20 years of “circus ring anniversary”, interrupted in the same company, that is an absolute rarity in the circus world. Reason enough to meet Roncalli’s poetic white clown Gensi for a conversation in Vienna – about his life and his view of being a clown. We spoke on the phone the evening before the agreed meeting. “Come by during the break, then we can get to know each other,” he suggests, “wardrobe 93, noventa y tres”. That evening Gensi asked me more questions than I asked him. Perhaps it is this special interest in people that a good clown must have in order to find a connection with his audience.
It is the next morning, a rainy day in Vienna. Gensi has just come from one of the many exhibitions in the Austrian capital that he values so much as an art lover. After a joint walk to the pastry shop not far from the town hall square - he buys a few pieces of his favorites from the waitress Doris, who he knows well – we go into his lovingly furnished caravan for our conversation.
How did the theatre actor Fulgenci Mestres become the white clown Gensi? It all started with Joan Montanyès and his artist collective "Monti i Cie", founded in 1996. For "Monti", who has studied the origins and characters of clowning, which can be traced back to the Commedia dell'Arte, it was immediately clear: Gensi is the white clown. "You are born with it," Gensi is sure today. Back then he had no idea; as an actor he was used to 80% of him on stage being art and only 20% himself. "With a clown it's the other way around, 80% is you." He measures his development stages as a clown precisely by this. So far, he has achieved 70%, maybe only 60%, he says.
In 2005, “Monti i Cie” were hired for the touring program at Roncalli – and Gensi found his artistic home, which continues to this day. “Roncalli is the best place for a clown,” he says gratefully. 20 years – the long collaboration probably lasted because the white clown is a dying breed. If you put a clown in your program to make the audience laugh, you first think of an August – but you often leave it at that, not least for cost reasons. For Gensi, however, it is clear that the August cannot exist without his counterpart. Our European culture is dualistic, one cannot exist without its opposite, “there is no Dionysian without the Apollonian,” he puts it with Nietzsche. That is why other clowns also repeatedly slip into the role of white clown, depending on the situation. He names Eddie Neumann, David Shiner and Peter Shub as examples – and also David Larible.
When asked about his favorite partner in 20 years of Roncalli, Gensi answers without hesitation: David Larible with whom he was in the ring from 2006 to 2012. When he describes the final scene, how Larible is transformed from a clown back into a normal spectator after the final, and how he shows him the way back into the spotlight of the circus ring with a fatherly gesture, Gensi has tears in his eyes.
The roles between Gensi and Larible have also sometimes been reversed quite naturally. "Sometimes in our lives the children are the adults," he explains, "haven't you ever said to your parents 'you're a child'?" For Gensi, everyone in the audience is a child anyway. He quotes his great white clown colleague Francesco Caroli: "Leave your sorrow outside. Become a child, become a clown."
He sees his mission in this becoming a child, becoming a clown, of the audience, which he compares to the work of an alchemist. This transforms a stone into gold, makes it better. He tries nothing less - "with a gesture, a look, a word, a song." After the performance, people left the tent different - better. "This is soul alchemy."
Back to David Larible – and back to Gensi's roots. The two of them not only performed together in the Roncalli ring, but also on numerous theatre stages. Produced by Alessandro Serena, a pioneer in bringing circus to theatre stages, they went on tours with a duo show during the winter breaks. In the theater, says Gensi, the audience's concentration is completely different. In the circus, on the other hand, things are more relaxed. And what about the much-talked-about "fourth wall" between the audience and the performer? "You have to break it," he replies, for example by performing not only on the stage, but also in the auditorium. In the circus, you are right in the middle of it, alone, and "your back has to do the talking too." Gensi has no preference; he feels equally at home on the stage and in the ring – although he would like the theatre world to appreciate clowning more. "The clown simply does not exist in orthodox theatre theory," he states, "but the clown comes from the Commedia dell'Arte and that forms the basis of all theatre in Europe." He lists big names like Shakespeare and Moliere, who all once belonged to companies of the Commedia dell'Arte.
Gensi draws inspiration not only from knowledge of the origins. He now wants to show me his treasure, he tells me when we first meet. The treasure is a bulging red Leitz folder with drawings and pictures that children have made for him over the years. We can learn so much from children, Gensi says, fascinated by the colorful evidence of children's creativity. And ultimately, the circus is perhaps the only place where we can be children again.
The evening after our conversation, I see Gensi again - now with chalk-white make-up and a magnificent white clown costume. During the intermission, someone knocks on car 93 - it is Doris. Doris, the pastry chef from whom we bought the cake that morning. With a satisfied smile, she enthuses about the Roncalli program. Alchemy worked on her.
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