Curtain Cutie: Lorenzo Pisoni

In Lorenzo Pisoni’s dressing room there is a table filled with medical supplies -- Neosporin, Ace bandages, ice packs and band-aids -- that reminds me of the “just in case” ambulance outside of an amusement park, its presence an abrupt reminder that there is the possibility of serious injury during a fun-filled day. Lorenzo is a professional circus performer who specializes in clowning and sometimes the tricks he performs --like falling from a 10-foot ladder with goggles on -- during his autobiographical off-Broadway show Humor Abuse, can get him a little banged up. But, he says, despite all his preventative measures, it doesn’t happen often. He has after all been performing since the age of two, in the Pickle Family Circus alongside his parents, until they divorced when he was ten. At the age of six, Pisoni signed a contract with the circus to star in a clowning sketch with his father, and has worked on and off in circuses ever since. His unusual upbringing and his relationship with his red-nosed- donning father is the focus of his show.

A nice side effect from Pisoni's years of acrobatics and flying high on the trapeze is a pretty smoking body that matches his smoldering Italian good looks. But it is clear that Pisoni, who was also in the Broadway revival of Equus last year, is more than just a pretty face. His one-man show, created and co-directed by his friend and fellow Vassar alum Erica Schmidt, is a well-done, honest and emotionally raw piece of theater. I visited him before a two-show-day last week and he told me about his current relationship with his family, juggling at the grocery store and -- as someone who is always striving to make other people laugh -- what it is that makes him giggle.

You have a lot of precautionary material here. Do you ever injure yourself during the show?
No. Sometimes I’ll do something stupid and I’ll bang myself up and I’m like ‘ooh when did I do that?’ like I’ll have a bruise or something, but no mostly not.

Yeah you know what you are doing by now right?
I hope so. I hope so.

Well I got kind of worried for you when you do the ladder trick.
The ladder is trickery. It’s all trickery. The ladder is not actually even so it’s easy to tip.

That’s my worst nightmare.
That’s a lot of people’s worst nightmare, which is why I thought it would be good to do.

And you’re scared of heights right?
I don’t enjoy heights. It’s interesting because it’s like I’ve done the flying trapeze and stuff but if I had my druthers I probably wouldn’t just go hang out that high, but if you are doing something and you have a purpose or a task your mind just kind of goes click.

What was the hardest circus trick to learn.
I did a lot of acrobatics when I was a circus performer that I don’t do in the show and so that – that kind of stuff was a bit harder, but I think maybe as a lesson, the hardest thing was to not rush -- especially with the clowing stuff, understanding that people will stay with you. That was probably the hardest lesson to learn –. A lot of the stuff that I do in the show takes a long time to get to the jokes and I think a lot of times people are thinking to themselves, 'what am I watching?' And then slowly it gets there and that’s really my father’s style too. He’s a lot slower than me. He likes to make people uncomfortable, well I don’t know that he likes it, but it’s an interesting tool for him to use.

I saw that your dad came to opening night of the show? What did he think of it?
He loved it.

There are some painful memories and a lot of things you say that could be potentially hurtful.
I definitely was worried about that and I prepared myself for certain moments because he had never read it or seen it until opening night. But there were other things that I said that I wasn’t prepared for the difficulty of saying.

Like what?
Well I say in the play that I would sleep at his house on a fold-out couch and miss my mother’s home and I never said that to him. I mean there are so many things in the show that I’ve never said to him face to face and that was one of them, but I didn’t think that that would be difficult for me to say, but it got me. It was really interesting.

I can’t believe he hadn’t even read it until opening night!
Yeah I had this romantic notion that he would show up opening night and it would be this thing that he would see and that’s kind of what happened, but I don’t know that I would do that again. Opening nights are already weird in and of themselves and then to throw in, oh yeah my dad’s here, and the whole show’s about him and he’s staying with me.

Did you make him sleep on a fold-out couch?
Yeah I was like here ya’ go Dad. Enjoy that. No, he has a nice set up in my apartment.

What was his reaction?
He was emotional and I don’t know that he quite knew how to process it. He kept saying ‘thank you’ and ‘it was a such a gift’ and I really do think it’s loving and more celebratory then kind of not, and he did a really great job as a parent and he’s a great clown. I was hoping that I would be able to show him in the three-dimensional. He’s also different then he was when I was a kid so then I think he can look at something like the show and really appreciate it not only as a piece of theater but also what I’m trying to say to him.

Did the rest of your family come to opening night?
Yeah, my mother was there. My sister has her own circus and she was actually opening a show of hers in Montreal a week after my opening so she couldn’t come. She’ll come see it in April.

Are you close with your mother and your sister as well?
Our relationship is good. It’s hard because my mother lives in California so I don’t see her that much and my sister lives in Montreal and she’s always working and she has two kids, so Skype is a wonderful thing. We can sit and chat and look at each other and I can see the kids for free.

Since you and your sister both grew up performing do you think you worried less about being able to to support yourselves as adults?
Yeah, I think for better or for worse. I think we always just assumed that performing was the way we were going to support ourselves. I mean certainly I’ve had straight jobs, but I was always so reluctant, where I think a lot of my friends who didn’t grow up performing it was like this is what is done.

What kind of “straight” jobs have you had?
I assisted this conceptual artist doing everything from Photoshop to walking her dogs. I did some handyman stuff and I taught gymnastics for awhile. I’ve kind of done everything but wait tables. I can’t quite get myself around to that one. I honestly just don’t think I have the math skills. I couldn’t do the math for the bill.

So what is it that makes you laugh?
If you ever watch anyone trip on the street they always look back to see what it was and I don’t know why we all do that. Like what are you going to do? Are you going to fix it? No, you’re probably just going to keep going but it’s this weird thing to like acknowledge that you didn’t just trip on nothing. I love that.

So do you laugh when people trip and fall?
If it’s a good fall. It’s really funny when somebody really takes it. I mean I feel bad when it’s ice – because that’s somehow not really their fault, but if someone totally spills and there’s nothing around, if it’s just a bright summer day and they take a spill then that’s kind of funny, but if it’s rainy and icy and then they fall then I feel really bad and don’t laugh although it’s also kind of funny. Oh god I’m a terrible person and I’m going to hell.

When did you realize your upbringing was maybe not the most normal?
I think maybe it was college, because I really tried to deny it and not talk about it and I didn’t want people to know. I would just work on my vacations and miss school here and there. In my high school everyone knew the Pickles and knew that I was part of it. They were mostly nice about it. I mean every once in a while they’d be like ‘hey come on run up the wall and do a back flip.’ But in college I tried to show up and not ever talk about it and then one day I was living with roommates and a circus director called and left a message on the answering machine asking me to go to Tokyo to be a ringmaster in the circus. My roommates heard the message before me and when I walk in they’re sitting on the couch waiting for me. It was kind of like ‘Lucy you’ve got some explaining to do!’ So then I had to explain to them that I grew up in the circus. They didn’t believe me and I guess it does sound pretty outlandish but if you’re going to make up a lie that is a doozy. So then we went outside and I did a back flip and they were like ‘Oh, OK.’

Why didn’t you want anyone to know about your upbringing in college?
I felt like in high school a lot of people were friendly to me because of the circus not because they knew me. I was just trying to find my identity I think. Was I just this circus performer or were people friendly to me because they liked me? So in college it was kind of this experiment -- like, would people like me and the answer is no.

That’s funny.
I was just trying to figure out who I was and I decided that I wasn’t a circus performer that I was just going to be an actor and now I’m doing this show.

You used to travel all the time with the circus. Do you feel restless now that you’ve been working in New York for awhile?
I live here and I love New York. It’s home. And I like to nest I’m realizing and maybe that’s because I did so much traveling, but no, I don’t feel restless. It’s not like it’s a calm place.

What do you do when you’re not performing?
Sleep, ice. I’ve never done a solo show before and everyone told me you don’t do anything else and I was like get out of here it’s a 75 minute show! But no, you can’t do anything else. It’s exhausting. I hang out with some friends when I can, which is not all that often, but I do, and hang out in my apartment. It’s really really boring. The cool thing is that lots of people I know are coming to see the show, so afterwards I see friends that I haven’t seen in a long time. A lot of people from my childhood are showing up and that’s totally bizarre.

So the show’s been extended, but what are you going to do after that?
I don’t know. I’m going to take a vacation. That’s for sure. I’m hoping that there might be a life for the show after this but I don’t know if that would be or when that would be.

Is there talk about moving it to Broadway?
Nothing besides like my friends. They’re like 'Hey you’re going go to Broadway!' and I’m like 'well you got a couple mill?' As for another job I don’t know. I’ve been on a few auditions for small bit parts for films that I could do while I’m doing this. I think all of my people are kind of waiting to hear what happens with this.

You do some tap dancing in the show. Can you sing? Maybe you could do a musical?
I can sing but I hesitate to say that in New York because there’s some people in this town that can sing so I have to come up with a verb – like talk loudly with melody. That’s more what it is. But that’s definitely the next challenge I think is to do a musical.

So do you ever find yourself subconsciously doing circus tricks?
Yes. I can’t help it. I take like a couple apples and oranges from the fridge and before I put it on the counter I’m like juggling. I do it all the time. My friends are just over it. They’re really over it. They don’t even comment on it anymore.

If you aren’t lucky enough to get an invite to his apartment you can see Lorenzo professionally juggling, tapping, flipping and clowning in Humor Abuse at New York City Center Stage II through April 19th.

Pictured is Pisoni in Humor Abuse photographed by Joan Marcus and Pisoni with his father Larry on opening night. Photo courtesy of Broadwayworld.com