A lovepoem made with circus, theatre and dark clowning

Our own Nadia Jade does not like to rest on her laurels, and is premiering a new work at Anywhere. She is a circus artist, sideshow performer, poet, producer and many more things besides. This new work draws on at least eight of her various skillsets. Her co-creators are Phoebe Manning and Maddy Grant.

Tell us about the show in 100 words or less

You are in a holding place. A place between. A place… behind. It’s dark and vaguely ominous. Three nondescript figures are kicking about, sharing a drink and ragging on each other.

Every so often, one slips off, to do… A Job. It’s an Important Job. A Most Necessary Job. In fact, it might be the Most Important Job in this World… or the next.

Sometimes I Say Your Name Out Loud is a kind of lovepoem made with circus, theatre and dark clowning. It draws on the performers personal experiences of love and grief and process and resilience, as well as Greek mythology, contemporary literature and song, theatre games and roleplay.

 Anywhere Festival takes place anywhere but a theatre. Tell us about your venue. What is it about your space that adds to your audience experience?

We are all active members of the Vulcana Circus community, who have an amazing new circus arts hub in Morningside with such a great vibe. It’s got a wonderful atmosphere, as well as all the circus rigging that could be required, so really it was a no brainer! Circus spaces are places of endless creative possibility, and it’s such a blessing to create in a space with so many active artists surrounding us. We’re very lucky, we have had a lot of support. 

They have only been in their new venue a little over a year, and what with covid last year we are the first show to be presented there as part of their regular artist residency programs, so now’s your chance to check it out!

What is your creative process like?

So. The making of this show is bounded in true stories. And they are not easy stories.

Our show started with a shared experience of loss. Each of us, existing as we do on the nexus of circus and punk and artists and hospitality, have experienced the loss of an inordinate number of friends to death by misadventure… Suicide, accident, violence. Destructive losses. For a lucky country we have a lot of desperate people, no?

And after a particularly painful loss five years ago, I found myself struggling to process. As a white middle-class person with no particular religious affiliation, there is a distinct lack of rituals that I can draw upon for passing and honouring the dead. And these hardcore deaths were not moving on in my head, in my body, they stayed too long weighing me down. And for myself, the great grief that rose in me had to be shifted, had to be made useful. Had to be changed.

And artists being what artists are, I started a small tiny dream, and I shared this idea here and there with friends, and over time found that two friends in particular resonated with this loss and this hunger and this idea for a show, and we talked about rituals and stories and novels and myths, like the Ferryman who carries the souls of the dead over the river Styx. And the Death in the Terry Pratchett novels, who transforms to appear to a dying person as whatever they believe in. And how to make art that both honours and is not total sadsack. And we talked about love and how to love in the face of violence and inevitable loss. We played with archetypes, the three clowns who run circles around each other, a triumphant union of singular individuals. Much talking, much laughing, much lumps in the throat. Much sharing, much holding space. 

So yes, we decided to make a show about suicide. But not a punch in the face show, although they tooare useful and have their place in the arts lexicon. But it was not our way. And not a show about grief, because I want to sail away from that. Ultimately in the end, I think what we have made is show about friendship, and love, and holding on to love, and how that love might be carried safely for a long time to come, because nobody wants to put down the love, just the grief, just the sadness.

And yes, I think there’s a good chance that the end result is actually silly, and funny, and ludicrous, and heart-warming. You will have to tell me!

So yes, I will tell you that it started at suicide, but this is not a show about suicide. It started with loss, but this is not a show about loss. It could be a show about death. It might be a show about honour. It might be a show about me, but maybe it is a show about you. It is definitely a show about friendship and wonder and learning and growing and going alone and going together. I don’t think it is a sad show, although my eyes well up as I write. I think it might be a funny show, cause gaia knows we need a laugh. It may just possibly be poignant and silly and delicious. I 100% guarantee it will be weird.

Tell us your origin story. How did your collaboration start?

Maddy and Phoebe and I are all friends who have worked together in various capacities over many years, each of us active participants in the beautiful Australian circus community. We have shared loves of artists and shows that we like, and as mentioned before, have a shared experience of many losses too. Circus family is a beautiful family, we learn how to literally support each other with our muscles, but also with our energies too.

Who is your perfect audience member? Who is going to LOVE this event?

If you love dark clowning, random acts of senseless kindness, or mysterious and strange works of art that enliven the imagination and bravely go wherever they need to go, you will love this.

Is there anything else we simply MUST know about the show?

This show was born in a sad place, but lives in a warm happy place. Do not be afraid of the sadness! Come, run towards us with it, together.

Sometimes I Say Your Name Out Loud takes place as part of Anywhere Festival on the 7, 8 & 9 May 2021 at Vulcana Circus, Morningside.