wear the suit if his 69 years allowed him to do so.
He misses performing.
The opposite is Whimmie Walker. He is sixty-four and he works on stage every day. When performing it looks like he was twenty-five.
Today he performs in Zippo’s Circus and his character is the main one of the show. When I introduce myself, he immediately invites me to come into his caravan.
He has performed halfway around the world, and does this for love for the art. He only allows me taking a couple of pictures in the caravan, but during the three performances of the day at Zippos I’m free to shoot. It's always the same show but equally surprising. Walker juggles rackets, suitcases and tennis balls. He plays the trumpet. He simulates a boxing match with Paulo, the other star of the circus. Walker directs the two-hour show. Three times a day. Exhausting.
His make-up is simpler and his clothes less extravagant than Mattie’s, but his performance is superb. The audience enjoys and laughs. He is a star.
We agree to work more on the real person and less on the character.
That's what this is all about, looking for the border between the man and the character. In the case of both clowns the borderline is often very blurred, but that boundary is sure to bring a smile and more than one laugh.