The clown: defined as a: a fool, jester, or comedian in an entertainment (as a play); specifically: a grotesquely dressed comedy performer in a circus b: a person who habitually jokes and plays the buffoon (Merriam-Webster).
Cindy Sherman’s clowns scream of excess. More make-up, more colors, more costumes, more emotion. The result is bright, bold and accosting –the very essence of a clown. By dressing up and becoming one of them, Sherman aims to discover and reveal the pathos hidden behind their artificial exteriors. She becomes an actress on her own stage set, an investigative entertainer, always interested in exploring questions of identity and cliched roles. Masters of disguise, both Sherman and her clowns seek to show us that what you see is not always what you get.
Beneath this heavy facade of opaque makeup and mismatched clothing are people who may, or may not, have anything in common with the clowns they portray. Sadness may masquerade as laughter, malice as benevolence. It is this sometimes frightening tension that interests Sherman. This tension is heightened in the present series by the swirling psychedelic background from which her festooned performers emerge. This is Sherman’s first foray into digitally altering the backgrounds of her work –with the goal that these photographs should look like clown posters, advertisements even. Her clowns sit posed and facing the viewer, ready for hire, to make them laugh or cry.
In the present work, the only diptych in the series, she gives us two clowns. Though there is clearly latent tension between them, both the man and the woman look downhearted, as if they have both been tricked or realized that they were the subject (and object) of a joke. These are not the evil clowns of nightmares and horror films but the clowns that might entertain children at a birthday party. In a nod to Jeff Koons, our male clown holds a miniature pink balloon dog while his female counterpart is adorned with a Carmen Miranda-esque balloon hat. In referring to his balloon dog (fig 1), Koons once said: “it’s a very optimistic piece; it’s like a balloon that a clown would maybe twist for you at a birthday party. But at the same time it’s a Trojan horse. There are other things here that are inside: maybe the sexuality of the piece.” (David Sylvester, Interviews with American Artists, New Haven,Connecticut, Yale University Press, 2001, p. 339).
Koons’s statement is true not only for the balloon dogs but for clowns as well. There is an inherent sense of perversion in these seemingly innocent childhood toys and entertainers that is both profoundly disturbing and equally relevant. Sherman is not afraid to explore and cross conventional boundaries and so she gives us her rainbow assortment of clowns, each exhibiting a range of emotions, which alternately makes us laugh, cry and cringe.