by Why did you get into the comedy?
I always loved making people laugh. I was grew up for sketch shows (French and Saunders, Mitchell and Webb, Monty Python) and used every opportunity to be silly for an audience. I have a lively memory of a very detailed performance by We Three Kings for the 5th grade talent show (“Grief, sighing, bleeding, dying!”) – I won. I am dressed by large, playful characters – wigs, costumes, stupid voices. At university I started doing sketch comedy and never really stopped.
How would you describe what you do??
Gentle absurdity. It is a stupid good -natured program of recognizable things. In my last show, I brought a number of lifeless objects to life – including an annoying California paper straw, a pitiful electrical scooter that is desperately on an open and incredibly scared, sensitive smoke detector. My new hour merges this type of absurd character comedy with drag. I pretend to be a middle-aged cycling man, complete with LyCra boosting, devastating divorce, emotional income and no emotional intelligence.
What inspired the show?
In the past I drove to work through the center of London and wear jeans like a normal person, and I would be overtaken by these boys, all of whom were equipped in the equipment, and I would only think of myself … Sure, sure ,, surely You can’t cycle much more than me. Where do you go? From your Central London apartment to your a little more Central London office? Why don’t you put your feet at the traffic lights? Are you okay?
In a similar time, the drag Kings became aware of me as an art form (such as Drag Queens but instead increased masculinity). I was so energetic, inspired and amazed at how to spend the legendary drag King Collective Pecs and the man! Competition. It is such an exciting, varied, DIY, punky art form and I wonder if I had a drag king character in me. The two ideas combined and cycling was born …
What was one of your favorite appearances of all time?
Sometimes the strange gigs are unexpectedly fun. Last summer I made a place at a small festival. I was with some brilliant comedians (Rosalie Minnitt, Lorna Rose Treen and Emily Bampton). We appeared and the person on stage in front of us gave a very serious presentation about his research on Arctic foxes. In the cold backstage area of the tent, which hears the lecture that I thought AH – they may not be in the mood for absurd character comedies. How wrong I was! The audience was wonderful and all the more wonderful to defy our expectations. This is a professional and a fraud of the job – you never know exactly what you will get until you appear for a show.
Can you remember such a bad appearance, it’s funny now?
When I made a show with my comedy partner Derek Mitchell, we booked a place on one of the stages on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. It is the main road during the fringe and there is an open-air stage for file to carry out a section of your show. Beautiful, theoretical. Except for what is doing well on this stage, juggling and a cappella singing is not an alternative sketch comedy. I played a solo piece -a word -rich parody song. It rained. The small amount spread quickly. Derek laughed his head when the light left my eyes while I continued to appear. There were two other people who watched under an umbrella – my parents.
Any bugbears from the world of comedy?
There are still many unpaid and poorly paid appearances, many of which they travel, and while the Edinburgh edge itself is still seen as a transitional rite, it becomes unaffected. Many working class comedians cannot do it. Many comedy rooms are inaccessible in other ways – male dominated, all white, in cellars or in the top of old pubs. It moves comedians in marginalized groups in an industry that is already hard work.
The worst advice you’ve ever received?
A potential agent once said to me when you have a day job you like, you are a “hobbyist”. In fact, creative work does not have to be torture, and I think the idea that creative brilliance arises from difficulties and that they have to give up everything to pursue their dreams is actually quite toxic. This person was not my agent!
What is an important lesson you learned from standup?
To try and fail! The only way to get better in the comedy is to say a joke in front of people and see what happens. As soon as you have bombed an appropriate frequency, learn that dying actually does not mean die.
