What began as a tipsy joke in a pub has evolved into one of Ben Richardson’s most inventive performance yet. Drawing on his life as a CODA - a Child of Deaf Adult(s) - and his years as both a comic and Auslan interpreter, Richardson blends stand-up with hands-on language learning, inviting audiences to laugh while picking up the fundamentals of Auslan along the way. In this interview, he reflects on the accidental origins of the show, the influence of growing up between Deaf and hearing worlds, and why signing to a song could be the funniest way to learn.
"This came about from a drunken night out, as all good shows do," Richardson explains. "We were at a country pub and there was a live band playing the usual country pub songs. I drunkenly started singing them in sign language. My mates joined in after I showed them how to do the chorus. Then others on the dance floor jumped in and it became quite the scene. I realised hearing people enjoy doing these in Auslan and I also realised the only way people are ever going to want to hear me sing is if I do it quietly in sign language. Hence, Welcome to the Auslan Jungle was created."
Richardson's experience of being a CODA and the directness of Auslan has influenced his approach to humour and communication in his performances. "It's a very direct language. It does not bother with the polite niceties of the English language," he tells me. "In English you might describe someone as curvy, voluptuous and full of life and the Auslan equivalent for that is the sign for fat. Growing up as a CODA and interpreting for my Deaf mum my whole life has made me look for the hidden meaning behind everything, there is humour in real communication."
"I teach mostly through story-telling and jokes, with a little bit of direct instruction. Audiences learn signs as they are laughing at the jokes and then that culminates in Auslan tests throughout the show where they can practice what they learnt by signing songs. Signing songs the first time always results in comedy."
He goes on to explain how performing with an Auslan interpreter does not alter the rhythm or timing of his comedy, unless the joke flops. "I give my interpreters a video of the show beforehand so they can rehearse and know when the jokes are coming. I end my jokes with a pause for laughter and that gives the interpreter time to catch up which is usually a couple of seconds so there may be a double up of laughter when the Deaf audience gets the complete joke. I sometimes check in with them at that point with a quick glance, so that they understand we are in this together. If my jokes bomb, that's also on them," he laughs.
And if there's one misconception that Richardson would love to clear up in Welcome to the Auslan Jungle for hearing audiences when it comes to engaging with Deaf people it's this: "speaking louder with Deaf people doesn't help. It's like the Reserve Bank raising interest rates; it doesn't matter how high you go there still isn't enough hearing supply for this to work."
MICF QUICKFIRE FIVE
1. The most memorable audience reaction I've ever received is from a Deaf audience member talking to his friend after the show. I eavesdropped by watching from a distance as they were signing. The guy said he was confused because he didn't laugh at all the jokes which was an interesting insight into how he perceived comedy shows. Historically, the Deaf have had very little access to this type of performance and these Deaf people just assumed everyone laughed at every joke. But that's not how it works, people laugh at what they find funny and not every joke will land for every person. I wanted to go over and tell the Deaf person this but I didn't, I kept my hands quietly in my pocket.
2. A totally absurd award I’d win if it existed is the best use of licorice and red wine as a meal.
3. The worst thing I have ever eaten is a band-aid that had fallen into my food. That band-aid was stuck in me.
4. One backstage ritual that makes me feel ready to get on stage is getting nervous before a show. If I'm not nervous it's a sign that it's going to be a bad show. It's become a superstition for me now, so if you see me before a show and I'm not nervous please do something to make me nervous.
5. If I could swap places with another performer for a day, it would be Greg Davies on Taskmaster because I could introduce "little Alex Horne" (who is the same height as me) (6 foot 2 and a bit in case you're wondering).
"This came about from a drunken night out, as all good shows do," Richardson explains. "We were at a country pub and there was a live band playing the usual country pub songs. I drunkenly started singing them in sign language. My mates joined in after I showed them how to do the chorus. Then others on the dance floor jumped in and it became quite the scene. I realised hearing people enjoy doing these in Auslan and I also realised the only way people are ever going to want to hear me sing is if I do it quietly in sign language. Hence, Welcome to the Auslan Jungle was created."
Richardson's experience of being a CODA and the directness of Auslan has influenced his approach to humour and communication in his performances. "It's a very direct language. It does not bother with the polite niceties of the English language," he tells me. "In English you might describe someone as curvy, voluptuous and full of life and the Auslan equivalent for that is the sign for fat. Growing up as a CODA and interpreting for my Deaf mum my whole life has made me look for the hidden meaning behind everything, there is humour in real communication."
"I teach mostly through story-telling and jokes, with a little bit of direct instruction. Audiences learn signs as they are laughing at the jokes and then that culminates in Auslan tests throughout the show where they can practice what they learnt by signing songs. Signing songs the first time always results in comedy."
He goes on to explain how performing with an Auslan interpreter does not alter the rhythm or timing of his comedy, unless the joke flops. "I give my interpreters a video of the show beforehand so they can rehearse and know when the jokes are coming. I end my jokes with a pause for laughter and that gives the interpreter time to catch up which is usually a couple of seconds so there may be a double up of laughter when the Deaf audience gets the complete joke. I sometimes check in with them at that point with a quick glance, so that they understand we are in this together. If my jokes bomb, that's also on them," he laughs.
And if there's one misconception that Richardson would love to clear up in Welcome to the Auslan Jungle for hearing audiences when it comes to engaging with Deaf people it's this: "speaking louder with Deaf people doesn't help. It's like the Reserve Bank raising interest rates; it doesn't matter how high you go there still isn't enough hearing supply for this to work."
MICF QUICKFIRE FIVE
1. The most memorable audience reaction I've ever received is from a Deaf audience member talking to his friend after the show. I eavesdropped by watching from a distance as they were signing. The guy said he was confused because he didn't laugh at all the jokes which was an interesting insight into how he perceived comedy shows. Historically, the Deaf have had very little access to this type of performance and these Deaf people just assumed everyone laughed at every joke. But that's not how it works, people laugh at what they find funny and not every joke will land for every person. I wanted to go over and tell the Deaf person this but I didn't, I kept my hands quietly in my pocket.
2. A totally absurd award I’d win if it existed is the best use of licorice and red wine as a meal.
3. The worst thing I have ever eaten is a band-aid that had fallen into my food. That band-aid was stuck in me.
4. One backstage ritual that makes me feel ready to get on stage is getting nervous before a show. If I'm not nervous it's a sign that it's going to be a bad show. It's become a superstition for me now, so if you see me before a show and I'm not nervous please do something to make me nervous.
5. If I could swap places with another performer for a day, it would be Greg Davies on Taskmaster because I could introduce "little Alex Horne" (who is the same height as me) (6 foot 2 and a bit in case you're wondering).
SHOW DETAILS
Venue: Wheat, Wine & Whisky, 284 Smith St, Collingwood
Season: 5 - 19 April | 5.30pm
Duration: 50 minutes
Tickets: $30 Full | $20 Concession, Preview and Tightarse Tuesday
Bookings: Melbourne International Comedy Festival
No comments:
Post a Comment