Bouffon
Bouffon (English originally from French: "farceur", "comique", jester") is a modern French theater term that was re-coined in the early 1960s by Jacques Lecoq at his L'École Internationale de Théâtre Jacques Lecoq in Paris to describe a specific style of performance work that has a main focus in the art of mockery. The word gave rise to the English word buffoon.
Etymology and early history
The word bouffon comes from a Latin verb: buffare, to puff (i.e., to fill the cheeks with air); the word "Buffo" was used in the Roman theatre by those who appeared on the stage with their cheeks blown up; when they received blows that they would make a great noise causing the audience to laugh. The usage of the word bouffon comes from French and has entered English theatrical language through the work of Jacques Lecoq and his pedagogic inquiry into performance approaches of comedy, leading him to create dynamic classroom exercises that explored elements of burlesque, commedia dell'arte, farce, gallows humor, parody, satire, slapstick, etc. that collectively influenced the development of modern bouffon performance work.
Podcasts:
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by Richard Thompson
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by Maroon 5
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by The Legendary Pink Dots
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by Bl
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by Graham Nash
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by Radio Dead Ones
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by Blof
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by June Tabor
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by Amazing Blondel
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by M2M
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by In Extremo
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by Tribe
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by Crown The Empire
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by Savoy
Pavanne
by: Richard ThompsonPavanne, cold steel woman Pavanne
How do you love a woman
With eyes cold as the barrel of her gun
Who's never missed her mark on anyone
Pavanne, Pavanne, Pavanne
Casino doors swing open, the rich men raise their eyes
They say who is this beauty as elegant as ice
And later there's an accident, another charge d'affair
Is lying in a pool of blood, no witness anywhere
And they say she was a hundred miles away
The hotel porter saw her climb the stairs
And the maid with trembling hands knows what to say
When the judge says "Are your sure," "I'm sure" she
swears
Pavanne, cold steel woman Pavanne
How do you love a woman
With eyes cold as the barrel of her gun
Who's never missed her mark on anyone
Pavanne, Pavanne, Pavanne
At the presidential palace a thousand people saw
His excellency leave his car and never make the door
The blood flows from his fingers as he clutches at the
stain
He staggers like a drunken man, lies twisted in the
rain
And they say she grew up well provided for
Her mother used to keep her boys for sure
And father's close attentions led to talk
She learned to stab her food with a silver fork
Pavanne, cold steel woman Pavanne
And they say she didn't do it for the money
And they say she didn't do it for a man
They say that she did it for the pleasure
The pleasure of the moment
Pavanne, cold steel woman Pavanne
How do you stop this woman
When everyone is moving in a trance
Like prisoners of some slow, courtly dance
Pavanne, Pavanne, Pavanne