Mayanne
Ross likes to say she was born a clown but has been doing it
professionally for seven years.
Originally from Ardsley, NY, where she held an executive position at
the New York Transit Authority, she and her husband decided to relocate
to Laconia about 10 years ago and start a family.
Ross started teaching preschool when she had her kids; there, she
realized how much she loved working with children. Not long after that,
she happened upon a balloon-twisting book and before she knew it she
was Simplicity the Clown. She now goes by Simplicity—all the time—and
is one of the most popular clowns in New Hampshire (customers need to
book her six to eight weeks in advance). She’ll be performing at
Hampshire Plaza on Thursday, June 21, as part of Intown Manchester’s
Summer Music Festival 2004 Noontime Performance Series.
How did you get into clowning?
When I had my kids I started teaching preschool, and when I was
teaching preschool I realized I wanted to be around children, ‘cause I
love kids. And I want to be paid well for what I do, because I’m good
at what I do. So, there was one time [seven years ago] we were visiting
my husband’s parents in their cottage in Chatham, New York, and one of
their guests had left behind balloon-twisting catalogue, and the rest
is history. I picked up the book and said, ‘This is something I can do.’
Do you have any specialties?
I’m very versatile. I love children’s parties ’cause I get to play
games. We play an hour’s worth of fun and games, and I give out prizes
and stuff. It doesn’t make me as much money as the corporate events
with balloon twisting and face painting, but I love working with kids,
they’re fabulous. The corporate events are fun because I get to be
creative; I do balloon twisting and face painting. I get to be creative
with each person on line.
What kinds of games do you play with
the kids?
Oh, I’ve got a set that starts out with musical hula-hoops, parachute
games, limbo, hokey-pokey, electric slide… [laughs]and depending on the
size of the group I’ll throw in duck, duck, goose. And in the pre-teen
years where they say, ‘Geeze, I wanna play all these game but I don’t
want a clown,’ I will come in blue jeans and a T-shirt, as I am and
without the clown face. And I’ll do relay races—because the pre-teen
kids are very competitive. But with the younger kids, no one ever has
to get out in my games. I don’t think it’s fair for kids to have to get
out—it’s almost like a punishment.
Do the kids ever get scared of you?
Occasionally, but what I tell the parents is if your child is
frightened, just tell them they don’t have to play if they don’t want
to. When you’re ready to play, you go and play. So I tell them to tell
their kids that and to go talk to adults—they’ll get bored enough and
they’ll come over and overcome their fear. And I think out of all the
parties I’ve done, over the seven years I’ve done them, maybe two kids,
overall, have not come to me by the end of the party. They see that I
have a very friendly face. I don’t disguise my voice for little kids,
because I feel it frightens them. So I come in, I’ve got a very
friendly face, and I ease them in, like dangling a carrot in front of a
donkey, just sort of ‘Come on, get your prize’ [laughs]. The kids have
a blast.
What about adults—do they ever get
scared?
There are some adults who get freaked out. I grew up in a large family
of five kids and, you know, kids can be mean. As you’re growing up, you
know, my brothers used to pick on me if I got upset about something or
if I was happy about something, you know, they’d joke around and it
makes you feel self-conscious. Those are the people that I find are
afraid of clowns. They are afraid to experience something different.
They are so set in it that they don’t realize it’s happening. When
adults do approach me and say, ‘I’m afraid of clowns,’ I’ll say, ‘Ok,
fine,’ and I’ll just turn my back. It’s ok; it’s not a problem. I turn
away from them, I don’t look them right in the eye. I have different
ways of handling that, too. There are parents who say, ‘My kid would
love to have a clown, but I’m kind of afraid of them.’ So I’ll say, ‘Go
on my Web site, look at the pictures of me.’ I more or less do a
psychological consultation on the phone [laughs]. There are phobias out
there. It’s a matter of their own self-confidence, and I don’t push it
on anybody.
Is it hard to do your act in the hot
weather?
It is very warm, but you get used to it. After seven years, there was
only one party that I’ve gone to that was out in the middle of the
field, and it was 98 degrees. There was no breeze. I left there, my
makeup was actually bubbling on my face. It wasn’t boiling—it was just
that there was so much sweat underneath the makeup. So, you get used to
it. You prepare yourself for things like that. You replenish your water
quite a bit—I have a case of water bottles in my car. I pound a bottle
of water before I go into a job site, and I pound another one when I
come out, so I don’t dehydrate. If you keep hydrated, it really isn’t
that bad.
How does your family feel about your
career?
Oh, they love it. My husband walks around town and says ‘I’m married to
a clown and I can get away with saying it.’ He loves saying that. And
my son would like to follow my footsteps. He’s a character. My kids
have learned to twist two or three balloon animals themselves. My
daughter is trying to do balloon décor with me when I do balloon
décor at home for practice. She can assemble a column as high as
she can reach, so she’s doing really well with it. My son’s got a clown
outfit and everything; he can’t wait to go out on a job with me. He’s a
nut.
Do you ever just throw on the costume
on when you’re not working?
Occasionally I do. As a matter of fact, I will carry my balloons
sometimes when I go out for breakfast at a restaurant—not in clown
suit—but I’ll bring my balloons with me and twist balloons while I’m
waiting for my food to be served. I went to the dentist the other day,
and I was twisting in the waiting room, decorating their whole office,
and they love that. And there are times when I’ll just want to goof on
somebody, one of my friends or whatever, I’ll dress in clown and I’ll
go and drop to my knees in song. I have fun with it, I love it.
So what is it about clowning that
keeps you so excited?
It’s making people smile, and it’s just so much fun. I mean, the kids
just eat it up. I think kids are a great place to inspire: if they can
use their imagination, if they can be allowed to have fun, and not
worry about it, and see an adult playing these games and having fun
with them, it teaches them that it’s okay to have fun, it’s okay to
laugh.
What do you say to someone who wants
to drop everything and become a clown?
You can’t just drop everything and be a clown [laughs]. I’ve been off
to clown school. If they wanted to, they really—the one thing that I
would say, if someone says ‘Well gee, I want to do some clowning,’ they
have to love kids, all right. And they have to respect kids. If you
want to be a clown, you don’t necessarily have to be a funny clown, as
long as you’re fun. And I never talk down to children, and I’ve seen
clowns do that; they will put them on the spot and embarrass them for a
laugh, in front of the adults, to get their reaction. And that gives
the kids a bad taste. You never want to embarrass a child; if they
happen to get embarrassed by something you do, that’s one thing, but
you don’t go out of your way to embarrass a child for a laugh from the
adult crowd. I play right for the kids. So if someone wanted to go out
and be a clown, I’d say study.
—Bernard Vaughan.
