In February 2024 I travelled to France to study Bouffon (a type of clowning) at École Philippe Gaulier.

I had a wonderful time. I was lucky to study with two incredible teachers; as brilliant as they were brutal. It was unbelievably hard at times, and genuinely scary. Still, I’d recommend it to anyone.

I went, mostly, because I had begun performing more frequently as a solo musician and wanted to have a better understanding of stage presence. I hadn’t anticipated that what I learned there would have implications for my practice as a composer, my teaching methodologies/philosophies, and – to an extent – my everyday life.

1. There was a drum which took some getting used to! If you were on stage and it wasn’t going well, the teacher would bang the drum (or “drum the bang” as one teacher liked to say) and you would stop what you were doing… certainly not a pedagogical method I am going to adopt at Leeds Conservatoire! However, the most common reason for being banged off stage was if the teacher thought you were not visibly enjoying yourself. I loved this. It is such a great way of thinking about criticism, and it is an approach I now use with my students (from time to time). It’s not a case of whether “I” like their music or not, but whether “they” enjoy making it. Are they finding the process of composing fun and exciting, or are they getting bogged down in the material? Are they writing with freedom or are they hampered by compositional technique or a fear of failure? Are they audibly enjoying themselves? The beauty of this is how personalised it all is. At École Philippe Gaulier, one student might love playing in a particular way, and another might find it restrictive, boring, uninspiring, or offensive. It is the same with composing; the above method of criticism is free from judgements on style and genre and allows me and the student to discuss the joy their music might bring.
2. In the first week of my Bouffon training, I had an epiphany. Several students were on stage, in their costumes, dancing to some music. It was very, very funny. Something about the combination of movement and music tickled me, the teacher, and the rest of the class. Then, the teacher decided to change the music. For some reason, this combination of movement and music lacked joy, fun, and lightness. Same dance, different music; nobody was laughing. It would be impossible to explain exactly why one combination was so hilarious and the other so unfunny. However, no explanation is necessary. Do the funny dance, don’t do the unfunny dance. Find what works, and do that. Find what doesn’t work, and don’t do that. It’s so simple (I suppose most epiphanies are) but has impacted my music ever since. Working with electronics can be overwhelming; there are a near-infinite number of sounds available, and you can get lost in the act of trying out as many as possible. Perhaps it is better to focus on the sounds/ideas that really excite you. Do the exciting sound, don’t do the unexciting sound. Find what works, and do that. Dig into what works. Explore it further.
3. I frequently play Dungeons and Dragons with my friends. My current character is a friendly, old, chivalrous half-orc called Sir Aksaton. In the past, I would slip in and out of character; rather than properly inhabiting the role by voice acting, I would merely describe what Sir Aksaton was doing. I was, to an extent, missing the opportunity to play around with the character and denying myself a lot of joy in the process. Since studying at École Philippe Gaulier, I have endeavoured to spend my Dungeons and Dragons time ‘in character’ as much as possible. Now my (poor) friends are subjected to many more moans, groans, and other Sir Aksaton noises, and I am having even more fun. I think I take a similar approach to life in general; that play, lightness, and improvisation can improve the everyday. Clowning is not confined to the stage. Recently, at the Music Patron launch in London, I had to introduce the piece of music I was about to perform. I decided to ‘clown’ a little. The putting in and taking out of cables became part of the performance. Rather than feel nervous about chatting in front of a big audience, or worried about how easy it would be to get the cable configuration wrong, it all became part of the show. I joked, played with the audience a little, and had a wonderful time.

I wrote a composition about my experiences at École Philippe Gaulier, which I premiered at the Manchester Jazz Festival hothouse showcase on the 18^th of March 2024. You can listen to it here: