Abayo!

More of what my camera has seen in New Zealand

2012-01-26T03:01:00.000-08:00

A few more photographs from the World Buskers Festival here in Christchurch. Hopefully they'll give you a flavour of the gaggle of sweet, crazy, talented people that are having a little reunion party in this big park.

And yes, we even found time to shoot Lili La Scala in a mundane location!

Home soon, and then on to the next thing. Speaking of which..

Don't forget!

MAT RICARDO'S LONDON VARIETIES

starts on Feb 9th at the Bethnal Green Workingmens Club, London.

Click here to book tickets

Click here to get the podcast

(there's already a teaser episode to listen to!)

A letter home from New Zealand

2012-01-21T02:12:00.000-08:00

It was with my suitcase packed, and weighing exactly the 23kg I was allowed, table packed into ski bag, and camera in my carry on, that I inserted myself into the check-in queue for my Air New Zealand flight to Christchurch. Of course, it wasn't going straight to Christchurch - it was going to LA, and then to Auckland, and then to Christchurch. It was going to be a long day. I perhaps would have been more downhearted about the length of journey if I hadn't glanced across the aisle and noticed my friend Asaf in the same queue, going to the same place as me. Except he had already travelled from his place, in Tel Aviv. Longer day for him.

We were off to Christchurch because we have been invited to perform at the World Buskers Festival. Arguably the biggest and most prestigious festival of street performing in the world, this year it was special, as most of the usual street show pitches had been trashed, along with about half the city, in 2011's series of horrific earthquakes. The whole festival has, this year, been relocated to a gorgeous park - the city badly needed a laugh, and it was an honour to be asked to provide it.

My flights there were fairly comfortable - the discovery of entire seasons of "Arrested Development" in the in-flight entertainment system making it go a lot quicker. I also watched Bogart and Bacall in "The Big Sleep", while sipping a Jack Daniels. Seemed fitting.

As we were making out final approach into Auckland, I kept finding myself looking at a guy a few seats across from me. I was slowly convincing myself that he looked like the famous skateboarder Tony Hawk. Thing is, Tony Hawk just kinda looks like a guy, so it probably wasn't him. Then, after landing, he reaches up into the overhead luggage bin and pulls down - yes! - a skateboard. Totally was Tony Hawk. After going through immigration, I witnessed him be great. There was a kid - a young black teenager - in the airport, also holding a skateboard. Tony sees him, goes over, shakes the kid's hand, exchanges a few words of encouragement, and then goes on his way - leaving this kid with an expression of disbelieving glee the like of which I have never seen. His mind truly blown. How great.

We get met at the airport by the festival organisers husband who drives us to our hotel while telling us stories of the big quake. The side-to-side movement was so great, he tells us, that the street lights swayed so much, they hit the ground and smashed their bulbs. Quite the image.

Once I'm checked in I go down to the park and spend a wonderful couple of hours re-connecting with old friends. One of the things about my job is that half my group of friends are spread across the world, so there are a bunch of people I am very fond of, but get to see maybe once a year if I'm lucky, when we happen to be at the same gig. At a gig this big, it's always a reunion. Every night there's a big buskers comedy show on a huge outdoor stage, compered by the spectacularly filthy Wau Wau Sisters, and as I'm not scheduled to perform tonight, I get to hang out backstage and watch. Fun.

The next morning I hang out a bit with old friend Pete Mielniczek, who hadn't worked much recently, but still managed to completely steal last nights late night comedy show. He shows me where the local shopping mall is, so I can get some supplies for the shows. On the way we pass the red zone. The red zone is the area of the city that's fenced off because the buildings are unsafe and will be demolished. It's about half of the downtown area. As someone told me - the next ten years or so are just about rebuilding the city. Starting again. It's a huge undertaking. You can stop and peer through the fences at long wide city streets that have been stopped in time. Empty of people and lined with cracked buildings, piles of rubble and torn billboards. They look like sets from a post-apocalyptic movie. Unsettling.

The afternoon comes around, and shows start. And they're lovely. Good natured, laid back audiences who have had this festival every year for the past 19 of them, so they know street theatre, and love it. I don't work the street much at all these days - apart from the occasional festival like this one, and a few days at the Edinburgh festival, I'm pretty much an indoor cat these days, but these audiences make it a breeze to come back to it. I have fun, get big audiences, and make earthquake jokes that the let the people laugh at the hellish year they've just had. And I get free ice lollys. Result.

After a couple of days of working, my jet lag is starting to wear off, and I'm getting decent nights sleeps. It comes as a surprise then, when I find myself being woken up at three in the morning by a crazily vivid dream of being in a cabin on one of my old cruise ship gigs. I can feel the ship moving as I wake up. And then, as I hear my toiletries fall over in the bathroom it hits me. This isn't a dream. It only lasted a few seconds - a 4.2, as people tell me the next morning, but there it was. Guess that means I've arrived here properly.

Don't forget!

MAT RICARDO'S LONDON VARIETIES

starts on Feb 9th at the Bethnal Green Workingmens Club, London.

Click here to book tickets

Click here to get the podcast

(there's already a teaser episode to listen to!)

Mat Ricardo's London Varieties opening night!

2012-01-12T03:56:00.000-08:00

It is with an intoxicating cocktail of pleasure, excitement and sheer blinding terror that I am able to announce the details of the opening night of MAT RICARDO'S LONDON VARIETIES. Finally. I know.

The idea behind this project is to get the best performers from all of the places where you might see variety these days, and mix them together to create a series of unique, one-night-only line-ups. In addition to this, every month we'll invite an old hand - a master of their craft - or just someone I particularly love - to perform and then sit down with me for a live on stage interview about their life, career and influences.

The whole thing will be recorded as a podcast which you'll be able to download free from iTunes and The British Comedy Guide. But if you want to get the full experience you're going to want to see it live. This is the first show of season one, which will contain between 4 and 6 shows.

So, who's on the first show?

BIG HOWARD AND LITTLE HOWARD

Howard Read is a comic, writer, animator and actor, in that order. He is best known for being one half (and the other half), of Big Howard, Little Howard, the world's first human cartoon double-act. He is also an acclaimed stand-up comic, writer, author, illustrator and animator.

Howard is the creator, star, song-writer and lead animator of the hit BBC1 children's show "Little Howard's Big Question". Described by The Daily Mail as "a joy, with clever scripts that ring true of that magical time of childhood, while, thanks to Big Howard, it's incredibly, achingly funny".

Little Howard started life as filler in Howard Read's first full length stand-up show in 2002. The next year he returned as part of a full double-act in The Big Howard Little Howard Show which was that year's only British Nominee for the presdigeous Perrier Award. Trips to the Aspen, Melbourne and New Zealand Comedy Festivals followed, including appearances on The Tonight Show With Jay Leno (NBC) and The Melbourne Comedy Festival Gala (ABC). In 2007 they appeared on The Royal Variety Performance in front of Her Majesty The Queen, and just next to Michael Ball, in drag. Big Howard and Little Howard other TV appearances include This Morning (ITV1), The Slammer (BBC1), and Campbell Live (TV3 New Zealand).

MANDY MUDEN

Mandy is one of the funniest magicians I have ever seen. Witty, silly and incredibly clever, she's toured the world with her brilliant brand of comedy and illusion. The only time you'll stop laughing is when your jaw hits the floor.

"Imagine a sexy Tommy Cooper, minus the fez" - Evening standard

CRAIG THE INCREDIBLE HULA BOY

One of the most high energy circus acts Britain has produced, and a perfect example of the new generation of British variety performer. Craig's amazing act is in demand worldwide and we couldn't be happier to have him at the London Varieties.

INTERVIEW

Every career has a start, and mine - like anyone of my age who does the kind of thing I do - started on the street. I learned most of what I do in my years as a professional street performer at London's Covent Garden, so what better way to kick off the first season of the show than by inviting some of the UK's best street performers to sit down and chat about the life, and art, of a street performer. I'll be chatting to:

ROB BALLARD

Rob worked for years in a street theatre double act with Eddie Izzard, and then went on to found Performance Theatre Company, where he used many of the core techniques of street performing to create several hit fringe theatre shows. He also throws knives.

ANDRE VINCENT

Andre was working as a street performer when he was picked to be the clown in Circus Senso - the UK's first large scale new circus, in the 80's, which is when a teenage Mat Ricardo first saw him perform. Since then he's worked as an acclaimed actor and presenter, and is currently one of the UK's most in demand comedians.

PADDY BRAMWELLS

Paddy travelled the globe and made the streets of Edinburgh his home, with just a tiny briefcase, a sharp wit, and the smartest mouth you could wish for. He taught me that if you have charisma and can talk, then you don't need anything else to pull a crowd and make a living. Since retiring from street performing went on to act, teach theatre and put that smart mouth to good use as a stand-up comic.

ALSO!

I'll be talking about, and showing archive footage of one of my favourite old variety acts,

and there's sure to be some very special surpirses...

FEB 9TH, BETHNAL GREEN WORKINGMENS CLUB, DOORS 7PM,. SHOW 8PM SHARP.

CLICK HERE TO BOOK TICKETS

Click here to listen to the teaser podcast

This should be fun. I hope to see you there.

P.S. I've been nominated for a Time Out Audience Choice award, so if you like me, and you like voting, then hey - why not go here and vote for me? Thanks awfully. x

Hackney Empire State Of Mind

2012-01-10T10:28:00.000-08:00

Very busy and stressful week, as I'm doing all the usual work stuff, plus finalizing the details of the opening night of Mat Ricardo's London Varieties, while preparing to go to New Zealand to perform at the World Buskers Festival next week. I barely had time to get a cold, but I managed to find time, and thus sniffed and sneezed my way through a shoot with the wonderful EastEnd Cabaret. Easy shoot, excellent people, what's not to like?

Just before Christmas I'd shoot a set of images for SE Electronics of Kirsty Gillmore of SoundsWilde using their awesome microphones. We shot her as a moody cabaret singer at Proud Cabaret, where I often perform. She'd tweeted how happy she was with their microphone, and they'd got in touch wanting to know more about her work - and thus a new professional relationship was born. Awesome how twitter can do that, huh?

Also this week I had the complete pleasure of performing as part of a cabaret show at the Hackney Empire. It was a special show for the cast and crew of the pantomime, and the friends of the theatre, to celebrate the last night of this years panto. These kinds of gigs can often be less than fun, as sometimes a cast would rather have a party and be in each others company that have to sit and watch a show that doesn't include them - but this one was a dream. And something special for me.

Twenty something years ago, when I'd just decided that maybe I could perhaps be a juggler or something, my parents took me to see Circus Senso. It was the first "new" circus in London ("new circus" meaning it comprised entirely of people skills, with no performing animals), it had a cast that included people who had been street performers, and to a shiny-eyed teenage me it was proof that what I wanted to do, could actually be a job. I remember exactly where we sat - in fact, I pointed out the seats while on stage there this week - and I remember nothing at all about the show except one thing - Andre Vincent. He was the clown, and did a running gag with a broom. And he was a street performer. And he was great.

Twenty something years later, Andre has become a friend. Someone I admire and respect perhaps a little more than he knows. Perhaps he knows now. And in the intervening years I've done a bunch of stuff and been to a bunch of places, but, for one reason or another, I'd never performed at the Hackney Empire. Which is why, after doing a very enjoyable spot to a lovely audience there this week, I came off, found a little dark corner backstage, and thanked the theatre.

Little Adventures

2012-01-01T05:54:00.000-08:00

And that was the view from the little hill in South London where we saw in the new year. Gorgeous view over my beloved city - enough of a panorama to see a handful of firework displays all going on at once. Although the biggest cheers from the assembled and warmly wrapped-up throng went up for the small gangs of kids shooting their own rockets into the air with frankly terrifying enthusiasm. Then we went home and I necked a rum and coke and fell asleep on the sofa. Start the year the way you mean to go on.

I can, perhaps, be forgiven for my tiredness, because the previous day we had gone to Paris. A little adventure. First Eurostar out, last one back, enough time to eat, drink and wander around. And that's what we did. Rather splendid.

I'd been to Paris earlier in the year to perform as the cabaret for a corporate party in a posh restaurant, and I'd had a nice time. Good gig, and I'd enjoyed having the time to walk up and down the Seine before I had to work. While doing this, I'd seen a con trick being played. I love a good con trick - I think everyone does. As they say in the brilliant movie House of Games, a good con trick only works because the victim is greedy or vain. As long as a con sticks to this rule, I think it's ok to appreciate it without moral complications. The scam I'd seen being played out on the banks of the river (and yes, they tried to play it on me and failed) was the apparently famous "Parisian gold ring scam". It's really simple. Here's how it works:

You're walking along, minding your own business, when you notice someone in front of you bend down and pick up a shiny gold ring off the floor. You both lock eyes. "Did you drop this ring?", says the con artist. Now, if you're honest and/or clued in, you say "nope" and keep walking. Here's what happens if you don't..

The con artist, usually looking a little poor, but with an honest smile, of course, shows you the ring. They show you a mark that proves it's gold. "Wow", you both say. You both look around for someone who could have dropped it, but there's nobody who might have. Perhaps you say "It's you lucky day, you found a gold ring", or words to that effect. The con artist will say "I can't wear jewellery because of my religion", or "The ring is too small for me", or even better "I wish I could buy my family a meal with this ring, but how could I?" - then, if you're male, maybe - "Here - the ring is yours - give it to your wife"

Even at this late stage, of course, you could not take the ring, and walk away. But if you don't..

You take the ring and say thanks, and just before you part company with this poor but honest good hearted stranger, they say "Perhaps you could give me a little money for some food? You have the ring after all.."

Aaand you give them maybe 20 Euros - because c'mon - they have a family to feed, and they did a nice thing by letting you keep the gold ring. The gold coloured brass ring that they used basic but effective sleight of hand to make you think they'd picked up off the floor when it was really in their hand the whole time. the ring worth a penny. Literally.

It's a great con. It only works because the mark thinks their getting something valuable for cheap - a seemingly unbelievable offer from a stranger who clearly sees what a decent person they are, a stranger who might not fully understand the worth of what they have, but could be relieved of it for a small fee.. Greed and vanity. On that trip, I'd had a great afternoon watching the scam being played, enjoying the theatre of it - the performances of the scam artists. So when me and my better half were walking alongside the Seine this week, I told her about the con, and we wondered if it was still being worked here. And pretty much as soon as I said it a woman bent down in front of us, picked up a heavy shiny gold ring and asked us if we'd dropped it. Brilliant. We saw it being worked - successfully - on three more tourists within the space of a half hour walk along the river. Street theatre, kids.

And it made me wonder if this is an exclusively Parisian scam. I'm pretty well travelled, but haven't seen this con being pulled anywhere else. I've seen three card monte in street markets in Malta and on bridges in London, I've seen the famous levitating toy scam that used to be big around Covent Garden but now seems to have migrated to Italy, but I've only seen the ring con in Paris. Are con tricks localised in that way? I'm assuming that the scam in Paris is run by one gang, otherwise surely there'd be fights over turf? Put this on the list of things I'd do if I were a deranged millionaire - travel the world researching the best con tricks.

Incedentally - if you're as into con tricks and associated carny shenanigans as I am, "How To Cheat At Everything" by Simon Lovell is absolutely positively a must read.

We did a little shopping in Paris, and amongst other things, bought a couple of gorgeous 50's magazine that had the image below as it's centrefold. Perfect thing to end this post with.

See you in the new year, monkeys.

Red Blood Cell

2011-12-19T04:11:00.000-08:00

The busy Christmas season continues, with my working life a healthy mix of (usually) soul-destroying office parties and lovely cabaret and burlesque shows full of friends. In the last week or so I think my battered show suitcase has visited pretty much every basement cabaret venue London has to offer - so much so that a couple of nights ago it gave up the ghost and died on me. I was on my way to a gig in Soho, and suddenly realised that the suitcase wasn't rolling along as smoothly as it should. I took a look over my shoulder to see a small trail of props behind me that has slipped out of the hole in the suitcase left by a wheel falling off. A line of cabaret performer breadcrumbs.

Maybe it's the holiday season, maybe it's that I have a week off coming up, or maybe it's the free drinks that I get at venues, but there have been a few moments of lump-in-the-throat beauty in the last few days of my working life. Elle Amour dancing in her own personal snowstorm (see picture above) can't fail to captivate. The delightful Lisa Lottie (picture hooping below) hanging from her hoop over the crowd in the most effortlessly elegant way at the Wam Bam club, slinking back to earth and leaving the stage, only to stop, turn back to the audience and flash them that million-watt grin. Spectacularly talented Arron Sparks finishing his bulletproof act by sending a yo-yo flying into the air, hitting a pirouette, and catching the yo-yo in his hat, exactly on the final beat of his music. How can you not love shit like that?

A couple of weeks ago I shot some promotional images for killer tap dancer Josephine Shaker. We spent a fun afternoon in my home away from home, the Bethnal Green WorkingMen's Club, a perfect location for the slightly faded cool variety feel we wanted. She was adamant that she didn't want any photos of herself actually dancing - "No jumping in the air shit" - so we concentrated on letting her look glamorous, seedy and vampy. Our favourite shot is below.

The best thing that happened to me in the last few days though, by a mile, happened in a felafel shop on Charing Cross Road. Gaby's Deli has been serving incredible salt beef sandwiches, felafel and the best hot greasy potato latkas you'll ever taste in the same location just opposite Leicester Square since 1965. When I was a street performer it was a regular hangout. I had one of the first dates with the woman who became my wife there. It's one of those important London places. And unless we do something about it, it's going to vanish on May 1st next year. The current plan to for the landlords to evict Gaby and his wonderful staff and redevelop the property for a chain restaurant. This, obviously, must be stopped. Quickly, a "Save Gaby's" campaign was launched, and I got involved. One of the ways they've been publicising the situation is by having shows take place in Gaby's, so that's why, last Friday, you would have seen me host a pop-up cabaret show to a packed house of happy giggling felafel fans. It was wonderful. Magician Christian Lee and musical comedian Loretta Maine answered my call and helped out, and we had a brilliant time.

From a personal perspective, it was something special. Gaby's Deli has been part of pretty much every year of my adult life, and if it goes, I'll always walk past the the place it used to stand with a tear in my eye. From a commerce oriented perspective, evicting Gaby is a ridiculous thing to do. Here's a small, profitable family owned business with stunning customer satisfaction that is being bulldozed to make way for...well, for what? We're in a recession - virtually all chain restaurants are downsizing, not expanding. Nobody has come forward saying that they'd be interested in taking over the space. It's spectacular bollocks.

I left Gaby's that night full of love. And felafel. I get sappy when I talk about London. I'm not often patriotic - that way awfulness lies, all to often, I think. But I am a Londoner. Born here. Work here. Lived here all my life. Have a zillion sense memories of this town. Can't walk around without triggering geographic memory flashbacks. I left Gaby's to warm handshakes, walked across to Soho and into Madame Jojos, where the doormen greeted me with equally warm handshakes and jokes. And I felt like a cog in the machine of London. A red blood cell flowing around in the veins of my city. A tiny tiny part of something I adore. And it felt good.

If you want to help save Gabys - and all it will take is enough pressure on the Marquess of Salisbury, so it's doable - then there is a website here with all the information you need. Be a mensch and do a good thing.

And, y'know, happy Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, whatever. Every so often I meet someone I don't know, and they mention that they read my blog, and it blows my fucking mind royally. So really, really thank you. Have a lovely holiday. x

More letters home from the light entertainment trenches

2011-12-05T07:48:00.001-08:00

I've been performing at the City branch of the Proud burlesque empire on and off for most of this year, both as part of the Decades show, and in their burlesque and cabaret bills, but last week saw my debut at their Camden venue. Loved it. As you might expect, the audience is a little more savvy and hipstery than their City equivalents, which means you get more attention and less grey suits. There is also a Piranha fish in the dressing room. A real Piranha fish. In a big round tank. Apparently there were three, but one of them went a bit mental and ate the other two, and is now lonely. I will draw no parallels to the competitive life of a cabaret performer.

Brilliant bills at Proud this week, including the awesome Ophelia Bitz, Kiki Kaboom, Annette Bette and Jonathan Finch. All great. If you any of 'em on a bill, you'll be in for quite the time.

This week also saw me make the journey up to Sheffield, to do two nights of Steve Faulkner's Magic Show. I shot some promo images of Steve a while ago, one of which you can see above. I don't, in fact, do magic - but nobody seemed to mind. Steve is an old friend, and ex-street performing colleague, as was everyone on the bill. It was a lovely chance to catch up with Steve, brilliant magician (and the only person to have won both the Magic circle stage magician of the year, and closeup magician of the year) Peter Wardell, and the hilarious Noel Britten. I first met Noel about 25 years ago, for about 5 minutes at - fittingly - the London Palladium, and although we work in very similar circles, we seem to have managed to avoid each other since then. Was great to finally get to hang out with him and watch him work. Both nights the room was completely sold out and packed to the rafters with lovely people.

There's a lot said about the death of variety, and if you read this blog regularly, then you'll know that variety is far from dead - it just moved to a bunch of different venues. Variety never went away, and in the last few years it's started getting much, much stronger. And shows like Steve's are why. Good mid-sized shows that have a sell-out audience of massively up for it people, have atmosphere dripping off the walls, and talent kicking off the stage. There's shows like this is most cities, and a bunch of 'em in London, and they should be supported. At the Edinburgh festival this past August, there was a Cabaret symposium. It seemed a little self-congratulatory for me, but towards the end my friend Tricity Vogue said something that has stuck with me. She said "In the past, people have believed that television was the privileged position for a performer, but now, people are slowly realising that an intimate room full of people who want to see you is the true privileged place". She ain't wrong.

I got a new pair of tap shoes last week. My mum taught me a few tap steps when I was a kid, and ever since I've picked up enough steps from other performers, and made up a few of my own, that I can tap dance. Not well, but enough to say I can. I haven't actually owned a pair of tap shoes for a couple of decades, but recently backstage at a gig, Laurie Hagen - no slouch dance-wise herself, told me that I couldn't call myself a vaudevillian without having a pair of taps, and she was right, so I placed an order that night. They arrived in the morning, and I was doing a show with Laurie that night, so she told me to bring them. In the interval we put on our taps, and started trading moves backstage. It was great. I could still do it. So as we're dancing at each other, giggling, a couple of audience members find their way backstage, lost, probably looking for the toilet. Out of the corner of my eye, I see them stop, realise where they are, and watch us dance of a few moments. And I see it through their eyes. A perfect glimpse behind the curtain of a cabaret show, to see a singer and a juggler having a dance off while a bunch of burlesquers watch. I see them grin, watch for a little while, and then shuffle back out to the auditorium, taking their little secret memory with them. How great.

Nearly overwhelmed

2011-11-25T04:03:00.001-08:00

I've been really busy recently, and will continue to be for a while. I'm not complaining - better to be too busy than not busy enough, as I always say. But when you're a freelancer, the success of being in demand can be slightly offset by the sheer amount of stuff to do. It's easy to feel overwhelmed with to-do lists, and to forget the simple joy of being able to make a living doing something inherently silly, that people seem to want to pay you for. So it's good, occasionally, to do something that will clear the head and put everything in perspective. With that in mind, I spent a pleasantly emotional day walking around my childhood neighbourhood.

I wandered about a bit in the shopping centre where my mum would take me to have a cup of tea in the Co-op cafe with my grandma a couple of times a week. When I was a kid, the Co-op was the biggest supermarket I'd been to and I remember vividly having a dream in which there was a secret staircase at the back of the shop that lead up to the second floor where there was a massive fairground. It's a Tesco now, and there's still no fairground. I went upstairs to check.

Walking around a place you haven't been to for nearly twenty years is a bit like wearing a pair of magic time-bending x-ray glasses. I look at the big peacocks shop, but with my special glasses I can see through it to decades ago where it was Boots - the first place I ever saw security cameras. The big shiny black orbs hanging from the ceiling with cameras inside. I remember asking my dad what they were. Then turning around, and there's a tiny unused shop unit, with the windows painted out and the door boarded over. But through my magic glasses I can see that it used to be the place my grandma would sometimes buy me a 99 flake. And the video game arcade upstairs above the fruit and veg market. Long gone. I was told never to go there because it was full of dodgy characters. It was, but I still went. They had Phoenix, which I was, and am still, pretty good at. In it's place now stands a training and education centre. It always was that to me.

And then I found myself standing in front of my childhood home, and right outside was the old battered green telephone exchange box you see at the top of this post. When I was a kid, that was a lot of things to me. It was my horse when I was a cowboy, a motorcycle when I got bored of being a cowboy. It was a car, a castle to defend, and sometimes just a place to sit to be taller than the grown-ups. Strange how mundane things like that can prove to be the most powerful hooks into old memories.

The rest of week has been, as I said, busy, but completely delightful. I'm very pleased to have been taken on as a writer/photographer for online magazine The Void. My first piece, and interview and photo shoot with Beatrix Von Bourbon can be found here. Hope you like it. I plan to do a few more similar pieces in the future. Let me know what you think.

Also had a great shoot with Ginger Blush. We didn't use the black and white portrait above, but I quite like it. If you're unfamiliar, both Beatrix and Ginger are excellent burlesque performers and well worth checking out if they come to a show near you.

I shot the image below as part of the re-branding of the Bete Noire night at Madame Jojos, and due to some complications, the only place you'll see it in this form is here. The other shot below is a quick and dirty little portrait of Jake, the brains behind Bete Noire, and a lovely fellow.

Remember that advert that I infected your televisions with recently? Well apparently people have been getting in touch with the company with theories about how they faked it, so they made this brilliant little film to explain that it was real, and that the only things I fucked up were my lines..

I'd like to stress that the hair, glasses and awful, awful costume were very fake. As was, truthfully, the iPad. They didn't trust me not to steal it. Probably a smart move on their part.

Also this week I played the saw on stage as part of a band at the RR club. We played a Tom Waits song. It was great. That's another thing crossed off the teenage fantasy list.

Finally here's something that happened yesterday. Knock at the front door, I answer it and it's the postman with a package (my new tap shoes, in fact). He looks at me sideways, then says "You're that bloke of the telly aint'cha?", "Well", I say, "I am *a* bloke off the telly...", "Thought it was you", says the postman, "You're not the only celebrity living on this street, y'know..", Before I had time to mention that I'm not a celebrity, I'm a juggler, and the two are very much mutually exclusive he carried on, and told me about three famous people who live on my street. The first two, I won't tell you about, since they are quite famous and it might be a bit of an intrusion, but the third name he mentioned? Too good not to share. Blakey from "On The Buses". Awesome.

The Big Reveal

2011-11-15T09:05:00.001-08:00

Well, I've been keeping this under my hat for long enough, so it's time to make it official..

Mat Ricardo's London Varieties will bring the finest performers from the last few decades of cabaret, comedy, variety and light entertainment to the Bethnal Green Workingmen's Club, for a series of unique and very special one off shows. This is not just another cabaret night.

Every bill will be made up of the cream of the current comedy and cabaret world, and each month we'll have a very special headliner. Maybe someone from the dangerous early days of alternative comedy, maybe someone from the glory days of variety, maybe someone you and your family sat down to watch on TV when you were a kid..

Line-ups will be revealed a little closer to the first night, but we have some stunning names confirmed. I'm stupidly excited.

But there's more. The first half will be an astonishing variety line-up, the second half will see the headline act take to the stage and do their thing. Then the headliner will sit down with me to be interviewed about their life and career, live on stage. We'll take questions from twitter, and of course from the audience.

And we're going to record the whole thing and release it as a podcast for iTunes!

There's going to be a bunch of extra stuff, special guests and surprises on top of all of that, but hopefully by now you get the gist. To be among the first to hear who's going to be on the first night bill, be sure to follow me on Twitter, and friend me on Facebook.

I'm very proud to be working with the British Comedy Guide, and SoundsWilde on this exciting project.

This has been a bit of a dream idea for me for a couple of years now, and I'm so glad it's finally going to happen. The up and coming generation of variety and comedy on the same bill with some of the stars who influenced them. Like I said, this is not just another cabaret night!

New Coat Of Paint

2011-11-09T04:10:00.000-08:00

Thought I'd post a quick bit of video of "New Coat of Paint", my hat & cane routine, as it was performed at Proud Cabaret recently. I started putting the routine together years ago - I saved a bit of money and took a month off to see what I could come up with. My only rule was "no funny". Pretty much everything else I do on stage has an element of humour to it, so I thought it would be an interesting exercise to create a routine that wasn't intended to be funny. Even worse, it was intended to be cool. I've never thought of myself as remotely cool, so this was realllly outside of my comfort zone.

It's a middling routine, skills-wise, but it's the one I'm usually most nervous about performing. With any of my other bits, I can always cover a fumble or a drop with a good line, but this one has no escape routes, no getout clauses. Everything has to work, and it has to work first time, on the right musical cues.

And it sometimes doesn't.

But.. When it goes right. When all the tricks feel easy and fluid and correct. I do feel cool. Sometimes I even feel a little bit like a dancer. Just for a moment.

The contract a performer has with their audience

2011-11-07T02:08:00.000-08:00

A great night at the sold out Rhodes Theatre, Bishop's Stortford performing in "Missy Malone's Burlesque Revue". It's always fun being the only man on a bill full of ladies, but especially so when the bill is stacked with so much good stuff as it was tonight. Vicky Butterfly, Cherry Shakewell, The Bees Knees all held together by the awesome Laurie Hagen, and headlined, of course, by Miss Malone herself. It was a lovely show - one of those that seems easy to do, everything just slides together and works the way it should. I left the theatre pretty soon after the final curtain to catch my train home, feeling content and placid. This did not last.

As I'm walking the ten minutes or so to the station, I begin to hear shouting - both male and female voices - from the other side of the road. "Oi! Fucking cane boy! Fucking juggler! Oi!". I'm not a fan of being addressed in the way Jeremy Kyle might talk to someone in sportswear who is not a sportsman, so I ignored it and kept walking. "Oi! Fucking juggler! It's fucking you!", and then, from the woman, "Oi! Cunt! I paid fifteen quid to see you. Fucking talk to me!"

I shook my head to myself, and went home. But just on the offchance that those delightful people googled me and have found themselves here, let's clear the air.

Yes, you paid fifteen pounds to see me. I, and Missy Malone, and all the cast, thank you for encouraging live performances in venues outside of London, and hope you had a hell of a night. Here's what that £15 gets you: A show. And that's what you got. You had a stage full of great performers, who delivered the best they could, for the audience you were part of. And that audience was lovely - warm, receptive, ready to laugh and whoop and whistle. Great. We all had a good time.

The contract you have with me, the contract that your hard-earned fifteen pounds buys you, ends the moment the final curtain touches the stage. Before that, when you're sitting in the dark and I'm on stage, I'm yours, I work for you, my only job is to entertain you. But when your lights come on and mine go out, the contract is completed. Sure, often we'll be in the bar after the show and we're more than happy to chat to you, and I've made real genuine friends this way. But, if I'm walking home, then I'm not a performer any more, I'm a guy going home from work, and if you start drunkenly yelling insults, you're not members of the audience any more, you're just twats. And the best you can hope for is to be ignored.

You want to talk to me? You want to say you liked my work, or even that you didn't? Fine - try "Excuse me", and lay off calling me a cunt. It's an odd thing, if you call someone a cunt, they usually take a bit of a dislike to you.

In considerably funner news, I discovered this week that I have been nominated for two London Cabaret Awards, which was a terrific surprise. I'm up for best speciality act, and best show (for "Three Balls and a New Suit"), and I'm fairly confident I'll win neither, as I'm up against some amazing people. It is, and I swear I don't mean this to sound as cliché as it does, genuinely an honour just to be nominated. However, if I don't at least make it into the final three, I shall hunt down the judging panel "Theatre of Blood" style.

Finally, if you have a hankering to come see me this week, here's where you can:

Thursday the 10th: Bete Noire at Madame JoJos, alongside Beatrix Von Bourbon, Lydia Darling, Missy Fatale and Ophelia Bitz - brilliant ladies all. That's the early show, by the way. I'm not in the late show.

Friday the 11th: La Reve at The Cafe De Paris. Dusty Limits, Piff, Pippa the Ripper, Beatrix Von B again, and me! And lots more! Great line up in one of the world's most beautiful cabaret venues.

Saturday the 12th: The Horne Section, at the Criterion Theatre, Piccadilly Circus. It's my third appearance in Alex Horne's wonderful show, and I've loved it since the first. If you haven't seen it, you really should. It's heartfelt, absurd, swiss-watch timed silliness. I'm on with Paul Foot, but the stars of the show are Alex and his brilliant band. 10.30pm start. My appearance in The Horne Section has been postponed. Sorry if you planned to come and see me in this - out of my control.

What a fun week it'll be. Two more things before I go: First, if you didn't click on the Jeremy Kyle link, go back up and do it now. Secondly..

New iPhone + Proud cabaret = a bunch of quick & dirty cast portraits

2011-11-03T16:18:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry Android. It's not you, it's me. Ok, it was kinda you. You were almost great, but had some major failings, and then they went and launched a new iphone, and at the same time my ipod died. From that point on, it was just a matter of time. We drifted apart, Android. You updated your OS, and installed a bunch of software I didn't want, and couldn't delete. That's no way to treat a friend. You had no personality of your own, always just trying to keep up with your cooler and more famous competitor, but just coming across like a wannabe knock off. Android, baby, bubbelah, you're Danni Minogue. You're Chris Penn. For fucks sake, you're Paul Ross.

Oh, and of course I had to test out the iPhone's camera, so here's some quick portraits of some of the people I'm working with this week at Proud Cabaret. This is the last week of my residency, but I'll still turn up every so often at the two Proud venues in the weeks leading up to Christmas, so if you're going and unlucky, you might catch me.

Bad Bluestocking Debutantes

2011-11-01T15:38:00.000-07:00

Very fun photoshoot for the Blue Stocking Society's next shindig, which has the theme "Bad Debutantes" and will take place at the wonderful Bethnal Green Workingmen's club on Wednesday 23rd November. (Facebook based info, here). Great line-up, most of which you can see in the images above. And yes, that's me in the group shot, which means I'll also be performing. And yes, I used a timer to get the photo.

The location for the photos was the frankly amazing Bow Arts Club, which is a batty and wonderful place. Home to artists, the principle seems to be to turn the whole place into a smorgasbord of art, created mainly by those who live and work there. It hangs on every wall, sits on every inch of floor space, dangles from the ceiling and totters on every flat surface. I sat down in an armchair and nearly got concussed by an installation involving a garden gnome pan-frying Lenin, while they both fall into a meat mincer.

One of our hosts greeted us at the door, and then promptly vanished, only to reappear minutes later with the explanation "Sorry, I had to change hats". This is how you win me over.

Also, don't forget...

Proud all month

2011-10-23T11:58:00.000-07:00

October, for me, means a residency at Proud Cabaret, which is just around the corner from Fenchurch Street station in the City of London. I'm there from Wednesday to Saturday until the 5th of November, so it made sense to throw the camera in my bag for a couple of nights so that you could see what I see. Which is what you see above.

To get to this gorgeous venue, you step carefully down a dark little staircase lit by big silver candelabras, past walls covered in beautiful photos of glamorous people (...and one of me. Sorry.) and there it is..all smoky atmosphere (thanks to the dry ice), soft warm lights, clinky cocktails and a cool fellow tinkling the ivories pre-show on the stage.

At the moment I'm filling the special guest variety performer position in their new show "Decades". There's a great core cast of dancers, who work their buns off doing group numbers and solos, but the evening is held together by the brilliant Coco DuBois. I can throw around all the hats I like, and the dancers can shimmy until they've got nothing left to shimmy, but this is Coco's show, and we're all just the palate cleansers in between courses of her foundation-shaking belters. Girl can wail, to quote Wayne's World.

I've decided that when I do clubs like Proud, I'm the alibi act. I'll explain. Imagine Person 1 went to the Proud show, and Person 2 is their partner at home, who didn't. The gender's are unimportant. Here's the conversation the next morning...

Person 1:     No, it wasn't a strip joint
Person 2:     Oh really?
Person 1:     Really. It's a floor show. Cabaret. Burlesque.
Person 2:     Let me ask you this - were there women dancing around and taking their clothes off?
Person 1:     Yes.
Person 2:     Were there men dancing around and taking their clothes off?
Person 1:     Yes.
Person 2:     You went to a strip club!
Person 1:     No. Wait. There was a juggler.

See what I'm saying?

Oh yes, and still keep the 9th of February free. Soon there will be news about this. But it's shaping up very well. Very well indeed.

My fun secret thing...

2011-10-15T07:07:00.000-07:00

Monday saw a really fun photoshoot for "Lady Beau Peep's Extraordinary Christmas" which will be at The Brickhouse during December. Lots of cabaret and burlesque monkeys giving a taste of how they do Christmas dinner.

..and yes, everything got soaked in champagne.

Although I have performed at The Brickhouse, this month I have a residency at Proud Cabaret, so every Wednesday to Saturday night for all of October, you'll find me there in a smoky spotlight throwing hats around to Tom Waits. There are worse ways to make a living.

Oh, and there's one more bit of news. Go get your diary. I'll wait. Got it? Good. Ok, now turn to February next year. Ok, I'll wait until you go out and buy next years diary. Back? Right. Turn to February 9th. If you're in, around, or near London - mark down "Mat Ricardo's fun secret thing". Trust me. This is fun, isn't it? More news soon, but for now, keep the date.

Chipping away at the cabaret coalface

2011-10-03T08:29:00.000-07:00

Another little dispatch from clubland. It's been a fun week. Three nights performing at the Brickhouse, as part of "The League of the Extraordinary" (tip to producers - you want to make variety monkeys happy? Imply that they're superheroes..), a show which is closed every night by the flame-haired firecracker Sophia Landi - seen at the top of this post filling the room with sparks. Spectacle, kids.

Found time during the week for a photoshoot with an old friend, Paddy Docherty, who I performed with thirteen years ago in a West End show called "Joey & Gina's Wedding", which was partly improvised, and very, very fun. He's one of those actors who's been in everything and is always rushing between castings and meetings. He's also your go to bloke for dirty jokes.

Friday night, and I was doing my thing at the Cafe De Paris for "La Reve", which is always a gorgeous show to do. Tonight was hosted by Kiki Kaboom, who I am, as any right thinking person is, a huge fan of. One of the great things about working the cabaret circuit is that you get to hang out backstage with other performers who you like and respect. We all watch each others stuff, and there are lots of hugs and kisses. It's all very lovely. It's interesting, therefore, to compare this with the comedy clubs that I also sometimes work. Very different. Not much in the way of hugs and kisses in the world of the stand-up comedian. Much more of a masculine, competitive vibe. Not as fun.

Nice surprise backstage at La Reve was to catch up with Donna, who runs the Itsy Kabaret in Edinburgh - one of the nicest stages I worked during the last Edinburgh festival. Somehow she foudnout that I could play the spoons, so I got press-ganged into teaching her the thing that my granddad taught me thirty-odd years ago. She is wayyy too enthused about playing the spoons and now carries them with her where-ever she goes. I apologise to Scotland in advance.

Then, a rare weekend not working, spent at the seaside. Trifle flavoured ice cream & clifftop walks. Not bad at all. During this little weekend away, two fun things happened. My friends Morgan and West, the Time Travelling Magicians had, a few months ago appeared on "Fool Us!" with Penn & Teller, and had - yes - fooled Penn & Teller. So this weekend they collected their prize, which was, rather wonderfully, a one night spot in P&T's show in Vegas. This is, obviously, awesome. More awesome, from my point of view, was waking up to a torrent of tweets from various people informing me that they'd mentioned me to Teller, who had googled me, watched a bunch of my stuff, and tweeted about me to his quarter of a million followers. Yow. Always been massive fans of P&T, right back from when channel 4 aired their first off-broadway show "Don't Try This At Home", so that gave me quite the wide grin.

Then, on the journey back home Sunday night, my phone started pinging and telling me that the advert I filmed a few weeks ago had started airing, apparently quite a lot. So - sorry about that. Just so you know - 51 takes, and I got the trick right every single time. Oh, and all the people from the ad agency were exactly like they are in Mad Men. Exactly.

If you haven't seen it yet.. <sigh>..here it is:

And if you're one of the new people following me on twitter or reading this, perhaps you've wound up here after reading Teller's tweet, or you're seduced into googling my name by the heady excitment of an insurance advert, then HELLO! I am nothing like that bloke on telly. I wear nicer suits, am considerably swearier, and make very good sandwiches. That being said, welcome, you can find out more about what I do on my website, or keep an eye on my twitter for upcoming gigs. Get in touch, I'm nice.

Seaside magicians and Stewart Lee

2011-09-26T08:25:00.000-07:00

I sometimes whinge about the lack of a big, lucrative, established circuit for a variety monkey like me to work, like there is for stand-ups, and true though that is, the flipside to this situation is that if you're smart and good, you learn to develop to ability work in lots of different places. And that's fun. This past weekend - perfect case in point.

On Friday, me and my suitcase got on a train and journeyed down to Southport (Changing at Crewe of course - where, as those of you that watched Michael Grade's excellent documentary on variety will know - music hall performers of the past used to meet up between gigs for a cup of tea and an occasional stolen kiss), to perform in one of the gala shows of the International Brotherhood of Magicians. I've done a couple of these magic convention gigs this year and I really enjoy them. First things first - as the only non-magician on the bill, the gig is always lovely, with an audience educated and enthusiastic about the variety arts, but grateful for a palate-cleanser between conjurers. But mainly, for me, it's the fun of being in a big convention centre full of nice older men wearing freshly dry-cleaned tuxedos, and wearing name tags with often beautifully alliterative stage names on. It's really a convention for everyone's fun grandad.

I was on the late night show, along with a very serious young frenchman who appeared and vanished CDs, the comedy magician Mel Mellers (See what I mean about alliteration?) and big box illusion act Amethyst (Who had the best intro from the compere: "I know them as Daniel and Annette - you know them as AMETHYST!" Which for some reason I found very funny). Annette, incedentally, had the most costume changes I've ever seen in an act - at one point she walked on stage, gave Daniel and glass of milk, and left - she had an outfit for this bit alone. Awesome. They also had many, many big perspex boxes, velvet curtains and pyrotechnics.

After their spot, I told 'em - "Look at your stuff - I need more boxes, curtains and pyros in my act..", to which Daniel replied, with a world weary grin, "And a fucking van, fella.."

Then on Sunday night I rolled up to the Lexington in Islington to take part in a benefit gig for legendary 80's living cartoon fool Frank Sidebottom. Chris Sievey, who was Frank, sadly died last year, and this was part of the brilliant fund-raising campaign to get a statue of him erected in his cherished Timperly. On the show, I was sandwiched between John Moloney, a raffle, and Stewart Lee, and it was all rather splendid.

The Lexington is primarily a music venue, and as such has an awesome green room:

Complete with brilliant graffiti

Obviously it was lovely to be asked to be on the show - especially as it quickly became named "The Un-Royal Variety Show" - and I think there was something correct about a variety schmuck like me being involved, because Frank wasn't just a comedian, or a singer - he was a turn. An act. One of us. The kind of performer that you try to describe to someone, and then halfway through, you realise that it's too unique and silly and they just have to see it. And if that's not a good description of what a variety act is, then I don't know a better one.

Stewart Lee was great, of course, and it was a rare pleasure to be able to sit on the side of the stage and watch him work just a few steps away. Brilliant rhythm and pace to his stuff - such good control of when and how to slow it down - almost the way a stunt pilot points a plane nose up and climbs and climbs and then stalls it, so for a moment it hangs in the air, suddenly somehow not a plane anymore, and now just a heavy metal object, turning awkwardly..then as it falls, he turns it into the dive, and swoops back to the horizontal in a graceful smooth curve picking up speed and noise until you feel silly for even doubting that the pilot wasn't always in control. That.

So, two very different gigs in the same weekend - one fabulously old fashioned and unapologetically mainstream, and one achingly cool and cutting-edge. Except not. Did the same act at both gigs, and got laughs and applause in all the same bits. Might have been a little bit more sweary at the Lexington, to be fair. And frankly, I think the audience of magicians and magic fans in southport would have loved Frank Sidebottom, and I think most of the audience in Islington would have clapped in spite of themselves when a box full of fire turned into a cage full of Annette. It's either fun or it's not, and people are either able to enjoy something without wondering if they should, or not.

Speaking of which, this:

Is the best dessert in the world. I had it on Saturday night. It's called Shrikhand, and it tastes of Saffron. Twenty something years ago, wonderful clown, and wonderful friend Pete Mielniczek introduced me to it, and the restaurant where we had it then is still around and still as good as it always was. And, no, I'm not going to tell you where it is. So ha.

A long time ago I was in a Jerry Lewis film

2011-09-22T10:45:00.000-07:00

That's me, back row, between the men holding the live donkey and the grumpy lady with the massive hat (Also visible in the uniform on the far right is genuine London eccentric and vocal sound effects genius Chris Luby, who I had the pleasure of touring Germany with a lifetime ago).

1994, it was, so I would have been 25. The film was, of course, the under-rated "Funny Bones", and it had quite the cast: Jerry Lewis, Oliver Platt, Lee Evans, Leslie Caron, Oliver Read, Richard Griffiths, and it was about the nature of comedy and variety, and it was touching and magical and funny.. so there were plenty of reasons for me to be excited about doing it, but - truth be told - I only needed one. George Carl. He was my hero back then and he remains my hero today. Owner of the funniest silent 7 minutes in the history of entertainment. one of the last links between the modern era of comedy and real, honest to goodness fucking vaudeville. He was the man, and always will be. And he was in this film.

He started out as a circus acrobat in his early teens, but pretty quickly the clown inside got out and he was made for life. He played the best venues in the world, and regularly. Resident clown at the Crazy Horse Paris, regular on the Royal variety show, recipient of the Golden Clown award, and real, legitimate, actual genius. He spent 60 years polishing and honing a 7 minute act. A more noble and beautiful way to spend a life you might be hard pressed to find.

I remember watching him get tangled up in his microphone cable when I was a child, on the Royal Variety Performance (back when it was an actual variety show, and not just a long-form advert for various CDs, DVDs and west end shows), and being entranced by this curiosity - this crazy little old man who came on stage, got into difficulties, somehow reduced everyone to hysterics, and then left, having seemingly done nothing. To this day, I still make myself giggle by getting my thumb stuck in my jacket buttonhole, and of course my 3 ball/jacket routine is heavily influenced by the great man.

He died on the first of January, 2000, aged 84. I never met him. When I filmed my bits for "Funny Bones" he wasn't on set. We shot three scenes with me in, two of them in which I was featured quite prominently, but they ended up on the cutting room floor and all the remains of me in the movie is the scene captured in the picture at the top of the page. Didn't meet Jerry Lewis (which would, I'm assuming, have been awesome and terrifying), or anyone else - although Oliver Platt did hang around and we exchanged a few words. Nice fella and a hell of an actor.

So I never met him, but I kinda did. Whenever I do that 3 ball routine, he's there. Whenever I take off a jacket and make those around me groan by getting a thumb caught in a buttonhole, he's there. Whenever I throw a hat so it lands on a microphone stand, that's him. So a painter lives on past death through their paintings, a musician lives on through the music. A vaudevillian? A vaudevillian lives on through all the little bits of business that people giggle at. Passed down to those who see the magic in them like the treasured fragile heirlooms they are.

George was silent through almost all of his career, and he was silent throughout almost all of "Funny Bones", but towards the end, he speaks these lines about the nature of being a clown:

"Our suffering is special. The pain we feel is worse than anyone else, but we see the sunrise more beautiful than anyone else. We're like the moon - one side forever dark - as it should be. But remember, the dark moon draws the tides also."

Old Passport, New Passport

2011-09-16T10:28:00.000-07:00

Got a new passport today, which means dumping the old one. I thought that they took the old one away from you, but no, they let me keep it, but with a corner of the cover snipped off. It's wings have been clipped so it can't fly any more.

Couldn't help but take a look through the pages before I traded it in for a shiny blank one. These days most airports don't bother to stamp your passport unless you specifcally ask for it, which I don't. But some do. And as regular readers of this blog (and it stuns me into a stupor to believe that there are such people, but site statistics don't lie) will know I travel a lot. I'm not in the Richard Quest league any more, but still do my share of globe-destroying travel, so my passport was packed with stamps.

And with every little blurry stamp is a little blurry memory. Often not distinct, but a feeling, a little ache of muscle memory of a place.

Now, I've done enough grown-up martial arts to know that the trick with life, as it is with the drawing of a sword, is to truly be only in the moment. The past is gone, the future is yet to happen, so "be here now" as the kids used to say in the 90's. But as I look at those stamps, I get enveloped by a fog of associated airports, trips, mishaps, people and sandwiches..

The second image from the top is for Tokyo Narita airport. I got off the plane, excited and nervous, stood in line at the immigration check and noticed that someone had slapped a sticker onto the front of the desk. As I got closer I could make it out - "Andre The Giant has a posse", and a picture of the great man. What kind of crazy balls does it take to slap an Andre The Giant sticker on the front of the desk behind which sits the man who can stop you entering the country? Awesome. He stamped my passport, and I went through, picked up my bag, and got met by a cool Japanese lady called Erica who took me to meet Monkey. But that's another story. Ain't they all.

The new passport runs out in 2021, which feels as absurdly futuristic as 2011 did ten years ago when I got the old passport. I remember that day too - I was about to go on a little European tour with Steve Rawlings. That became no fun pretty quick, but at least it was paid badly.

So. Chapter closed. New one begun. Same book though.

Waiting For Stanley

2011-09-14T09:40:00.000-07:00

Shoot this morning with Leela (also known around these parts as burlesque clown Audacity Chutzpah), for her upcoming one-woman theatre show "Waiting For Stanley", which will be performed at the Greenwich theatre from the 13th-16th of October. If you've ever seen Miss Chutzpah perform, and if you have any sense, you will already have bought your tickets for this. If you're unfamiliar - trust me, and get yourself down there, she's great.

Also, she bought a Toblerone to the shoot. One of the big ones. This is not something future models need to do, but it can't hurt. Just saying.

Sneak peek

2011-09-09T02:32:00.001-07:00

A little sneaky peek at something that'll be all over your defenceless televisions come next month. It's an advert. I apologise in advance. Daddy needs shoes.

Post-Edinburgh wrap-up

2011-09-08T08:10:00.001-07:00

A few last images from last month.

Here's to my ever-expanding cabaret family. You're great.

More festival mullarkey

2011-08-25T03:58:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I totally planned to keep a daily diary to publish here, but things just got too busy. Most days I'm doing somewhere in the region of five shows, and I'm having to work hard to make time for eating and sleeping, so sadly I just didn't find the time to write. So in place of a linear diary, I'm going to post a few random snatches and memories from the past week that have managed to defy the stress, macaroni pies and jack & cokes to stick in my memory.

I won an award. A real one. From the Glasgow Herald. I'm asked to come along and pick it up, and stupidly I think it'll be an informal little thank you, but when I get there – with one of my producers, brilliant cabaret performer Des O'Connor (no, not that one) – I realise that this might be a bit of a big deal. We're in a gorgeous ballroom in the Bank Of Scotland's HQ, and there's lots of big noises from the world of serious theatre, and Ruby Wax is presenting awards, and I feel out of my depth. People are making speeches. All I have is cigar boxes. People are talking about the meaning of their work. All I do is tricks. But when my name is called, and I get up on stage, I start to feel at home again. I thank my heroes: Rastelli, WC, George Carl and Rob Murray. I thank my producers. I thank my wife. And then I smile at the audience and say “That's enough words. I'm a juggler. Wanna see a trick?”, and they're more than enthusiastic. I'd been asked to do a short spot, so I do, and then there's lots of shaking hands and mutual congratulations. I'm told that although these awards have been running for a long time, I'm the first cabaret performer to ever receive one. And I feel a little teary and overwhelmed, and I think – not for the first or the last time – how lucky I am to have found this cabaret world to fit into after trying to force myself into other worlds for so long.

In my other guise as a photographer, I shoot the marvellous Tricity Vogue covered in kazoos, and afterwards she takes me up to Calton Hill, where there is a little happening organised on twitter by musical duo “The Jane Austen Argument”. The part of me that Dusty Limits would refer to as Grumpy Uncle Mat would usually dislike this kind of thing, but when it works, it works. And this was pure delight. Sitting in the sun with a handful of people on a little hillside surrounded by gorgeous scenery, while gifted cabaret singers perform touching songs just because they felt like it. Actually beautiful. I'd trade a few chainsaw jugglers for people like The Jane Austen Argument, if one was able to modify one's friends in the same way as I might have done swapsies with Star Wars trading cards when I was a kid.

Had a stressful morning being late for a gig at the Foodies festival. I hate being late for things, and this Edinburgh I'm doing so many shows that I seem to arrive backstage at every one looking like a sweaty harassed mess. I'm not massively happy when I arrive, and after dragging my suitcase across a muddy field, I'm not in the mood to do a show. But I do, and it's fun – more like a street show than a stage spot, and characterised by several moments when I find myself chasing a toddler across the field with a knife. It was funny, trust me. Then off to catch the end of the cabaret symposium, where I get to sit in an auditorium with lots of my favourite people and watch them talk about...um...cabaret stuff..I guess..? Maybe I missed all the juicy stuff, but by the time the end of the session came and Amanda Palmer was talking about how awful it is when audience members always want to buy you drinks, I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly gave myself a seizure. Still, it was good to bring the gang together and say a little “yay us” - especially since a few members of our community have worked so hard to get cabaret listed as a genre in the festival guide. I just worry that “cabaret” sometimes seems to mean “kooky musical people”, and us variety artists, once again, get a little sidelined.

Fittingly, right after the symposium, my friend Kirsty takes me to see Paul Daniels' show. It's really interesting. It's easy to forget that Paul was not only a proper big TV star (more viewers every Saturday night for 16 years than shit like X-factor), but also totally instrumental in people like me doing what I do. The first time I saw Kris Kremo, Bob Bramson, Rob Murray – some of the greatest jugglers of modern times – all on his show. I owe him, and have told him so in the past when I've been lucky enough to hang out with him. The show is pretty great. It can get a little awkward when he cracks the occasional joke that he shouldn't be cracking – his opinions are a bit daily mail, and that made some of the audience feel everso slightly uncomfortable at times. But when he gets into one of his routines, by god, it's spun gold. I feel honoured to have been able to watch his classic chop cup routine live – it's been honed over something like 50 years, and is as perfect as it could be. And talking of his audience – there were all sorts in – know-it-all people like me and Kirsty, people of similar age to Paul, families, young children. And good grief is he good with his audience volunteers. Once he knows your name and job, it's an unending stream of perfectly tailored gags that let you know just how many decades he's been polishing this stuff. It gleams. At one point, the tiny child sat in front of me was literally on the edge of his seat, hands over his face, unable to stop himself screaming “nooooo...dont do it...!” as Paul had his hand on a guillotine trigger. Any show that can move an audience so naturally is worthy of your attention. Everyone at the cabaret symposium should book tickets for the chance to learn from an old master, but sadly hardly any of them will see this as cabaret.

Talking of cabaret – we've been having some astonishing special guests at Vive le Cabaret, the late night variety show I'm closing every night. A couple of nights ago I found myself going on after Camille O'Sullivan who herself had followed Shlomo. Crazy. Two of the most captivating and astonishing talents in this town, and I get to be on the same show as them? Lucky boy, I am. A smart mouth and a tablecloth has got me to some pretty cool places, and this is certainly up there. Sometimes a journey rounds a corner and delivers a nice view. It'd be a sin not to stop and look at it before hurrying on your way.

Audiences are steadily growing for my solo show, and I'm getting some nice feedback. Three people have now told me that the more poignant moments have made them cry, and another couple have mentioned that they found themselves thinking about some of the things I said a day later. So that's a win, then. Part of the point of the show was to make it a little bit more than just jokes and tricks (not that I don't adore both of those things), and introduce an element of old style narrative storytelling into it. Very happy that it seems to have worked.

Edinburgh Festival diary 2011 Part One

2011-08-07T01:57:00.001-07:00

Monday the 1st

Up at a frankly undignified hour to catch the 7.30am out of Kings Cross, accompanied by the sleeping Desmond O'Connor. It seems this train is a little too early to be full of the usual collection of performers/twats on their way to make their name at the fringe, although midway through the journey I do see two student actors attempting to carry an office chair down the length of the train. Kids, they have office chairs in Scotland. Get one when you get there.

Once arrived in town, we all start to meet up at my producers flat. Mr.B, the gentleman rhymer, is already there, so we exchange the secret cabaret handshake and inspect each others flyers. OK, so there is no secret cabaret handshake, but since this year is the first year that cabaret has been included as a genre in the fringe, I feel it's a good move to create as much mystique as possible around it. Also “Inspect each others flyers” is not a euphemism. Also, we should totally invent a secret cabaret handshake.

Off to see my venue for the first time while we tech “The Bitch Doctors”, which I'm also in. It's totally lovely – a little old ballroom with dancefloor, gorgeous ceiling good sized stage and MIRRORBALL. What's not to like? Bearing in mind that the arched ceiling of last years venue was so low, that there were parts of the stage where I couldn't stand because I would get stuck between the roof and the floor, I'm very happy with this years room.

I get settled in at my digs, and then head out to meet Kirsty – otherwise known as burlesque satirist Honey Wilde. She's up here performing and running the sound on a bunch of shows, and we're both away from our other halves so have decided to be festival buddies and keep each other sane. A good starting point is a visit to Mammas Pizza on grassmarket, where Kirsty pours scorn on my choice of cheese, tomato, banana, sweetcorn, pineapple and baked beans pizza. Until she tastes it, at which point she very grudgingly concedes that I know what I'm doing.

Tuesday the 2nd

I got up today intending to do a street show on the Royal Mile, but ended up buying an umbrella. You can divine all you need to know about Edinburgh right there. Oh, and by the time of writing this, I have – of course – lost the fucking umbrella.

Teched my show today. During the morning I was feeling a little wobbly, but after running parts of the show, sorting out a lighting state or two, getting the music tracks working and using the MIRRORBALL, I felt pretty good about everything.

Arranged to meet a bunch of stand-up comedians to go see Captain America, which was an awful film, but a fun time. Me, Stuart Goldsmith and Rob Deering all agreed that after our techs we were all feeling positive and excited about our shows. Something is sure to go wrong. Afterwards, we were all walking across the little piazza outside the cinema when what looked like 5 bucketfuls of water dropped out of the sky and landed a few inches in front of Stu. No idea where it came from. Empty sky. We all stood around staring at it for a while. Strange.

Then off to the Pear Tree – via somewhere where me and Kirsty could purchase chips (with cheese in her case, with mushy peas in mine, 'cos that's one of my five a day, right?) - to meet filth hurricane Lizzie Roper. One of the great things about Edinburgh is that everyone is seemingly everywhere, so although we'd gone to hang out with Roper, we also ended up hanging out with Hardeep Singh Kohli, Rhiann and Ben from Tricity Vogue's show, and Art Maliks daughters. Funs. There was talk of getting Honey Wilde to do her Mrs. Thatcher burlesque act on Neil & Christine Hamilton's chat show, which would be awesome.

One more late drinkie with Roper, and then I'm back in my bed. Nervous but confident about tomorrows first nights.

3^rd August

Wandered up to the royal mile to see which street performers were around, and arrived just in time to see my old double act partner Dave starting a show. Had a fun time sitting in the front row watching Dave throw clubs around and be silly. If you see a tall, lumpy blonde fellow in an ill-fitting tuxedo on the street during the festival, give him half an hour of your day, you won't regret it. The last time I'd seen Dave was earlier in the year when we took the old double act to a festival in Fremantle, Australia, so we caught up over a baked potato during which I received a call telling me I'd been booked for another show today. Which made four. Four opening nights in one evening. Go hard or go home.

Bitch Doctors was first – partly improvised comedy based around sorting out the problems, woes and ailments (via twitter #BitchDoctors, or submitted live) of the Edinburgh festival folk. I'm on with Des O'Connor and Helen Arney, who are both great. I feel slightly out of my depth, which can only be a good thing. Comfort zones, and stuff. Bearing in mind we'd never done it before, it was actually pretty good – great in places, and will only get better.

Then it was a guest spot in The Voodoo Revue – small audience, but lovely. And then it was the big one, my one man show.. and...it was fine. I think I struck the right level in that I was happy with it, but I can see places where I can tweak it and make it a little more theatrical and stylish.

Finally a demented dash to the Pleasance to do a spot in Vive Le Cabaret, alongside Marcel Le Cont, Piff the magic dragon, Rayguns look real enough and similarly great acts. Another lovely audience, and I'm done. Knackered, but contented. I walk back to my digs munching on a samosa filled with vegetarian haggis. Just have to do all that another 24 times.

4^th August

Same four shows today. It's only the second preview, so I perform “Three Balls..” to six people. Hilariously, I'd been told the there was a reviewer in tonight, and while usually it's a challenge working out who the reviewer in the crowd is, when the audience consists of two friends, the girlfriend of a friend, a couple, and a single guy, the game is easy. There's a part of the show where I ask the audience to name a famous comedian, and when the reviewer suggested Harry Lauder – a scottish music hall legend – I had an inkling he might be my kind of person.

Over the Vive Le Cabaret after my show, as per usual, and then we were all rolling down to perform at The List's launch party, where we were doing cabaret in the old operating theatre – one of those victorian lecture theatre cum surgeries – an amazing room with fold out wooden benches in the steepest rakes I have ever seen, and amazing acoustics – when Ed cracked his whip is echoed for days. Packed house, and another lovely show.

I caught a taxi back to my digs, and the driver had me pegged:

“Just seen a show or just done one?”, he asked

“Just done one”

“Are you funny or a play?”

“Funny”

“Observational or surreal?”

“Um. Observational, with juggling”

“Good lad”

5^th August

First official day of the fringe, and I get myself down to the street performers draw. Lovely to see so many old street performer friends. Lots of people I haven't seen since this time last year, who travel from the corners of the world to do shows in this high street in this week. It's also a year since I last worked the street properly, so I have to make sure to take it easy or my throat will up and leave me on day one.

As I'm having breakfast my phone pings and google alerts tell me that The Glasgow Herald has published a review of my show. I'm not confident – hard to get an atmosphere in a venue with only 6 people there, and although they were attentive and appreciative last night, the laughs didn't really roll. I look up the review and and stunned to see that they loved it. “Brilliantly written and consummately performed”. I get five stars. Knocked out by this. To get such a glowing review on the first official day of my show is about as good as it could possibly get. It sounds shallow to be so encouraged by something like this, but the truth is that there are just so many shows at the fringe that it's impossible for punters to choose what to go and see without a little guidance. For someone like me, fairly unknown outside of my little pond, a couple of great reviews make a massive and tangible difference.

Also luck has gone my way in the street show draw and I have a show scheduled for 1.15 on the high street. It's been a while, but I'm in a giggly mood, so I get myself into the crazy throng that is the Royal Mile and knock out a nice show. Following up the show with the traditional cheese and beans potato, and then I'm ready to yomp down to my venue and do what will become my regular set of shows: Bitch Doctors (which as we start to work it in is rapidly becoming quite great), Voodoo revue, Three Balls and a New Suit, and Vive Le Cabaret. Five shows today.

I'm a little disappointed to find that even with the review and my flyering of my street show audience, I'm working to 6 people again in my solo show. Most of it is story telling, which is fine with a small audience, but some of the routines are really helped by atmosphere, and feel – at least to me – emptier when the laughs are sparser.

My mood dips a little, but not for long. However crappy any of my days at the fringe turn out to be, every night I'm headlining Vive Le Cabaret which is turning out to be a peach of a show – great core cast and brilliant special guest spots. I'm stunned and honoured that I'm closing this show every night, and Des O'Connor's astonishingly great compering assures that I always bounce on stage feeling like a star. 6 people or not.

The only reasonable way to round off a five show day at the fringe is, of course, with drink, so I put a little call out on twitter for people to come a hang out in the courtyard and have a lovely night in the company of Honey Wilde, Eastend Cabaret, Ed and Amelie, Cherry Loco and various other brilliant cabaret wierdos.

6^th August

Bearing in mind that in Edinburgh (a) all the streets are on hills and (b) It's always bloody raining, I'm not sure why there isn't one part of town – the part where all the hills end – that just fills with water every day and drowns everyone there.

Comparitively slow day today – only three shows – and due to the drinking last night, it's well into the morning before I stir. Next door to my venue there is a good looking little cafe – all cramped tables and steamed up windows - and yesterday Kirsty, our fabulously enthusiastic stage manager, was raving about it, so I figure it's time for a nice big fry-up. The menu options are:

Big veggie breakfast

Bigger veggie breakfast

Biggest veggie breakfast

I opt for the biggest, and then add extra eggs and toast. It's great, and it's a pleasure to see a “Tattie scone” on my plate for the first time in a year. But then, beautiful tragedy: I am still hungry. Fuck it. I order macaroni cheese and chips as a chaser. Mmmm carbs.

Bitch Doctors today is great, really tightening up while still allowing for improv. I always love working with Des, but it's a huge treat to be sharing a stage with Helen Arney every night. She's just completely brilliant. A smart, silly and elegant performer, and gorgeous musically. If you don't know her stuff, seek her out.

I'm having a day off from the Voodoo revue today, which means I can crack open a can of Relentless and sit at the back to watch. Halfway through the show, my producer taps my on the shoulder and whispers in my ear that one of the acts hasn't turned up, so could I do a spot. One hurried set-up later and I'm back on stage.

And then it's time for my solo show again – I'm hoping that I get at least seven in tonight, and am very happy to discover that I'm in the low twenties. That still might not sound like much, but it makes all the difference and or the first time this fringe I get to feel how the show should feel. Afterwards I cruise over to The Pleasance for Vive Le Cabaret in the pouring rain, with a big shiny grin on my face.

And who's on at Vive but the brilliant Norman Lovett, who you might know as Holly the computer from Red Dwarf. He's been going for ever, and is a wonderful stand-up. An act full of craft and art. Gentle, clever, thoughtful and silly. We go for a drink after the show – the last time I shared a bill with him was nearly 25 years ago in a tiny little London cabaret club – and he's a mensch. So great to be able to chat to him. This is one of the things that makes the fringe such a seductive and intoxicating place to be.

"MAT RICARDO: THREE BALLS AND A NEW SUIT" Is on at the Voodoo Rooms, 19a West Register Street, Edinburgh. Every day except Mondays at 9.40pm. Click here for mroe info and to book tickets.

WamBam, Winehouse & Work

2011-07-28T05:20:00.000-07:00

A week spent dividing my time between bouncing around some lovely London club gigs and talking at a wall at home in an attempt to remember all the words (so many words!) in my one man show. A show which will have it's first night , along with the first nights of two other shows I'm also in, next Wednesday. Eeep.

Played the Wambam club on Saturday night. Wambam is always a good night, and Lady Alex was on excellent form, which was just as well as a couple of tables were booked by kinda famous not very good cage fighter and celebrity vagina accessory Alex Reid, who was celebrating his birthday. I had a slight sense that things could go south, imagining that perhaps Mr.Reid would prefer the focus of the room on him rather than a smart-mouthed variety monkey in a nice suit, but in truth he was fine, behaved himself all night, and even bigged us up on twitter.

There was, though, a slight vibe backstage, as we had all just found out the sad news about Amy Winehouse on the way in to work. It was interesting how twitter played into this, at least for me. I got on my train at London Bridge and saw that there was a rumour that something had happened. By Waterloo east, a few people started asking for confirmation either way, and before I got off at Charing Cross it had been confirmed. There was a grim fascination in being able to watch the news literally break online, in 140 characters, before my eyes. From a friend of a friend who heard something, to a Sky News alert in a handful of minutes.

The news was, of course, completely tragic. Enough has been said about what a loss of talent it was without me stating more of the same obviousness. I was a little surprised to hear so many people saying that it was a shock though. Desperately sad, yes, but shocking? If you had been asked, a year ago, to map out two or three possible futures for her, surely this would have been one of them. That's why it's so sad, because it was so predictable.

I was a little annoyed by the amount of people equating, in some way, her self-destructive addictions with her talent. Two different things, and largely unrelated, in my opinion. On twitter one person even seemed to align her awful fate with "not selling out". How infantile.

She was good because of her talent, skill, craft and passion for her artform. Not because she was addicted to various intoxicants. There's have been plenty of addicts who have died young and created nothing, and plenty of maverick artistic geniuses who have lived, and created great works, into old age, living clean as a whistle. To find a connection is to do a disservice to anyone who creates good work, and it is to indulge those who have such awful illnesses. It helps neither.

To happier things..

Two gigs last night, one at Jojo's where I was a guest performer in the Folly Mixtures show. I always have gorgeous nights at Jojo's and this felt like one of the best - packed house of attentive and giggly people. Lovely. Then I jumped in a cab and zipped over to a show with Abi Collins, Fancy Chance and Mysti Vine at Home House. Tiny little packed room, and high-calibre fellow performers meant my fun night continued. It struck me, as I sat in the taxi flying between shows, that this was pretty cool. Another one of those "conversations with your teenage self" moments. I was always a shy teenager, and if that kid could see me zooming through the west end as the sun goes down, having just played one show, and on the way to another, still a little sweaty from the stage but ready for more - both shows full of talented and cool people who I am lucky to call my friends.. well, he'd want to make it to 42 much quicker than he ever thought he would..

Just a couple more gigs this week, and then a weekend set aside for clearing my head before I make the trip to Edinburgh for the month of August.

Rehearsals have soothed most of the panic, and now I'm just itching to get started. can't wait to get working and see what craziness the next 4 weeks has in store for me.

Tickets for "Mat Ricardo: Three Balls and a New Suit" at the Voodoo rooms, Edinburgh festival are now available here.

There's no people like...

2011-07-22T01:02:00.001-07:00

Thanks to the ever-supportive Liz Arratoon for the nice little interview in The Stage this week (Click the image for the big version). Makes me sound like I know what I'm talking about.

We did the interview on the phone, and at one point I said something to the effect of "Spandex covered Cirque Du Soleil style wank" and Liz gently said "I am writing down what you say, Mat". She ended up not including that particular quote, so there's still a chance of me realising a childhood dream and being one of a thousand identically dressed shift workers on bungees... I joke, for the lols, as is my way.

Just over a week to go until I jump into the flyer-pocalypse that is the Edinburgh fringe and I'm still scare-cited, but looking forward to getting started, spending time with my cabaret fraternity, and encountering the inevitable emotional roller-coaster that it'll be.

Right now pretty much everything is focussed on a few days in my diary in mid-September that is currently marked "Do something nice somewhere with Lesley"

Also - anyone know what happened to The Fabulous Salami Brothers? I owe them a hug. And the bill for some therapy.

Tickets for "Mat Ricardo: Three Balls and a New Suit" at the Voodoo rooms, Edinburgh festival are now available here.

Wet Spot

2011-07-18T07:54:00.000-07:00

Saturday night working in a sweaty dark basement club packed full of rowdy up for it Leeds folk? It must be the Wet Spot club, and indeed it was. Great show, topped by local heroine Anna Fur Laxis doing her "Prestige" act, which recently won her first runner up in Miss Exotic World - the big Las Vegas burlesque competition. This was kinda her homecoming gig after that victory, and the crowd loved her, as they should, for she is great.

I've played the Wet Spot once before, about a year and a half ago, when I shared the bill with the wonderful Tricity Vogue. We had a meal together before the show back then, and she, in passing, said that she knew of a spot going on the fringe in Edinburgh, and that I should think about doing it. I'd had one cocktail, so I basically said, "Yeah, alright, fuck it, ok", and then set about putting together a show. Perhaps more decisions should be made after a cocktail, because that was a good one, and it set me up for a year of fun stuff. As I write this, I'm in the middle of the first day of a week of refresher rehearsals for this years Edinburgh show, and have started to experience the predictable anxiety dreams and flashes of excitement, bravado, and sheer off-the-cliff-edge panic that only a one man show can bring.

I remember getting massively lost on the way to the venue when I played the Wet Spot last year, and not only did I get lost again this year, but I got lost in the exact same way. I found myself standing on the side of a dual carriageway, suitcase in tow, realising that although this wasn't anywhere near where I wanted to go, I had been here before. I had learnt nothing.

At least this year my hotel was nice. Last year I stayed in the Leeds Etap. A hotel that has bunk beds. All Etap hotels seem to have bunk beds. I do not want to feel like I am staying in a young offenders institution. Maybe that's just me.

Away and home

2011-07-15T04:10:00.001-07:00

Off to Brighton for a delightful couple of days recharging in celebration of Lesley's birthday. There was fine eating, there was walking up and down by the sea, there was falling asleep on the beach and having momentary panics about the possibility of being sunburnt. Mostly, it has to be said, there was eating. My god we had some good food. At one restaurant I had two main courses in the time it took my lovely wife to finish off one. Win.

Then back and hitting the ground running with a gorgeous night headlining a sold out Madame Jojos for Bete Noire. Really strong line-up - Matt Hennem, Beatrix Von Bourbon and Luna Rosa, all tied together by host Ophelia Bitz. And the crowd were up for it - simmering on the boil, just the fun side of rowdy. Exactly how I like 'em.

So, we're all getting ready in the tiny little dressing room at Jojos. Out of the blue, Von Bourbon lets out a little "meep" and announces that she's going to have problems doing her balloon popping act in the second half as she has forgotten to bring balloons. This could be a problem - the shops around Soho that might sell balloons will be closed by now - maybe it'll have to be condoms. Or perhaps we could get some free balloons from Burger King. Von Bourbon's eyes light up at this. "Burger King! Burger King! It's political. It'll be magical!". She's right, of course, but since I'm doing nothing until the end of the show, I'm the schmuck that has to go out and either blag balloons from Burger King, or go to Boots and buy 26 of the cheapest condoms they sell. Either way, it ain't classy.

Luckily, once I'm up the stairs and into Soho, I see the solution - Yo Sushi have a couple of balloons hanging outside - they're branded with a little pink heart. Perfect. I go in and find a staff member.

"Hi, I've got kinda a strange question.."
"Go on..."
"I'm working in a venue around the corner and we need balloons for the show, but we've run out...I don't suppose there's any chance.."
"Sure, I can give you some balloons. How many do you need?"
"Um..26?"
"26? What are they for?"
"A naked girl"
"ahhhhhhhh. I see."

So, thanks to the nice lady in Yo Sushi, all was well.

Like I said, it was a lovely show - afterwards we hung out in the bar for a little while, and a couple of friendly ladies sidled up to us. After saying how much they'd enjoyed the show, one of them pointed at me and said "Where do I know you from?". I said I didn't know, maybe from shows like these? "Have you ever been on TV", she said. Now, there's no way to answer this without sounding like at least a bit of a douchebag, so I said yes, I had been on TV, including a couple of things that get repeated quite a lot, so maybe she'd seen me there. She seemed impressed by this, pondered for a moment, and then said "So, if I slept with you could I sell my story for some money?"

Flummoxed.

"No", I said.

"Not even a bit of money?", she replied.

"No", I said, "Certainly not enough money to warrant sleeping with me"

And I went and hid in the dressing room.

Hanging out with the cool kids

2011-07-04T04:15:00.000-07:00

Just come to the end of an brilliantly busy week. As I typed that, I accidentally typed "busty" instead of "busy", which would, of course, also be true since all my gigs this week were on the burlesque side of variety. It would be churlish and ungrateful, as a freelance performer, to whinge about being busy, but sometimes we're all guilty of it - it's only natural - but this week was un-whingeable. All the shows were lovely, and they were all with great people - most I already knew but some I was meeting for the first time.

Wednesday

Couple of quick spots at Proud Cabaret including my hat and cane routine, for which I was recently lampooned for not having a more creative title for than "The hat and cane routine". This is pretty much the only thing I do that isn't supposed to be funny. A few years ago I wanted to develop something that was different to my usual schtick, so I took a couple of months off and started playing with a single hat and a single cane to see if I could make something cool. That was the point, to make something that made me look cool - and that's something that is wayyy out of my comfort zone. It took a while, and until quite recently I always felt nervous about performing it. A technically difficult routine from a juggling perspective combined with the risk of people laughing at a man trying to be cool always gave me butterflies, but recently it's found it's rhythm and now I love doing it. I'm relaxed enough with the skills half to be able to concentrate and enjoy the performing element, and when it goes right, I do feel cool.

Thursday

To the Royal Horticultural Halls for a corporate gig. A few little cigar box spots to a nice audience in a beautiful venue, which seemed familiar to me for some reason although it took me a while to work out why. It's the same hall that my mum used to take me to when I was a kid, to go to the early home computer exhibitions. She'd try not to get too bored out of her skull, while the 11 year-old me would visit every stall, chat nervously to the bedroom videogame writers, buy their games on tape (at exhibition discounted prices!) and have my head filled with ideas for my own games that I'd go home and write. Nice for this geek to revisit that.

People bitch about doing corporate gigs, and sure, sometimes they can be soul-destroyingly awful, but this was perfectly nice. And I can't be too down on an evening that allowed me to watch killer chanteuse Kitty La Roar in a slinky gold lame dress squirming about on top of a white grand piano that floated on a cloud of dry ice while a tap dancer hoofed to the song she was singing. Niiice.

Friday

My second appearance at Time Out's Friday Night Freakshow at The Udderbelly. A fun late night bill of some of the more notorious UK Cabaret monkeys, hosted by Miss Behave, who alternated her costume tonight between her usual bespoke latex and a plush all in one mouse suit. I wasn't massively happy with my work in the previous months Freakshow - it was ok, but I felt I was a bit lacklustre, but tonight I knocked it out of the park - receptive audience, a few nice little improvy bits and for some reason I said "Penis" which made me giggle afterwards.

I got a text from Miss Behave at 3.50am that night that read "Am at airport departure lounge wearing mouse suit. Love Mouse behave"

Saturday

Piling into Beatrix Von Bourbon's little green car with Honey Wilde and bombing down to Chelmsford for the Fling Festival. Great crowds in the cabaret tent who were up for it from the first show, and enough time between slots for the cast to descend en-masse on, respectively, the ice cream van, and then the curry stall/Bollywood dance workshop. Those Chelmsfordians got a good show, with the batshit Moonfish Rhumba, excellent Lydia Darling and force of nature Khandie Khisses, who danced until she literally bled, but rarely lost the big daffy grin from her face (see bunny-based portrait above).

Sunday

Off to the Derngate theatre in Northampton in a show hosted by Kiki Kaboom, who is basically prozac in a ballgown. Another stacked bill, and another chance to hang out with some friends and make some new ones. I'd heard nothing but good things about Fancy Chance, and had wanted to see her work for a while, but although we work most of the same venues, we had so far managed somehow to not ever be on the same bill on the same night. That was rectified tonight though, and boy was it worth the wait. What kind of comedy act parodies Prince in their first spot, and the whole of North Korea in their second? A damn good one, obviously.

Everyone, when they're at school, wants to hang with the cool kids. Most people - myself certainly included - didn't. And those that do, usually find out that the cool kids really ain't that cool anyway. I think these days I get to hang out with the cool kids quite a lot, and you know what? They are pretty cool. And smart, and funny, and sweet. And dressed as mice. Or bunnies. Or Prince.

Ginger Blush

2011-06-23T09:34:00.002-07:00

A very very fun and easy shoot with the fabulous Ginger Blush. Ginger is yet another woman who proves wrong all those assholes who say that women can't be good-looking and funny. This is a woman, after all, who has performed burlesque routines as both Marty McFly and a chicken, amongst other things.

The main purpose of the shoot was to get some nice images for her new website, but I managed to steal a few quick fun portraits too, as is my wont. For one of the shots (which didn't end up being anything good, but you never know), we went outside my flat. As we walked back, I noticed Pranesh and Sue who run the minimarket next door to my flat, watching us through their window. A few weeks ago they let me shoot Mysti Vine in their shop, so I figured that they wouldn't be too bemused by seeing me walking around with another girl in full showgirl outfit.

Later, after Ginger had left, I went to their shop to get some stuff. Sue, a middle-aged Indian woman and Pranesh's mum, cornered me by the bread. "Another nice girl, huh?", she said, all raised eyebrows, "The other one - the one you brought into the shop - she had very nice legs, very long. Hmmm. But this one...more..." and then she held her hands out in front of her chest and did the international sign for "big boobs".

Uncomfortable.

Oh, also: the traffic to this blog has skyrocketed thanks to all the people coming here to see my pictures of Richard Herring & co and the last AIOTM . Hello new readers! Thanks for coming - I try to post at least once a week, and it usually ends up being a little more often then that. The posts are usually either sneek peek images from recent photoshoots, or diary-type entries about my work as a cabaret performer. Either way, it's heavy on the snark and honesty. Check out the website links to the right for more info on who I am and what I do.

Good, that's that done. Let's be careful out there.

Cumpkin R.I.P.

2011-06-21T02:13:00.000-07:00

Back at the Leicester Square Theatre for one final time to shoot the last ever AIOTM . And if you don't know what that is, then you won't know what a cumpkin is, and *I'm* not going to tell you. Google it. Unless you're my parents, in which case - really don't.

Was a great final show - long, completely self referential and perhaps even a little moving in places (Rich playing trumpet gave everyone daffy smiles) - all made better by a massively up for it sell-out audience.

I first came down to shoot the show in show 2 of the first series, and was at a loose end professionally and personally. I'd had some big life changes, got hugely disillusioned with the realities of being a success in Europe but unable to make a living in my home country, and was trying to start again after 20-odd years by prioritising things that were interesting and fun rather than conventionally "good for one's career".

Now it's the best part of a couple of years down the line, and I'm stunned by how things have turned out. I'm making a decent living performing in the shiny and wonderful circuit of cabaret and burlesque venues in London and the UK, won a little national award for my photography, and wrote and performed a one man show at the Edinburgh festival that got the best reviews of my career and lead to a producer being foolhardy enough to take me back up to the festival this year for a bigger version of the show. I've been accepted into a family of amazing performers and promoters who make up a beautiful network of clubs and shows that I feel I've waiting most of my career to be a part of.

All this, and I get to go out for dinner with my wife more often that once every couple of months in between contracts. Good deal, kids.

I'm not saying this to brag, I'm saying this to remind myself, and I guess you, of how it happened. I stopped thinking about work, and started chasing stuff that was fun, involving people I liked . I stopped trying to get the great gigs and instead played with the idea of creating some interesting work for it's own sake. This was, I think, a similar mindset that motivated Richard's decision to start AIOTM - to stop being annoyed at things that you can't really control, and instead just sit down and make something. If you're a creative, then create.

If you're going to the Edinburgh festival, Richard will be performing his new show "What is love anyway"at the Udderbelly and doing a daily fringe podcast at The Stand, and I will be doing my show "Three Balls and a New Suit" at the Voodoo Rooms and appearing daily in "Vive Le Cabaret" at the Pleasance Forth.

Lady Alex walks the dogs

2011-06-20T05:13:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's another in the "Showgirls in Mundane Locations" series!

Top is the main image, but I've thrown in a couple of backstage-y shots too.

This time, we have the beautiful, talented and batty-as-chairs Lady Alex - kingpin (or should that be Queenpin?) of the completely fabulous Wam Bam Club which reduces London's Cafe De Paris to a blushing wet mess every Saturday night, and of which I am a bit of a regular in my performing capacity.

The little white dog, Sookie, is Alex's, and can always be found backstage at Wam Bam being given bits of Pringle by giggling burlesque performers. She has a plastic Marilyn Monroe dog toy, which has lost half it's head from being chewed and now looks like a dark commentary on the nature of celebrity, rather than a kitsch plastic novelty.

Angry babies, Space buddies & Snapmares

2011-06-15T04:59:00.000-07:00

Yes, we're talking wrestling. More specifically, Lucha Libre, which translates directly as "Just shut up and come to the show with me, you're going to love this, trust me". I think.

Spent a couple of excellent nights shooting at the London School of Lucha, at the invitation of the masked gentlemen behind the underground spectacle that is Lucha Britannia. Fun was had, bodies were introduced to the mat forcefully, and people jumped, kicked, flipped and flew with elegance, grace, aggression and spandex.

"The ring is a lake", said trainer (and cockney crusader) Greg Burridge at one point, "Stomp across it and you're going to sink, you have to move like a pebble skipping across the water". Rules for life, kids.

If you know me, then you'll probably know that I have a bit of a background in combat arts, both real and theatrical, and I cannot tell you how hard I had to work just to remain grown up and professional while stepping into the ring to shoot. All I really wanted to do was ask everyone to step outside and leave me alone with the ring for half an hour so I could run around like a child, hitting the ropes and throwing a couple of flip bumps. Ironically I currently have a bugger of a neck injury, so it was me walking around like an old wrestler rather than any of the actual wrestlers.

Anyway - if you're in London and you fancy training in Lucha Libre - and trust me, it's serious business that'll get you fit fast, or just want to see masked superheroes kicking the crap out of each other and spinning through the air before your very eyes, then check out Lucha Britannia.

Everyone should have friends with secret identities who put on masks and fly.

Hagen & Chutzpah!

2011-06-06T10:24:00.000-07:00

Had the pleasure of Audacity Chutzpah and Laurie Hagen coming by the studio today to shoot an image for the poster for their upcoming show "Hagen & Chutzpah's Night of Stuff!". They are, and I don't think they'll mind me saying this, stylish, glamorous, and completly batshit nutbag crazy. If you like your burlesque witty and silly, then get yourself some tickets for this show. I also hear there's a promising young juggler on the bill, who they're giving a chance to.

So, while they were around we also took the chance to grab a couple of new "Showgirls in Mundane Locations" shots. If you're new here, this is an ongoing personal project that tries to talk about the duality of a performers life by putting showgirls in..um..mundane locations. Up we skipped to the laundrette at the end of my street, which was completely empty, allowing us to walk in, set up the shot, and get out without anyone ever knowing. Photo ninjas, that's us.

We had planned to go up to the local park and shoot both ladies on a park bench with cans of cider looking the worse for wear, but we'd timed it wrong, and the park was full of schoolkids and - amazingly - policemen. Suddenly it became apparent that this wasn't the best time to shoot some showgirls getting drunk, so we turned tail and retreated back to the studio, where we shot Audacity on the toilet.

And then, as Laurie was getting ready to go home, I watched her put on the red scarf and hat, dragged her over to the window and shot that little portrait using just the natural light. Happy with all the shots today, and happy is good.

Tickets for "Mat Ricardo: Three Balls and as Good Suit" at the Voodoo rooms, Edinburgh festival are now available here.

Nazis, Slags and dangerous clowns...

2011-06-04T11:49:00.000-07:00

Lovely to be part of Time Out's "Friday Night Freakshow" last..um..friday, at the Udderbelly on the South Bank, which featured - amongst many other things - the people referenced in the headline to this piece. Completely packed bill chock full of greatness. Always a nice feeling to be in a show alongside a bunch of acts that, if I was putting on a show, would be high up on my list of people to call.

Also worth pondering that a few short years ago a show like this would have had trouble existing, let alone drawing a sell-out crowd on the South Bank and being promoted by Time Out. I often joke that I waited twenty-odd years for the cabaret, variety and burlesque circuits to arrive so I could work them, but it's pretty much true. When I first started doing what I do, the choice of venues were not great - either Butlins and seaside Summer season gigs, where you'd be patronised by the older acts and paid little in both money and respect, or the "alternative" comedy circuit (as it still was back in the late 80's) where the stand-ups would look down on you for daring to have props and not just go on stage with a beer in your hand and slag off Thatcher. The third option was, of course, street performing, which is where people like me gravitated and thrived. But I always fantasized about cool venues with savvy audiences and shows full of glamour, and fun, and silliness, and spectacle. It took a couple of decades and change, but here it is, and here I am. Patience paid off.

There's another night at the Udderbelly on the first of July with pretty much the same line-up, so get yourself down there and see some deluxe, top-shelf crazy.

Tickets for "Mat Ricardo: Three Balls and as Good Suit" at the Voodoo rooms, Edinburgh festival are now available here.

"Mat Ricardo - Three Balls and a New Suit" At the Voodoo Rooms throughout the Edinburgh Festival

2011-06-01T04:16:00.000-07:00

Oh I'm going to be a busy boy in August. A whole month of comedy in various diferent rooms fueled entirely by deep-fried pizza and vegetarian haggis (Vaggis). I can't wait.

The centrepiece to my Edinburgh will, of course, be the return of my one man show, "Mat Ricardo: Three Balls and a New Suit". I played a small venue on the free fringe last year and a little London run earlier this year, dipped my toe in the water and got a few very kind reviews, but this year I'm cannonballing off the top board with a full festival run at the gorgeous Voodoo Rooms. Every night except Mondays, from the 3rd to the 29th at 9.40 is where you'll find the new version of the show (15% new material, 8% more ranty & a whole new trick!).

Information about the show on the Voodoo rooms website can be found here, and you can buy tickets online here. Please do come.

But that's not all.

I'm also guest starring in "Vive Le Cabaret" at the Pleasance Forth every night at 10.30pm (bearing in mind my own show ends at 10.40, it's lucky that I'll be on in the second half of Vive Le Cabaret..) alongside a bunch of other deluxe quality cabaret monkeys.

Also... from the 3rd to the 7th of August I'm one of the guests on "The Bitch Doctors", where I will be required to rant about things that have annoyed me about the fringe. Shouldn't be a problem with that. 5.30pm, also at the Voodoo Rooms.

Keep an eye out for me popping up as a special guest in The Voodoo Revue, 8.10pm - don't know exactly when I'll be doing that yet though!

For the most up to date info about my movements up to and during Edinburgh, keep an eye on my twitter and facebook.

The Voodoo rooms is a bigger and much more yummy venue than I had last year, so it'd be really nice if we could fill it, especially in the first week. So please, if you have even a passing tolerance to my work, spread the word!

I feel like a fighter training for the big fight. Train hard, fight easy. Keep your hands up and your face pretty.

Thanks, you.

Stuart Goldsmith shoot

2011-05-28T09:31:00.000-07:00

Quick shoot for Stuart Goldsmiths new website. Stu was a street performer for a while, and got by on charm and charisma, where most others used chainsaws and high unicycles. Now he's a rapidly-getting-successful stand-up, and gets by using the same tools, plus very good material.

All reasons to dislike him intently, but, annoyingly, he's a sweetheart.

Dispatches from the frontline of mid-level showbusiness

2011-05-24T04:21:00.000-07:00

Had a mainly delightful bunch of gigs this week, and thanks to a new camera bag, actually managed to shoot some stuff while I was hanging around in various venues waiting to do them.

I say mainly delightful, because one of them was marred by a very loud and completely hammered table of women. Nothing new there. Par for the course. All part of the job. Their drunken catterwalling affected all the acts on the bill negatively, and I figured pretty early on that I'd get the brunt of it, as I was the most talky act - no music to act as a buffer between me and the sauced up trouts means I'm the easiest target.

And it was unpleasant. On rare occasions heckling can be fun, if it's done with no malice, but some wit, but if you've just been drinking all day with your friends, and are under the impression that your purchase of a ticket means you now own the night for everyone, then it's just dull.

I think I handled it averagely. When one table is spoiling the show for everyone else, all the other tables kinda look to you - as the person on stage being shouted at - to solve the problem, and short of having them thrown out, or taking the time to individually put them to sleep with rear naked choke holds, there's little to be done. Funny put downs won't work because they're not listening. It's just a case of steaming through it and skulling a beer in the dressing room afterwards, which is what I did.

I'm lucky that this doesn't happen very often. Honestly, I can't remember the last time it did. I'm in the very fortunate position that I tend to only play clubs that I like, and therefore those are usually clubs that like me, so everyone has fun. Like I said, I really can't remember the last time I had a bad night at a club, but I remember the first time like it was yesterday.

Bearcat club, Twickenham. Last 80's. I was down for an open spot. I was playing with a geeky, nervous onstage character at the time - the joke being I'd be juggling fire and stuff, but be all nerdy. I walked on stage and the first couple of rows of rugby twats in the audience didn't get that it was a character, and thought I was actually as nervous as I was acting (When in fact, I was only slightly less nervous..). They started chanting "Scared", which initially confused me, but the confusion vanished when they started storming the stage, grabbing my props, returning to their places in the audience and throwing my own props at me. Hard.

Sounds funny now, and indeed it is, but my central memory of it is sitting on Twickenham station in tears convinced that I had made the most monumental mistake in convincing myself that I could ever make a living out of being on stage.

Such strength does this sense memory hold, that even now, 25 years later, when I have a moderately dodgy gig, I'm snapped back to that night like Sam Beckett. Unpleasant, but as a couple of smart people have said to me recently, the sensitivity that makes bad nights hurt is the same stuff that lets me write and perform well, so you take the cons with the pros.

Also this week I got a call from an ITV show who expressed an interest in having me in their Christmas day special. Those of you who have seen "Three Balls and a Good Suit" will know my feelings on shiny floored light entertainment slaughterhouses, and although this wasn't a talent show, it was still resolutely mainstream. Presented by Bradley Walsh, no less, who even gets a namecheck in "3 Balls.."

They seemed keen to have me, and although I've done enough TV to have no excitement about it whatsoever, it would mean a few more twitter and facebook friends who might be interested in my real work, so I thought what the hell. The production company said they were very excited that I'd like to be involved and that someone from the contracts dept. would be in touch that day to sort out the details. They also gave me two dates in the coming week to keep free, one for a rehearsal and one for the taping.

Over the next week nobody called, and when I called them to try to talk contracts, they seemed suprised that it would be an issue. Slowly it dawned on me that they expected me to be so excited about the spectacular opportunity they were granting me, that my fee wouldn't be important. Not so. On one occasion, the researcher that I spoke to explained that she hadn't called me because she is currently in studio and unable to make phone calls. She told me this on the phone from the studio, where I had called her.

I increasingly got the feeling that they were souring on me, so it was no suprise when I finally was told that I wasn't needed. "I guess you didn't get the email I sent you..". Hmm.

Throughout the whole thing I felt hugely, incredibly, spectacularly ambivalent. ITV 1 is not a place I harbour any excitment about going back to, but a gig is a gig. I won't cry over it though - I once got dumped from both "The Tonight Show with Jay Leno" and "The Late Show with David Letterman" in the same week. Bradley Walsh needs to go some to compete with that pedigree.

Tickets for "Mat Ricardo: Three Balls and as Good Suit" at the Voodoo rooms, Edinburgh festival are now available here.

Better to be busy than not

2011-05-13T12:32:00.000-07:00

Things have got crazy busy. I'm not complaining - I'd rather have too much to do then not enough. There was a point last week when in the course of 24 hours, I'd shot and processed three different photoshoots, conducted an interview and done a show. Got to the point where I was totally unaware if anything I'd done was any good, so hard had I been focussing on just getting all of it done. Luckily one of the shoots produced the pic above, for the batshit crazy Bluestockings night, which people seem to like, so phew.

The next couple of weeks get - if anything - more hectic. I'm off to Belgium for a one night gig on Sunday, then have pretty much something every night next week, which will culminate in a technical rehearsal for a telly thing that I will be allowed to tell you about in a couple of weeks. Relax, it's not exciting, it's ITV.

Then there's the stuff that the professional side of my brain says I should tell you about, namely, that tickets have gone on sale for my 2011 Edinburgh festival show -"MAT RICARDO: THREE BALLS AND A NEW SUIT".

I'm delighted to have my show produced by Blond Ambition & O'Connor Ents, and I'm really looking forward to getting back into it, and into the associated nutso world of the Edinburgh festival.

It's largely the same show as last year with the following differences:

(1) 12% new material, mainly about Britain's Got Talent
(2) At least one new trick
(3) An actual new suit
(4) The venue is better, and gorgeous
(5) Hardly anyone actually saw it last year, so shut up

You can buy tickets here
There's a gorgeous little preview write-up that made me all teary, here
And there's a facebook group thing here

Please come, obviously.

I know I'm whinging about the busyness, but really, seriously, I couldn't be happier. Right now things seem to be dropping into place better than they ever have before, and this brings with it terror and fear and self-questioning, but also happiness and progress and creation. So, basically what I'm saying is, Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Well that was an interesting night

2011-05-05T19:52:00.000-07:00

Lovely show for Bete Noire at Madame JoJo's, on a stacked bill consisting of Ophelia Bitz, Tempest Rose, Holly Penfield and me. Great crowd and top-class backstage gossiping. By the way: Bitz + Rose = the dream team of snark. Fact.

Then off I trundled to catch my train back to deepest South London. All goes fine until halfway between Waterloo East and London Bridge. The train stops. All the lights go out. And we wait there, unmoving. For the best part of an hour. Every so often a driver or guard hurries up the train looking increasingly fraught, soon joined by people in high visibility vests with flashlights wandering around outside on the tracks. It becomes apparent that there is perhaps more to this than a simple technical failiure.

And there is. Someone - we can only presume a drunk someone - decided that rather than wait for the next connecting train from Waterloo East to London Bridge, they would just walk off the end of the platform, along the trackside, and get there on foot. Horrifically and predictably, our train struck them.

And there we sit, for another hour at least, pushed hard into the bad seating with the cold realisation that those men with the flashlights outside are poking around in the undercarriage directly beneath us in search of signs of life. I'm trying to regulate my breathing as the reason for the driver's fraught expression is tragically clear. He makes the occasional announcement, his voice noticeably shaking and weak.

I sit in silence, in forced contemplation, staring deliberately at nothing. As does the woman sat in front of me. Blank faces with a little less colour than usual. Natural. But others are not the same, it seems. The guy sat accross the aisle from me plays his music loudly, drums on the seat back, whistles, sings along to his ipod. He takes a phone call "Yo", he shouts, "No, I'm still stuck on this fucking train. Probably someone's had a heart attack or topped themselves. Fuck. I've had a 12 hour shift. I wanna go home". I had him pegged as a twat from the moment I sat down, but this takes swaggering douchbaggery to a new level. For an hour at least he is like this, drumming, playing music, sighing loudly, talking to himself. I work hard to not grind my teeth.

After about two hours, an announcement - we're all to gather at the rear of the train where we'll get off and walk back along the track to Waterloo East. As we get to our feet, he starts swearing at the announcement. The woman who was sitting in front of me leans in and says, firmly, "Someone's died". This stops him in his tracks. I take the chance to back her up, and add "Which means, you're not the most important thing here, so chill". He shuts up. The woman looks at me, "Been wanting to say that for hours!", she says. "Innit", I reply. I've found a friend.

We walk along the bumpy dark track together, introduce ourselves, discover that we live closeby each other and should thus share a taxi home. Bethann works on lighting at Phantom Of The Opera and is, like pretty much every female theatre tech I've ever worked with, small, blonde, tough-looking and great. As we track-walk, she admits that this is something she's always secretly wanted to do. She's right - it's a chance to look at a part of London from a slightly unique perspective - similar to the way you see it every day, but not quite. Shame it has to be in these circumstances though. Unpleasant privilege.

People are still complaining, trying to question the simple instructions given by the police on the scene. Like they know better. Like they've done this before. At one point, for whatever good it does, I say "I think it's important to remember that we're the least important people here".

Finally we're out of the station and we get our taxi. We depressurise during the journey, chatting about how best to enhance West End shows (Our solution: Ninjas) and confirming with each other our suspicion that we were the only decent people on the whole train. Then, as the taxi pulls up outside my house, he hits the kerb and blows a tire. We look at each other with disbelieving frozen grins. We're cursed. Bethann gets another taxi and I go home.

Tonight started great and ended ok, but jesus, there was some horrid stuff in the middle.

Spaceman George

2011-05-04T09:31:00.000-07:00

Press image photoshoot with George Fuller - a clown, acrobat and slack-rope walker. Originally from Chicago, he's been a solid part of the UK scene for years now, having just finished up a season with No Fit State Circus. I first met him through the street performing circuit, and in a world populated mainly by brash showmen, George's stuff struck me as being lovely - gentle, whimsical and sweet.

His latest project involves a man so lonely and disillusioned with people in general that he decides the only reasonable option is to build a rocketship and a spacesuit and go live on the moon. (You can see a little video of some of this show here) - something we can all sometimes relate to, no?

The look of his costume and props is kinda deliberately homebrew-y and steampunk-y so I thought the look of these images - muddied up, grainy and faded - suited the character and show - almost like they were tattered pictures found in the back of an antique cupboard inherited from a great-grandmother, odd and unexplainable.

Also - who knew putting a flashgun inside the helmet would work so perfectly?

Oz

2011-04-28T10:56:00.001-07:00

I went to Fremantle, Western Australia for five days. There are some photographs and here are some thoughts.

Day one/two/god knows what day it is

The first leg of my trip here took me from London to Singapore. Slept pretty much all the way. two hours to kill in Singapore airport was made more pleasant by it being a "no noise" airport - no announcements, no music, just calm placid silence. that's doing it right. Then the (comparatively) short journey on to Perth, which was only un-enhanced by the lovely retired Serbian man sitting next to me and pretty much farting continuously. Got to the point where I could feel them in the back of my throat. Magnificent.

Picked up at the airport by fellow street performer Lee Hayes and driven to my accommodation. Discovering your digs at a new festival is always a risky gambit - I've had some stinkers. I once arrived at my hotel room at a gig in Belgium to find a clown in my bed, in full make up and costume, big shoes and everything. Not ideal. This one, though, is a peach. I'm in an apartment at the Notre Dame University of Arts and Sciences - all dark heavy old wood and thick carpet. On the door of my room is a sign that says "The Studio". Like.

I manage to catch a few hours sleep, then after a quick workout, I go off for a little explore. It’s a rather nice town, but almost everything is closed. I find a chemist that isn’t and ask the friendly Chinese man behind the counter if anything is open. "Everything closed" he says "Easter is a very big deal here. Everything closed, because, you know, Easter and stuff" and he screws his face up in a mixture of distain and annoyance. I feel ya, bro. Stupid Jesus.

Then on to meet Dave, my sometimes double act partner, and his family for a lovely lunch and then back to his apartment where we go out onto the balcony and run through our show script. We haven't done it for about 6 months, so it's rusty, but fun. In fact, I think this is one of my favourite things - me and Dave bumbling through our show, forgetting things and then remembering bits that we had forgotten make us laugh. Giggling at each other while we navigate to the end like someone returning to a hometown they haven't been to since they were a kid and slowly remembering how to get to their old house. Also, our rehearsal gathers a small crowd of two people who watch us from the car park below our balcony. Good sign.

Ok, let’s go with Day two

Last night I managed to get two hours sleep total. An hour from about 10.30pm and then another hour starting from about 7am. The rest of the night was spent either trying to sleep and failing, or giving up trying to fight the jetlag and giving into my shiny-eyed awake-ness and doing stuff. I watched a movie, did some writing and pretty much read a whole book. Thus, later this morning when I arrived, clad in tuxedo and sunscreen, for my first show, it was just the coca-cola and loud iPod that was keeping me alert. The first show went fine, on a stage underneath a gorgeous big fig tree that Dave took delight in telling me probably held dozens of spiders that would get hot and start falling on me during the show. A gorgeous little thing happened in the second show which made me grin for hours afterwards: As we were getting prepped before the show, I noticed a little girl - maybe 9 or 10, slightly geeky, with glasses, sitting in the front row of our audience waiting for us to start, engrossed in a massive book. I chatted to her, and wanted to know what she was reading - expecting some variant on the popular teen Mormon vampire malarkey. But no. Proudly she showed me: The Complete Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse. Awesome. I named her my favourite Australian audience member and found it hard to stop going on about how great she was.

Day 3

The jetlag is still kicking my ass, so although I went to bed at a respectable 11pm, I was wide awake at 4.30am. Deciding that there was little point in trying to fight it, I got up, got dressed and went out to walk along the coast and take photos of the sunrise over the beach. So I wandered around in the warm humid darkness of the early hours, watched some white middle class religious types park their cars at the edge of the beach and leave the headlights on so they could set up their little picnic table by the waters edge and get going with - I'm guessing - some kind of baptism shtick. Then I climbed the steps up the cliff to the old maritime lookout point, complete with little cannon pointing out to sea. I toyed with trying to shift the cannon over to point at the Christians but thought better of it. From that high up, there was a brilliant view into town, overlooking the street that my apartment is on, a long wide boulevard that leads in one straight line from the beach into the centre of town. As the pink tinged light broke over the horizon it flooded the street with an even bright clean light, and that, combined with the complete lack of any other people, made it all look..fake. Like a theme park street before the gates have opened, or one of those models of what the town will look like once it's built. Wide, clean, perfectly lit, empty and odd.

Down the stairs on the other side, and then as I walked up the street, underneath the gorgeous wrought iron balconies that make this part of town look like New Orleans, it suddenly, and massively, rained. From nowhere, the warm humid morning gave birth to the heavy downpour of fat raindrops. The dusty streets were made shiny, and the thick air was made clear. Gorgeous. Also – wet Christians.

Back to my apartment for a quick shower, and then out to meet my old friend Sharon for breakfast. Hadn't seen Sharon for the best part of a year, so it was great to catch up. As I've said before, one of the crappy things about this job is that most of my friends live in different parts of the world, but one of the great things is getting a gig somewhere crazy like this, and then looking at the festival website to see which of my friends will also be there to hang out with. Breakfast, then a frenzied and over-competitive 2-player game of Galaga in the local juice bar, which she - unbelievably - won.

Back to the digs, into costume, and off to the first show. There's been a drought here - no rain at all for three months, as people keep telling me. No problem - all it takes is a street performer to fly in from London, and there's your rain. Show called off. Boo. Still, at least we have a second show on one of the best pitches later. I get up there early to see the end of Sharons show - which, if you ever get the chance, you should see, because it's very silly. Then it's time for us to go on, aaaaand here's the rain again. Are you kidding me? Oh well, day gets written off. But really, if you've seen a sunrise over a beach, played videogames with a lovely old friend, and had frozen lemonade grantia (as I did), then it's not really a write-off, is it?

Day 4

Gorgeous sunny day with a cloudless sky that is almost so blue as to be taking the piss. It's Anzac day, which is the same as the UK's remembrance Sunday, so no shows until after 1pm, when the business of being sombre and respectful can give way to a bunch of monkeys in second hand suits shouting at tourists. It's what they fought for.

Our first show is at outside the local prison. It stopped being a working nick in the early 90's and has been a tourist attraction ever since, and today every tour is sold out in advance. It was, according to the nice fellow who works there, one of the most feared maximum security prisons in Australia. The early 90's isn't too long ago, so they've had past inhabitants of the prison sign up for tours, break away half way through, and attempt to set fire to the place. There's nothing like a spot of well-planned revenge.

Second show is in the high street and is a hard slog, as the sun is high in the sky and right in our faces. Audience sits in the shade, and we take it like men. Better we can't see what we're doing, than they can't see what we're doing.

The evening is balmy so we all sit around a big green plastic table outside a cafe and eat Chinese food. I take in the scene and remind myself - in as non-schmaltzy a way as possible - what a nice way to earn a living this is. Chewing on a spring roll as I look around the table - there's Dave and his family, then Leapin' Louie who does a cowboy act, then two Frenchmen who wander around the streets with televisions where their heads should be, and then Beth, who seems to do a bit of everything from playing a double bass to juggling to arial work. At the head of the table, there's Brendan who is responsible for flying me out here - this alone would be a good start to making me like him, but it just so happens that he's also a fine fellow. As the night starts to get a little chillier, we change location for a bar that Beth knows, and have a couple of drinks before going back to our respective apartments, or in Beth’s case, a garage. Don't ask.

Day 5

I start the day meeting Sharon for breakfast on the beach. There's a cafe round the corner from my apartment, so we load up on food and go sit in the shade and chat. As a way to start the day, a fried egg sandwich while gazing at the surf and chatting to a friend you only see about once a year, isn't bad at all. Then into town for coffee with Julio, kingpin of the USA Break dancers. Julio is big, both literally and figuratively, and lovely company - all positive vibes, handshakes and hugs. I'm from England, he's from The Bronx, we first met years ago in Toronto, and here we are sitting outside a cafe in Western Australia. He notices that my phone has a skin that has a picture of an old school beat box on it. Looking closely, he identifies the make and model. "Double cassette with high speed dubbing, two speakers either side. Nice sound", He says. Julio has been involved in hip hop and break dancing since it first got big in New York in the early 80's. Apparently, he has the same model beat box in his collection.

More shows, more sun, more heat, more work, more sweat and more fun. Gelato in between the shows to keep the energy up, and then we're done. Quick chat with Lucky Rich, officially the worlds most tattooed man, and his very sweet wife Alexis. I've known him since before he even thought about getting inked, and it's true to say that in the past he used to carry himself with an unhealthy dose of attitude and often unpleasantness, but these days is - and I hope he doesn't mind me saying this - surprisingly sweet and intelligent company. It must be strange being always on display, as he inevitably is, and I can imagine how it would create a very defensive mindset, and he certainly used to have that, but in the time I've spent with him this week he's been laid back and cool. Love of a good woman does magical things.

Day 6

A quick banana muffin, and then off to the bank with Dave to cash in our coins. Then it’s time to say goodbyes as I jump in the van with Swedish football juggler Victor, and the Frenchmen with TVs for heads. Victor is looking the worst for wear after last night’s end of festival party. “I was being so well behaved for most of the festival”, he says in his comedy-but-real Swedish accent, “Then last night..I don’t know Mat..I don’t know what happened..Beer became Vodka and Vodka became Champagne..and Champagne became Champagne with Red Bull..”, “Champagne with Red Bull?”, I say. “I was getting tired!”, he replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Then I was naked in the street and there were two women and another man there. Also naked. I don’t know who they were..”, and he trails off into moans of deep internal pain.

Then I’m checking in, then I’m en route to Singapore watching a documentary about Sex Robots, then I’m having a pizza in Singapore airport, then I’m drifting in and out of sleep as I jet towards London, then I’m getting my suitcase, then I’m on the tube, and now I’ve come to a stop in front of my desk at home. Ruby heels clicked. No place like it

Abi and her dirty, dirty mouth

2011-04-18T15:44:00.001-07:00

Up at the crack of dawn this morning to vacate my room in Scarborough (Where I had been gigging the night before) and on the first train back to London to get straight into a headshot shoot for comedy, cabaret and circus performer Abi Collins. Headshots are tricky - they need to be fairly neutral, but not bland. To show a truthful record of what the person looks like, while hopefully catching a tiny little glimmer of their personality. They can't be too stylish, or too of anything really - because what you're selling is the ability of the performer to be castable in as many roles as possible, so you can't risk being too much of any one thing. There's a definite knack to them.

After a few different set-ups and angles, we found that the best way for Abi to relax her face and look as much like a neutral version of Abi as possible (and if you know Abi, you'll understand the ridiculous idea of a neutral version of her..) was for her to slowly repeat the words "Blow job" over and over. It put her mouth into a relaxed shape, and made her nearly giggle every time, so gave a little sparkle to her eyes. Either that, or she just liked saying it. Possibly both.

The accompaying pic isn't one of the headshots, but rather a moment caught while she was giggling at her own foul-mouth.

Day of errands tomorrow, then off to Australia on Wednesday. I'm there for a long weekend. Crazy, huh? But such is the life of a performer. Now sure how much I'll be able to blog while over there - I'll try, but if I can't, then I feel confident I'll return with pictures and stories to tell.

Fifi Femelle at the gym

2011-04-06T06:31:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's another entry in the "Showgirls in mundane locations" project. This time, the excellent Fifi Femelle, head honcho of Cabaret Rouge, resident dancing girls at the glorious Wam Bam Club, where I am lucky enough to be a regular performer. Big thanks to Richard at Gymbox for letting me shoot there.

As I mentioned in a previous post, the more I do this project, the more the locations seem to be fitting the models. I approached Miss Femelle to do this set-up without any knowledge that in her real life, she is, in fact, a personal trainer at a gym.

The top image is the one that'll go into the project, but I kinda liked the other two as well, so I include them here so you can see some of the other ideas we tried. I snuck a little wirelessly triggered speedlite onto the console of the machine she was on, which I hoped would light her face and costume, and make her kinda stand out and glow a little bit in the dark gym. I really like the way the feathers on her headress are all blurry in the top pic - this is due to the fact that the treadmill was moving and she was actually running. I was happy to have her pretend to run in a static pose, but she suggested that we get the machine going, and she was clearly right. Always good to work with models who have better ideas than you!

Phoning it in

2011-04-04T11:24:00.000-07:00

A handful of pictures taken using my phone's camera over the last few months. I try to take the proper camera wherever I go, but sometimes (usually when I'm performing) it's impractical to pack it along with all the stupid luggage that my act needs. So recently I've started using the phone more and more (It's an HTC Desire, and I use the stock camera app, and "Vingette" which has a nice Ilford b&w process). It's not a spectacularly great camera, but it's tiny and always in my pocket, so more and more I've found that if you're careful, and lucky, you can create some rather nice, intimate images.

Also, in other news: As you may have noticed, I'm updating the blog lots recently. I've cut down on a few places online where I do things in order to focus more on the blog, so the plan is for there to be much more stuff being posted here than there has been in the recent past. So keep checking back, leaving comments, and letting me know if I'm being good, or talking shit. I know you will!

Mysti Vine in a mini market

2011-04-03T06:21:00.000-07:00

The mini market right next door to my flat, in fact, run by a lovely Indian family who let me shoot there in return for shooting some pictures of their oldest son to be sent to India and evaluated by his prospective bride. Gotta love skillswaps. Although if it doesn't work out, I'll feel somehow responsible.

This is, of course, another in the "Showgirls in Mundane Locations" project, and one of the simplest and quickest shoots I've done for it. Mysti Vine, if you're unfamiliar, is a very silly comedy burlesque performer who I had the pleasure of sharing a bill with a few weeks ago. This is one of two costumes she uses in her act, the other one you'll have to see for yourself. It's quite the showstopper. She is also Canadian, which puts her a few rungs up before we've even started, seeing as I'm quite the fan of the land of Kraft Dinner, fudgecicles and The Kids In The Hall.

Eclair!

2011-03-28T01:44:00.000-07:00

Lovely day in Brighton mooching around, shopping and eating, topped off by a quick shoot with the frankly delightful Jenny Eclair back stage at the Komedia. We'd never really met before, although I have a sneaking suspicion we may have shared a comedy club bill somewhere in the late 80's, but she was ridiculously friendly, enthusiastic and open to my stupid idea of getting her to hold a childs toy purse I had bought in Forest Hill.

At one point she peered at the screen on the back of the camera to see what the shots looked like and said "oh look, I'm sweet". She certainly is.

Marie Antoinette in East London

2011-03-25T02:14:00.000-07:00

Delightful afternoon in East London being fed champagne, listening to vintage rockabilly and shooting images of burlesque performer Emerald Fontaine for her Marie Antoinette act. Excellent makeup and nail work by Hula Nails.

Really fun, relaxed shoot. Miss Fontaine takes her stuff seriously, as everyone should, and had planned everything to down to the last cupcake, which meant that I could relax and concentrate on the images - which I'm really happy with.

Bookshop Bunny

2011-03-21T08:59:00.001-07:00

Another in my ongoing project "Showgirls in mundane locations" brings us the mighty Beatrix Von Bourbon in a second hand bookshop.

The more I work on this project, the more it seems to mutate slightly. It started as a jokey way to put glamourous performers in dull places for simple witty shots, and almost immediately became a commentary on how performers see themselves, and how being cool, sexy and in a spotlight sits with the more boring aspects of life that everyone does on a daily basis.

But now it's changing again - the more I start to think about matching performers to locations, the more those locations seem to be fitting the performer and showing a little bit more of them. Beatrix, for example, is very well read and prides herself - correctly - on being able to get all academic on your ass about a variety of topics. Pity the fool who engages her about the gender politics of her chosen profession. So Housemans bookshop - "London's premier radical bookshop" - with it's shelves heaving under the weight of dog-eared old copies of Greer, Dworkin, et al, seemed perfect. Lovely people too.

bunny ears and copy of Satre: Model's own.

Alex

2011-03-20T13:37:00.000-07:00

Studio shoot with Alex and Jim to create some promotional images for their double act "the Others".. Got this shot of Alex doing his umbrella/moustache schtick. He's been doing it for years, but never seen what it actually looked like. When I showed him he giggled for ages. Win.

Bluestockings!

2011-03-14T04:06:00.001-07:00

Bunch of half naked women in my studio, and they brought cake!
Fun shoot for some promo images for the mighty Night of the Blue Stockings with Tricity Vogue, Abi Collins, Audacity Chutzpah and Rhiann Kennedy. Fine and crazy women, all.
For the top shot, we wanted to pastiche Polly Rae's Hurly Burly show poster which is all over the underground here in London at the moment. Hope she doesn't mind.

Collected reviews of the London run of "MAT RICARDO: THREE BALLS AND A GOOD SUIT"

2011-03-08T04:28:00.000-08:00

Quick collection of the reviews for my March 2011 London run.

"There aren't many jugglers around who'd warrant a whole show of their own but Mat Ricardo is a bit special. With technical skills out the wazoo, Ricardo can make you gasp - but more than that, he's got wit, charm and genuine personal engagement. Catch him."
Critics Choice Time Out London

"Audiences have learned to see juggling as a peripheral circus attraction – the fringe of the fringe, the crud of cabaret, the side of the sideshow. It takes more than dexterity to bring this timeless art to the forefront. It takes dazzling showmanship, spot-on comic timing and bucket loads of style. It takes Mat Ricardo.

The self-styled “gentleman juggler” has revised and updated his five-star one-man-act Fringe hit into a relentless hour of hilarious, jaw-dropping fun. Ricardo both revives and revamps the all-but-forgotten music hall genre of gentleman jugglers, the turn-of-the-century vaudevillians who set themselves apart from their gaudy circus counterparts by dressing up and using goblets, bottles and other assorted bar paraphernalia as props.

Like magic, fire-eating or any other physical stunt, juggling is seldom about the acrobatic feats. It’s how you dress it that makes the act seductive, and Three Balls and a Good Suit fully excels in that respect. Ricardo’s smooth wit drives the show at full speed, teasing the audience with swift anecdotes of a two-decade career spanning from street performances in Covent Garden to transatlantic cruise gigs. If you’ve ever wondered how jugglers get their death-defying arsenals past airport security checks, what upgrades the Internet has introduced to the art of heckling or why jugglers have never won Britain’s Got Talent, you’ll be both amused and outraged by the answers.

The actual tricks are as stunning for their mastery as for their ingenious conception. The only number with a soundtrack in the show (a nimble routine whose intimate subtlety “wouldn’t last five minutes on the streets”) sees Ricardo launching into an effortless, mesmerizing dance with a walking stick, his hat and an oversized cartoonish cigar to the suave crooner jazz of Tom Waits’s New Coat of Paint. Other times, the artist masterfully builds up the crowd’s anticipation with comic faux-blunders, as in the juggling-stripping routine where he proves taking off your coat can be more difficult than keeping three balls in the air. One of the most inventive gags of the show features Ricardo simulating a hidden magnet at the base of metal trays and kettles, playing on audience expectations with teasing simplicity. The spirited inversion is pure post-modern prestidigitation.

The show’s climax couldn’t possibly be other than his already classic cigar box-balancing act, where Ricardo defies gravity (“effectively overwrites it” would be more accurate) by piling up a glass of wine and said boxes on his trademark fat cigar. The mindboggling stunt is a feat of no less than perfect symmetry, of the sort that makes the impossible look easy, and has become a common fixture in cabaret bills throughout London. Combining straightforward, no-frills mechanics with his insouciant presentation, the number is a surefire popular favorite, eliciting uproarious applause with every performance.

Some of Ricardo’s autobiographical soliloquies attempt to provide a dramatic counterpoint to his otherwise uninterrupted acerbic frolicking, labouring on his difficult choices when balancing an essentially itinerant trade with family life. Those, however, are neither lengthy nor developed enough to produce striking poignancy. A much more moving pathos arises from his heartfelt defense of street theatre as the most honest art form he knows (“an international industry of self-employed, taxpaying professionals”). Defending with unregretful nostalgia the merciless arena where he made his bones, the vaudevillian draws upon his own experiences as well as the biography of past greats of the genre like W.C. Fields or the legendary Enrico Rastelli, arguably the only juggler to ever have been honoured with a public statue and a Vanity Fair obituary.

You’ll struggle to find an hour more tightly packed with cunning humour and spellbinding amusement. Three Balls and a Good Suit is more fun than most comedy shows, and certainly smells better than any circus I’ve been to. Mat Ricardo reportedly aims to show audiences something they’ve never seen before, but what does he know – this concise tour de force in spectacle is irrefutably best suited for repeated viewing."

Erotic Review Magazine

"Mat Ricardo is a world-class gentleman juggler. He has performed on three continents, he has headlined variety shows and he spent a month hanging out in Tokyo with the man who played Monkey in Monkey.

For a few nights at the Etcetera Theatre, Ricardo is presenting his one-man show, Three Balls And A Good Suit (Tales From The Life Of A Jaded Novelty Act). He starts by taking us back to his schooldays in Enfield where, given the career choice of being a social worker or an undertaker, Ricardo went with a third option: busking. He describes the life of a busker, seeing it an amazing business model which shouldn’t work but it does; if it was pitched on Dragon’s Den, “they would literally be queuing up to punch you in the cock.”

There’s no doubting Ricardo’s talent as a juggler or a comedian. Like famed juggler Enrico Rastelli, Ricardo concentrates his well-honed skills on only a few props – balls, cigar boxes, throwing knives – but conjures some fantastic entertainment from them. If you think this is hyperbole, consider this -every year, Britain’s Got Talent writes to him inviting him on and every year he declines gracefully: “I have no desire to be fodder in your shiny-floored light entertainment slaughterhouse.”

Even when a trick goes slightly wrong, Ricardo covers with a ready gag and a smile – damn it, this man is more likeable than an unexpected lottery win. And that’s his forte: whether he is describing sexual escapades on a cruise ship, the ultimate heckle or a case of mistaken identity with a Department of Homeland Security officer, he carries us with him as assuredly as any stand-up we’ve seen. Through this show, Ricardo wants to be able to give up the variety shows, the cruise ships and the travel and spend more time with his wife, his home and his cat. We wish him all the best with that."

The Londonist

Lisa Carrodus

2011-03-08T04:09:00.001-08:00

Shot these portraits of the great and mighty Lisa Carrodus, with brilliant airbrush make-up by Bellviso. Wanted to update the classic "Rosie The Riveter" shot, and after struggling with the right flash set-up, we just used natural light and I think it came out pretty good.

Lisa is, of course, completely awesome and delightful. Fun fact: Google her name, and the first auto-suggest you get is "Lisa Carrodus Biceps". That's all you need to know, right there!

Thank You

2011-03-08T03:28:00.000-08:00

Well that was a hectic few weeks.

A few weeks ago, after a session with my therapist in which we talked about how best to handle the inevitable unpredictability of life, I came home to find a letter from our landlords telling us they wanted us out so they could sell our flat. I also had, on my desk, barely a half page of written notes that made up all I could remember from last years Edinburgh show, that I had agreed to re-write and put on in London. Fast forward to now, and the weekend in which I played my one man show to full houses was the same weekend in which we finally managed to buy the flat they tried to throw us out of. Epic win, as the kids say.

So, I need to thank some people.

Obviously, Lesley, for doing most of the heavy mental lifting mortgage-wise, while I held onto my head with both hands shouting "it's full of bees!", and for being, y'know, generally great, and making killer soups and roast dinners and not going mad.

Kirsty, who was technically my sound and lights lady, but also very quickly filled the role of sidekick. I spend most of time working alone, so it was great to have someone around to annoy and buy cakes for. Also, her Lady Di act is going to slay you.

CJ, Franco, Ben at Time Out, and everyone who gave me nice reviews and helped bring people's attention to the show - it means a lot. As a juggler, it's hard enough to get taken seriously or noticed at all, but you've all been very generous with your praise. Expect to see every last drop wrung out of your quotes!

And, everyone else.. It strikes me that the best part about doing a London run of one's own show is having a reason to invite a bunch of friends to drink downstairs in the pub with you afterwards. Every night I looked around and saw pockets of my friends from the various little worlds in which I live - there's a bunch of street performers I've known since the 80s, over there are some crazy cool burlesquers, here's a RADA trained writer/director/genius etc. A certain very well-known TV writer also came, which meant an awful lot. Nice to be able to do something that makes him laugh rather than the usual other way around.

I've had a bunch of conversations with the lonely teenage me (see pic at top of page) over the last few weeks. He'd be amazed at what my life has become, and so am I.

So, thanks everyone. I take none of this for granted, and enjoy every moment.

Yes, and.

Cold Call

2011-02-01T12:47:00.000-08:00

Just got the best cold call ever. Here we go. Word for word:

Phone: ring ring ring ring

Me: Hello

Man: Hello. Is that the man of the house?

(At this point I detect the twin clues of an Indian accent and an outdated conception of gender roles, and correctly surmise that someone is trying to sell/scam me)

Me: Um. Yes?

Man: Hello. I am from the lifestyle research laboratory. Would you be willing to take a survey about your lifestyle? It will take only a minute and will help people.

Me: Sure.

Man: Ok, first, will you tell me your complete postcode and house number?

Me: No.

Man: What?

Me: No.

Man: (suddenly very angry) You think you are a funny? You think you are a funny? you should be a clown, yes? You should be a clown on stage.

Me: I am. That's exactly what I do.

Man: You. What? You. (He hangs up)

I cannot tell you how much pleasure this gave me.

2011-02-01T04:38:00.000-08:00

Yes. I'm doing a slightly new version of my critically acclaimed (and publicly ignored) 2010 Edinburgh show at the Etcetera Theatre, in Camden, London. March 3rd - 6th. All the good stuff from the show, plus 15% new material! (mainly a rant about Britains Got Talent..)

Please come, and please book your tickets in advance as it's a small venue, so likely to sell out.

If you're unfamiliar with my show, or me in general then you can find out more about me here, here and more about the show in the reviews below..

Thanks - hope to see you there!

Reviews for "Mat Ricardo: Three Balls and a Good Suit"

"Five stars for a juggler? I assure you, no mistake. And the prejudice which makes such acclaim seem surprising is just one theme of this wryly reflective show, which mixes envy-inspiring physical skill with a well-told, deeply personal tale.

There’s no shortage of street performance in Edinburgh just now – but up close and personable, Ricardo demonstrates a subtlety of wit and technique which just wouldn’t work among the mayhem of the Royal Mile. In this intimate venue with a captive crowd, there’s no need to climb a ladder and juggle a chainsaw; but his audience gasped just as loudly when he bounced a teacup off his shoulder, landing it neat and unbroken back on the tray. He throws cigar boxes around, whips tablecloths away, and balances this and that on his nose. It’s impressive, it’s often hilarious… and if it were all he did, it would still be a fine way to spend an hour.

But – while you’ll surely be impressed by his mastery of his craft – that’s not what makes this show. No, its true strength lies in its storytelling, looking back over a life spent perfecting this least-understood physical art. Like all street performers, Ricardo knows how to keep a patter going – and his travels have given him plenty of material to share. In what other context could you name-drop the Krankees, before launching into a story about an escapologist being carted away? Be warned, though: while it might sound like this is a good show to take the kids to, both the language and content are distinctly for grown-ups.

And there’s something else grown-up about the monologue. It’s infused with a bittersweet sadness – a reflection on a career which, as it grew more successful, demanded more and more time away from the things which make life truly worthwhile. You’re a fool if you believe every anecdote you hear in this show, but the darker parts of Ricardo’s story must surely be for real. It’s disarmingly candid and, at times, painfully poignant – but like the showman he is, Ricardo always has a joke standing by to defuse the tension and lift the mood.

When he performs, Ricardo says, he has just one aim: to send the audience away saying there’d been something in his show they’d never seen before. Well, you know what? It worked. For the first time, I looked at a juggler and saw what he really is: a skilful and committed artisan, the equal of any of the high-falutin’ actors I’ll rub shoulders with this Fringe. And the bonus of an hour spent with Ricardo? I laughed myself silly too."
FringGuru.com

"A pleasant Tuesday night out, and not all of it spent at the Pleasance; part pleasure, part work (although the work was unpaid, and pleasurable). At 7.30, having shared fatigue around the kitchen table with Richard Herring, I rolled up at the Three Sisters on Cowgate to see gentleman juggler and AIOTM photographer Mat Ricardo recount his life in street performing and variety, illustrated with some truly astounding feats, many of which I’ve seen, filmed, but never up close like this.

His show Three Balls And A Good Suit is quite a change for him, as it involves more talking and less throwing things up in the air. But the linking passages about his life on the cruise ships (“trapped on a floating prison with two and a half thousand cunts”) and on the cobbles of Covent Garden – as well as hanging out with Monkey off of Monkey in Tokyo and appearing on the bottom of the bill with Bradley Walsh and the Krankies – are delivered with panache and good humour. The space he’s in is clearly way too low-ceilinged for a juggling act, but Mat adapts to survive, and occasionally steps offstage so as to create an extra few inches. After 20 years in the trade, his juggling is predictably excellent. A small audience (“quality not quantity”) couldn’t have been more responsive, clapping and whooping and gasping on cue. Some of this stuff is mind-blowing, not least the cigar box routine, and Mat’s piece de resistance – which he rightly saves for the end – removing a tablecloth and, uniquely, putting it back on, without unsettling a single cup or plate."
Andrew Collins
WhereDidItAllGoRight.com

"The gentleman juggler may not be a common character here in the 21st century, but the form is most certainly not dead. Mat Ricardo in Three Balls and a Good Suit seeks to emulate the great W.C. Fields, along with a class of jugglers who were not circus performers, daredevils or freaks, but gentleman. They entertained, told stories with bravado and class, and, yes, did a trick or two along the way. I can’t say how Ricardo stacks up to Fields, et al, but his stories ring with bravado and his juggling tricks are impressive with a touch of class. While he tells the story of how his career as a juggler has adversely affected his personal life, he weaves a variety of tricks. He claims to be the only one who 'puts the tablecloth back on', and, indeed, he does. He also executes a delightful and rarely performed hat and cane act that he says is 'too subtle for street performance'. Lucky for us, it works beautifully in a dimly-lit bar.

Had I paid a reasonable admission, I would have been satisfied and charmed. That it was a free fringe show made it feel more like a diamond in the rough. Even when performing more typical juggling acts like balancing cigar boxes (we learn not to call them bricks), Ricardo adds something a little less ordinary, and a little classier. In this instance, you’ll want to keep your eyes on the wine glass."
Ezra LeBank
Total Theatre

Its that time of year again...

2010-10-14T08:27:00.000-07:00

Yes, the time of every year when I get an email from some poor little researcher who has been told to source some acts for the upcoming season of the costcutter of light entertainment: Britain's Got Talent.

Yes. Every year they ask. Every year I tell them to go away, and every next year they ask again.

For context, here's what I got a couple of years ago:

Hi Mat,

I hope you are well. I have just seen your website and watched videos on your amazing act, and therefore thought I would let you know, in the hope that you might want to apply, that ITV1's hit entertainment show, 'Britain's Got Talent', is back for a third series and this time it's bigger than ever!

Hosted by Ant and Dec; the show gives entertainers the opportunity to showcase their talents in front of a panel of three of the most influential people in the industry: Amanda Holden, Piers Morgan and Simon Cowell. The show is open to absolutely anyone – any talent, any age - simple as that! Over the past two years we've had a huge variety of acts apply including comedians, ventriloquists, dancers, magicians, acrobats and animal acts.

The last series of Britain’s Got Talent was watched by nearly 15 million viewers and is hailed as one of the most successful talent shows of this century giving many acts some great exposure, an amazing platform to launch from as well as turning some acts international! We are now back with our brand new third series and we’re looking for a brand new winner. Auditions have already began and we are still receiving thousands of applications every week. So why not come and audition and show Britain what YOU have to offer. We are especially keen this year to make sure that we have the best variety talent in Britain on the show and from what I have read about you, you are one of the best.

Many thanks for your time, and the best of British to you,

Fairly nice, polite email. Although I take issue with the use of the CAPS. Also notice that they mention the huge variety of acts that they've had apply. Not win. Apply. Because we all know that only a singer or dancer will win because Simon Cowell needs to have music royalties coming off the back of the show. (Little known fact - the dancers that get to the late stages of the show get given Cowell-owned music to dance to. It's picked for them.)

Anyway, so here's my reply:

Hi,

Thanks for the interest. Whenever a new season of your show comes
around I get an email like this, regular as clockwork!

I'm not interested. If I'm being honest I find the idea of my life's
work being judged by people like Piers Morgan who know and care
nothing about the genre in which I work, but who are simply
interested in furthering their own shallow media profile, just
about the most uninteresting and unpleasant proposition I
can imagine. I wish that there were variety shows on television,
like the ones I have performed in across Europe and Asia, but
there are not.

All we have are tacky, predictably exploitative talent shows
which cheapen everyone involved, and variety in general.

Also, I'm simply too busy. I work pretty much constantly,
sometimes alongside previous winners of America's got talent,
ironically. They won their place, I earned mine, but we all
ended up at about the same level of success. I'm happy with that.

I look forward to getting another email from someone on your
staff around this time next year, when I can respond in a
similarly snarky manner.

And so it goes on every year - they email me, I tell them to get lost in a way that is, at least, entertaining for me. It's as close as the show gets to being entertaining for me.

Which brings us to this years' email:

This email is confidential and may well also be legally privileged.
If you have received this email in error, you are in notice of its status.
Please notify the sender immediately by reply e-mail and then delete
this message from your system. Please do not copy or use it for any
purposes, or disclose its contents to any other person: to do so
could be a breach of confidence.
Thank you for your co-operation.

Any views expressed in this message are those of the individual
sender and may not necessarily reflect the views of The RTL Group
or its associated companies.

I've taken out the researchers name, but yeah, that's the whole email I got from them. Completely blank except for the legal notice at the bottom of the page. Which I am ignoring.

So I sent them back a blank email of my own, and then got this:

Hi Mat,

Sorry about the blank emai, I am currently working on Britain's Got Talent. We will be holding auditions in Manchester towards the end of October and carrying on around the UK until the middle of December. I just wondered if you would like to apply for the show. I stumbled accross your website and you are exactly what the judges are looking for this year.

It would be brilliant if you would give me a call on the number below to chat about it and I can let you know about the forthcoming auditions I have attached our poster to this email, which has a direct link to our website where people can apply and register.

EVERYONE is welcome!!

Do let me know if you have any problems opening it.

Many kind regards and best wishes,

So, no "Best of British" this year, but they've continued the use of CAPS - used here, it seems, to reassure me that they'll take ANYONE, which they see as a plus, but I see as a minus.

My reply:

Thanks for the email.

I wonder how I'm "exactly what you're looking for", since BGT has always been won by either a singer or a dancer, rather than a cynical, dry and introspective variety comedian.

I joke, for the lols.

I've recieved an email like this (in fact, *suspiciously* like this) every year, inviting me to embark what would no doubt be a moving personal journey to your show. Every year, I poiltely (and I hope, with a degree of wit) decline, citing the following reasons:

(a) You show is awful. Just awful.

(b) I'm a little busy with actual, real, paid work for real audiences who have paid to see me.

(c) See reason (a)

Sorry if I seem unduly rude, but strangely, I have no desire to be fodder for three talentless, witless and crass judges in your shiny floored light entertainment slaughterhouse.

I look forward to your email this time next year.

I don't post this to seem like a grumpy git, but if that's how it comes across - to paraphrase Bill Hicks - it's because I am.

It makes me so sad that the pretty much the only place to see variety on British TV is such a tacky meat market talent show - especially when it's such a hot ticket in so many live venues at the moment. I have such happy memories of the shows of my childhood that inspired me to choose the life I have - shows hosted by people with a knowledge and love of the medium - people like Paul Daniels and Bob Monkhouse, who would, each week, bring the most amazing comedy and variety performers onto the little screen in my parents front room in North London.

People who say that a straight variety show wouldn't work on TV these days know nothing, about variety or TV. You'd just have to make it well. Craft it with love and style and substance, and you could show a whole new generation of viewers that amazing, hilarious, death-defying and beautiful things created by devoted, driven, creative professionals that are going on in variety theatres and clubs all over the world - including pretty much all of the cities that the BGT cattle calls will be held in.

Reviews for the Edinburgh Fringe 2010 production of "Mat Ricardo: Three Balls and a Good Suit"

2010-10-04T05:52:00.001-07:00

MAT RICARDO: THREE BALLS AND A GOOD SUIT
Tales From the Life of a Jaded Novelty Act

My one man show premiered at the 2010 Edinburgh Fringe, as part of the Laughing Horse Free Fringe. Here are some collected reviews.

"Five stars for a juggler? I assure you, no mistake. And the prejudice which makes such acclaim seem surprising is just one theme of this wryly reflective show, which mixes envy-inspiring physical skill with a well-told, deeply personal tale.

There’s no shortage of street performance in Edinburgh just now – but up close and personable, Ricardo demonstrates a subtlety of wit and technique which just wouldn’t work among the mayhem of the Royal Mile. In this intimate venue with a captive crowd, there’s no need to climb a ladder and juggle a chainsaw; but his audience gasped just as loudly when he bounced a teacup off his shoulder, landing it neat and unbroken back on the tray. He throws cigar boxes around, whips tablecloths away, and balances this and that on his nose. It’s impressive, it’s often hilarious… and if it were all he did, it would still be a fine way to spend an hour.

But – while you’ll surely be impressed by his mastery of his craft – that’s not what makes this show. No, its true strength lies in its storytelling, looking back over a life spent perfecting this least-understood physical art. Like all street performers, Ricardo knows how to keep a patter going – and his travels have given him plenty of material to share. In what other context could you name-drop the Krankees, before launching into a story about an escapologist being carted away? Be warned, though: while it might sound like this is a good show to take the kids to, both the language and content are distinctly for grown-ups.

And there’s something else grown-up about the monologue. It’s infused with a bittersweet sadness – a reflection on a career which, as it grew more successful, demanded more and more time away from the things which make life truly worthwhile. You’re a fool if you believe every anecdote you hear in this show, but the darker parts of Ricardo’s story must surely be for real. It’s disarmingly candid and, at times, painfully poignant – but like the showman he is, Ricardo always has a joke standing by to defuse the tension and lift the mood.

When he performs, Ricardo says, he has just one aim: to send the audience away saying there’d been something in his show they’d never seen before. Well, you know what? It worked. For the first time, I looked at a juggler and saw what he really is: a skilful and committed artisan, the equal of any of the high-falutin’ actors I’ll rub shoulders with this Fringe. And the bonus of an hour spent with Ricardo? I laughed myself silly too."
FringGuru.com

"A pleasant Tuesday night out, and not all of it spent at the Pleasance; part pleasure, part work (although the work was unpaid, and pleasurable). At 7.30, having shared fatigue around the kitchen table with Richard Herring, I rolled up at the Three Sisters on Cowgate to see gentleman juggler and AIOTM photographer Mat Ricardo recount his life in street performing and variety, illustrated with some truly astounding feats, many of which I’ve seen, filmed, but never up close like this.

His show Three Balls And A Good Suit is quite a change for him, as it involves more talking and less throwing things up in the air. But the linking passages about his life on the cruise ships (“trapped on a floating prison with two and a half thousand cunts”) and on the cobbles of Covent Garden – as well as hanging out with Monkey off of Monkey in Tokyo and appearing on the bottom of the bill with Bradley Walsh and the Krankies – are delivered with panache and good humour. The space he’s in is clearly way too low-ceilinged for a juggling act, but Mat adapts to survive, and occasionally steps offstage so as to create an extra few inches. After 20 years in the trade, his juggling is predictably excellent. A small audience (“quality not quantity”) couldn’t have been more responsive, clapping and whooping and gasping on cue. Some of this stuff is mind-blowing, not least the cigar box routine, and Mat’s piece de resistance – which he rightly saves for the end – removing a tablecloth and, uniquely, putting it back on, without unsettling a single cup or plate."
Andrew Collins
WhereDidItAllGoRight.com

"The gentleman juggler may not be a common character here in the 21st century, but the form is most certainly not dead. Mat Ricardo in Three Balls and a Good Suit seeks to emulate the great W.C. Fields, along with a class of jugglers who were not circus performers, daredevils or freaks, but gentleman. They entertained, told stories with bravado and class, and, yes, did a trick or two along the way. I can’t say how Ricardo stacks up to Fields, et al, but his stories ring with bravado and his juggling tricks are impressive with a touch of class. While he tells the story of how his career as a juggler has adversely affected his personal life, he weaves a variety of tricks. He claims to be the only one who 'puts the tablecloth back on', and, indeed, he does. He also executes a delightful and rarely performed hat and cane act that he says is 'too subtle for street performance'. Lucky for us, it works beautifully in a dimly-lit bar.

Had I paid a reasonable admission, I would have been satisfied and charmed. That it was a free fringe show made it feel more like a diamond in the rough. Even when performing more typical juggling acts like balancing cigar boxes (we learn not to call them bricks), Ricardo adds something a little less ordinary, and a little classier. In this instance, you’ll want to keep your eyes on the wine glass."
Ezra LeBank
Total Theatre

Running time: 1 hour
Suitable for small-mid size theatres or large cabaret venues
Ages: 18+

Quick & dirty portrait of Stu Goldsmith

2010-10-01T03:34:00.000-07:00

Had a lovely morning shooting headshots for comedian/childrens TV star/street performer/Edinburgh festival success/nice young man Stuart Goldsmith. After we got the shots he needed, I kept him after school for a quick little portrait shoot for me.

I wanted to try to do something in the style of those gorgeous old 60's David Bailey portraits, but with a more dramatic depth of field. Pretty happy with it.

Photoshoot with Kiki & Pascal

2010-09-16T02:11:00.000-07:00

..Otherwise known as Dave and Tamara. They do a comedy magic act, so we went for cheesy 80's style magician shots. Before they came to the studio I did a little googling for promo photos of real magic acts to spoof. Can't be done - the real things are more awful than a joke version could ever be..
Fun shoot, and the dry ice only set off the smoke alarms once, so that's a plus.

Feature about me in Italy's La Repubblica

2010-07-09T02:09:00.001-07:00

Apparently the headline says "A true gentleman who never loses his aplomb"

MAT RICARDO: THREE BALLS AND A GOOD SUIT

2010-07-06T04:05:00.000-07:00

Towards the end of the 19th Century, when there was a flourishing variety and music hall world, and when devoting one's life to being a juggler was actually a viable career choice, there was something called a gentleman juggler. They would dress in the finest tailored suits, hand-made shoes, dashing hats, and silver cufflinks. They would appear on stage as dapper playboys and perform feats of dazzling manipulative expertise with hats, canes, cigars, spoons, knives, plates, vases, furniture - in short anything that a gentleman might encounter while on a night out. They were cool, clever, witty, and their charisma, if it could be harnessed, could have powered a steam ship. They were the pop stars of their day.

Since the late 1980's, Mat Ricardo has been doing exactly that. It is, though, no longer the day of the gentleman juggler, and Mat Ricardo is, as you may already be aware, not a pop star.

He has, however, risen through the ranks to carve out a successful and healthy career in the places where juggling is still seen as something to be watched and enjoyed rather than in his native England where it is seen as showing off, and thus should be discouraged. He regularly headlines theatres in Europe, works comedy festivals around the world, performs on some of the finest cabaret and burlesque stages, and on cruise ships throughout the seven seas. Accordingly, he is hardly ever at home and hasn't had a good full english breakfast in god knows how long.

So, he's decided to return to the UK to premier his new show "Mat Ricardo: Three Balls and a Good Suit". It's an evening of tales from the life of a jaded novelty act, with the occasional spellbinding and spectacular trick thrown in.

In this show you will hear of his time hanging out in Tokyo with monkey from the 70's TV show Monkey. You'll learn how to tell when someone's died on a cruise ship. You'll find out why you should never trust a magician, and never go out with a juggler. You'll hear levels of cynicism that you never knew existed. Oh, and you'll see a few tricks that nobody else in the world can do - including the legendary reverse tablecloth pull, where the cloth gets put back on the table underneath all the objects. Yes.

REVIEWS FOR PAST SHOWS

"The undenied highlight of the show...spectacular juggling...so humourous that the audience laughed until they could laugh no more!"
Neuepresse

"Impeccable charm and considerable skill"
Bruce Dessau, London Evening Standard

"The highlight of the evening..it became hard to breathe due to the constant laughter..simply magnificent!"
Parkscout magazine

"A delightful mix of skills and humour...the finale really does seem impossible!"
Liz Aratoon, The Stage

"Mat Ricardo is the best of both Worlds - a genius juggler and a gifted comedian."
TimeOut.com

"Spectacular physical artistry...total comedy."
Augsburg International Theatre Festival, Germany

"Dazzling!"
Time Out Magazine

"Britain's best juggler"
Cape Town Times

"The Best I have ever seen"
Emma Thompson

SHOW DETAILS

Albany Studio Deptford
30th & 31st July 2010 8pm
Five Pounds
With special guest!
To book tickets, and for more info on the London shows, click here

Edinburgh Festival Fringe
Maggies Chamber
Laughing Horse @ The Three Sisters
139 Cowgate
5th - 19th August 2010
7.30pm
Admission Free
For more information on the Edinburgh shows, Click here.

To find out more about Mat Ricardo, click here.

New website is now online!

2009-11-26T03:54:00.000-08:00

And posts from my blog should show up there! How very web 2.0!

Sharon Mahoney

2009-11-20T03:03:00.001-08:00

Sharon Mahoney, originally uploaded by Mat Ricardo.

Is this thing on?

2009-11-20T02:51:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, I haven't used this in a while.

Stay tuned - I'll be using more in the near future. Stay tuned.

Sam Wills, street performer

2009-07-06T01:40:00.003-07:00

Sam Wills, street performer, originally uploaded by Mat Ricardo.

Abi in the sun

2009-07-06T01:40:00.001-07:00

Abi in the sun, originally uploaded by Mat Ricardo.

Cool fella in Leicester square

2009-06-29T09:56:00.003-07:00

Cool fella in Leicester square, originally uploaded by Mat Ricardo.