Moss Meunier
Seven months after first seeing Yoz at the Prague Fringe with “No Babies in the Sauna”, we meet just weeks before the “swan song” of the run at the Adelaide Fringe. On opposite sides of the world, Yoz with their first coffee of the morning and me ready for bed in my fleecy winter pyjamas, we started catching up on their journey since Prague.
You can catch Yozi: No Babies in the Sauna at The Lark at Gluttony – Rymill Park from the 4th-9th of March at 22:00 (60 mins). Tickets are available through the Adelaide Fringe website.
Moss: We last saw you at the Prague Fringe. How has the show evolved since then?
Yoz: I actually took a part of what happened in the show in Prague through to Edinburgh. So it kind of evolved off the back of Prague. I play this silly character called Mr. Disco who tries to encourage the audience to, like, to rouse and rise. It’s a comment on those really patronizing MC hype people that are like, ‘Everyone let’s cheer!'”
And on the first night in Prague, everyone got up and followed me and danced. And that had really never happened before. So on the fly, I was like, all right, we’re going to do a little – like a disco cha-cha out of this performance space around the bar and back in through the other way. And when I was coming back in, I realized that every single person in the room was now behind me because I walked into an empty space, which was, prior, full.
So I took that idea and that energy to Edinburgh, and just about every night I had people getting up and following me out of the room. What evolved was this really strange I guess, fifth wall break? Like, if the fourth wall is between the audience, the performer and the audience, is the fifth wall between the audience and the public?
Moss: You were awarded the Brian’s Life Comedy award in Prague, how did you feel about that?
Yoz: I won’t be the first to say it’s about fucking time that I’m recognized in this way!
I was shocked. I went through the seven stages of grief, but for positive news – which is still disbelief, bargaining, anger. And finally, I am where I am now. I am in acceptance.
At this point, it’s gotta be some sort of epitaph.
Moss: In your show, you state that a clown must be birthed – what stage do you think you’re at in your clownfancy?
Yoz: I’m in that weird, awkward phase where the doctor’s sort of holding me, but the umbilical cord hasn’t been cut. And so I’m already being judged, but I’m not yet disconnected from she that bore me. Like, someone needs to step in and cut that umbilical cord. And at this point, I feel like it’s got to be me. So in answer to your question, I’m seconds away from clawing out of the doctor’s hands, down the tube coming out of my stomach, and gnawing with my non-existent teeth at it until it disintegrates like tissue paper.
Moss: After Prague you went to the Gaulier school in Étampes, what have you taken from that experience?
Yoz: The entire little town of Étampes is just like a gorgeous nurturing nest, where you as an egg get to incubate with other eggs.
It was just such a nurturing experience, being surrounded by so many like-minded people who were excited and were also nervous on that first day. I remember the first, like, half hour, we’re all sitting around introducing ourselves to each other, and I’m shaking. And I realized that everyone was sort of shaking.
I think the thing that really changed in me was that fear.
I was no longer super scared about doing a bad job, because I learned that doing a bad job – making mistakes, fucking up, flopping – is the only way that you can properly move forward.
You can’t make a path out of perfect bricks. So, a few of the bricks aren’t going to be perfect. But the path isn’t going to get made if you’re waiting for the perfect brick to place down. You’ve just gotta keep placing bricks. And some of those bricks are going to be pieces of shit, and some of those bricks are going to be amazing. You can’t just place an amazing brick and stop and be like, that brick is so good. You’ve just got to move on and keep placing bricks.
Moss: Nests and eggs and bricks, that sounds like some sort of garden.
Yoz: So there is this garden there, in a place made of bricks, in the courtyard where we all have lunch. There’s a garden with fresh herbs and veggies.
One day I was eating in this garden, and I was thinking that not only are we all, from all around the world, sitting in this one little french courtyard, sharing a salad that’s made from this garden, but hundreds of clowns over the past decades have all sat in that little courtyard and shared meals from the same garden.
And it’s this really beautiful interconnecting thing, that we’ve all been sort of nurtured by that same garden, hundreds of us that will never meet.
Moss: This show touches on some heavy themes of neurodivergence through the unlikely medium of clowning – what inspired you to write it?
Yoz: The funny thing about writing a show that touches on something is that often you’ll write it, and then look back at it and go, ‘oh, I’ve written this from my perspective’.
I was just telling my story, albeit slightly fantasized, romanticized even.
I never say the word autism in the show. I made that decision after I wrote it, during development,
I have this theory that people can watch something and go, oh, I really connected with that, but if you go, at the top, this is about this, then they’re more reticent, like, ‘well, I don’t have that so I’m not going to relate to this.’ Whereas if you don’t name it, they go, ‘oh, I relate to that.’
It’s kind of a way of being less didactic, but also more… not appealing, not even palatable. Maybe it’s sugarcoating. Is it? Yeah.
Since doing this show, I’ve heard this phrase, this joke, many times, which is like, ‘a comedian with ADHD is a comedian. A comedian with autism is a clown.’
This show, I guess, is just catching the public up on what everyone in the business already knows.
Moss: What’s an element of the show that you wish more people got?
Yoz: I wish more people got that it was sort of about neurodivergence, even though I am the stubborn one and being like, I’m not going to talk about it more.
The girls that get it, get it, but there’s a swath of people that don’t get the bit that I’m not saying out loud.
It’s like those dog toys where they put all the treats in the toy and the dog has to work out how to get them out. It’s enrichment for the brain. That’s what my show is. It’s like I’m giving you all these little disparate pieces, but if you actually put them together, it’s a delicious treat.
Moss: What are you looking forward to at the Adelaide Fringe?
Yoz: I love the stress. I’m addicted to the stress of, oh god, again. We’re doing this again. I love the energy that Adelaide takes on in these next few weeks before Fringe. It’s sort of electric. Even though it’s been summer for what feels like months, it does feel like everyone’s coming out from the snow and being like, oh, we’re all hanging out again.
Moss: This show started in your hometown of Adelaide and now it’s ending in the same place. How does that feel?
Yoz: It’s sort of finishing the circle.
My sense of humour, and my theatrical sensibility and performance style is a result of over a decade of performing in the Fringe, of 20 years of being involved in the arts in Adelaide. So lots of me is from this place, and my audience is here, they really get my shows a lot more.
When I’m performing overseas, I can at least reassure myself that if this goes shit, I’ll never see these people again.
Whereas performing at home, in Adelaide, the place that I create and live – if it’s shit, I’m going to see some of these people in the supermarket. If it’s shit, they’re not going to try my next offering, which is probably going to be better. So there’s more pressure.
Moss: What’s the next offering?
Yoz: There’s gonna be another sort of exploration of the self, but I think somehow less didactic than this show. Which already, its aim is to be not at all talking about what it’s about.
I want to do more silly shit that is symbolic of important, heavy stuff. I want to do a sketch about, I don’t know, a sock puppet who really wants to eat an apple, but just can’t eat an apple. To be really stupid and really funny, but make a few people cry.
The working title is “Yoz truly”, which is currently my email sign-off.
Moss: What do you wish audiences would take away from “No Babies in the Sauna”?
Yoz: I guess that the ethos that real life is funnier than scripted comedy.
That’s not to say I want them to be like, ‘This was shit, what happened at the pub yesterday was better.” I want them to realize that, instead of sitting at said pub and telling each other about the punchline of a sitcom they saw, or quoting TV back and forth to each other, that if they pay enough attention to their reality there are punchlines about. I just want people to have the takeaway to pay more attention, and find the funny in their lives.
Moss: If the show were a drink, what kind of drink would it be?
Yoz: It’s a really, really dirty martini. It’s got four olives in it. But also, instead of vodka or gin, it’s Bailey’s. So it’s a really, really dirty Bailey’s martini.
Jake Mace
