Blog Assignment #4 – Writing on a Photo

(sorry, i was not able to copy the picture, but here's a link, http://museum.icp.org/museum/exhibitions/kelty/kelty_press.htm, its the third one down, the one with the blue tint)

the first thing i noticed about the photo was the blue tint or lens used to take the picture. When i saw what the photo was of, or who was in the picture, i thought this was perfect. The photo is a group picture of the clowns from the ringling bros. and barnum and bailey circus.
I was never too into the circus. I wasn't afraid of clowns or anything of that matter, and when i would go to madison square garden with my father, i never thought it was boring. But i never got into it. My father would ask me if i wanted to go to the circus, i would simply respond with a nod or shoulder shrug, "why not?" But lately circus life has fascinated me, particularly because of my interest in vaudeville, which can be seen as the successor of the original circus.
Clowns have also fascinated me, don't really know why, i guess i see them as the original entertainers, the guys that paved the way for the art of comedy.
Upon seeing that the photo was that of a group of circus clowns, with the tint of purple blue, i immediately thought of "Tears of a Clown," the song by smokey and the miracles. I began then to play the song in my head, lyrics like:

Now if there's a smile on my face

It's only there trying to fool the public;
But don't let my glad expression
Give you the wrong impression
Really I'm sad, oh I'm sadder than sad
You're gone and I'm hurtin' so bad
Like a clown I pretend to be glad
Now there's some sad things known to man
But ain't too much sadder than
The tears of a clown, when there's no one around

really seem to be true and evident in the photo itself.
Although appearing to be happy, and laughing their painted heads off, if you look closely most of the clowns are either not smiling, down right frowning or looking angry, or, at the least, give a little grin or smirk to the camera. I have heard that some clowns are depressed, drunks or social outcasts. Others might be really into their job and the happiness transcends their situation or their state. They might have that joy of laughter that lets them overcome personal hardships, so they might actually me happy; but not these clowns.
They sport the most common outfit, baggy one piece suits that look like they were fitted on baby circus elephants, with huge polka dots scattered around the suit, truffles around their necks, remind me of a noose, exaggerated large shoes, probably the tramp's source for his look, some wear little beanies, other coned hats that look more like bugles or old loud speakers; a minstrel performer stands behind the three "midgets," he's got the stereotypical "coon" look down: the small hat, the hideous flannel suit with a 3/4 length jacket, i wonder if he means to do this - is he a racist shit or some down and out cat who knew he could make money off a poisonous type of entertainment, the three dwarf men are also painted up, they look like kiddy clowns - they hold and blow bugles or trumpets but look like mad bellhops, a figure who i think might own or run the circus operation stands in the front row looking like charlie's tramp personae, one circus worker in the front row to the left looks like some post black tuesday wandering hobo laborer, my favorite clown outfit is worn by the big clown in the first row at the end on the right side, it has designs of crescent moons filled with five pointed stars, but i like the make up of the one to his left.
My favorite clown though is the one at the end of the second row on the right, of all the clowns he is the one that popped at me, due to his facial expression. Although painted up with a huge clownish smile, he looks totally pissed off. Smokey's song plays in my head, il pagliacci comes to mind, the vesti la guibba seers through the mind's ear, i see him cranky and grumpy, grunting and hissing at those who want a word with him, but, he is the guy to see to show you the ropes when you just join the circus, he's been here the longest; he's billed as "the world's happiest clown", he'll never get you down, fuck patch addams, this clown cat cures cancer with the medicine of laughter. The children stare in gleeful wonder as they wonder about his mastery of circus magic tricks, he hands them flowers that spurt water in to their faces and handkerchiefs that go on for miles and pulls playing cards of jokers from behind their ears and he leads you on with his silence and ear to ear smile; when the show is over, he walks back to the changing room, head hung off his shoulders, treads over to his chair facing a mirror, he stares at his reflection, the world's happiest clown, and as a single tear falls from his painted face, he cracks the seal on a bottle of irish whiskey and thanks God he's part of the circus.