Clowns with Gowns, Ferdinand the Magnificent, Morro and Jasp Do Puberty, Manchego: The Birth of Cheese

I will not describe the best bits or give away surprises to be found in the performances. That I leave to the pleasure of your live experience.

Clowns with Gowns (Adriana Chavez and Heidi Rider) are a pair of charmingly goofy gals. Their characters are distinct, well matched, and extremely likeable.  The act focuses on the relationship rather than a story.  The presentation flowed seamlessly from one beat to another, revealing the ups and downs of their companionship.  As I already stated in an earlier post, their costumes, hair and makeup are a visual delight.  Much is communicated in this silent act, including an illuminating glimpse into the creation of Carmen Francesca Maria Frida Ophelia De La Rosa’s costume. Gertrude’s also had very silly components such as an oven mitt.  Their entrances were a fabulous surprise; their eccentric dancing was totally entertaining; their melodramatic death scenes were a laugh riot; as was the entire show.

Ferdinand the Magnificent (Nick Trotter) sounds like a magician’s name. He is far from magical, though he does execute feats of originality. At first his appearance is off-putting and might likely scare off those folks who are unnerved by clowns. As time went on his character grew on me thanks to his joyful stupidity.  His clown cares whether or not the audience liked him and that is another redeeming quality.  He made music and danced with unexpected objects for instruments. Aside from his singing, he was silent, using the cowbell on his diaper to express himself.  There is a place for these strange sorts of clowns on stage, as they mirror the elements in our culture that make us squirm, executed playfully.

Morro (Heather Marie Annis) and Jasp (Amy Lee) Do Puberty is a well-conceived and well-executed look at puberty through the eyes of sisters with the havoc-wreaking intensity of hormone-driven teens. The story includes all the trappings of pubescent girls, such as sanitary napkins, tampons (bloodied and not), make-up, magazines, diaries, phonecalls from boys, fantasizing about love, teen idols, pondering sex and the fear and elation at the onset of menstruation. There was a time when such a topic was not seen in the world of clowning. It is uplifting to observe the gusto with which these two clowns bring it to our attention in such an entertaining fashion.

Manchego: The Birth of Cheese (Ambrose Martos) is just that, a cheesy lounge act. I could easily picture the act on a cruise ship. The show combines many elements: a smarmy entertainer engaging the audience, clown and skill acts, puppetry, a film sequence, and a narrative shift into flashback. A genuinely funny performer, Ambrose possessed at times an extraordinary expression of pure openness in his eyes that drew me in wholeheartedly, melting my heart.