Winning the booby prize
Heather Carver clowns in breast cancer comedy
Carver removes the Booby Prize from a box.
Breast cancer comedy. The words feel uneasy together.
But not for Heather Carver, star of Booby Prize, a one-woman show written and performed by the Mizzou theater professor.
Carver stands more than six-feet-tall in a fuzzy orange wig. Oversized shoes that slap when she walks, an undersized hat almost lost in the orange frizz, and garish shirt and pants mark her — clown. In the half-hour before Booby Prize, with a big, red smile painted on her face, Carver fashions a “rabbit-dog” balloon animal and juggles blue, yellow and green scarves made by a friend in the audience.
In October 2005, Carver was diagnosed with breast cancer. She had a double mastectomy, followed by chemotherapy and radiation. In Booby Prize she tells stories, often funny and poignant, about the experience.
Booby Prize, directed by Kevin Babbitt, ran in late January and early February at the Corner Playhouse located in the Fine Arts Annex.
Clowning around
Carver premiered Booby Prize on Oct. 7, 2006 for a group of medical professionals at the annual Ellis Fischel Oncology Conference. Before she performed, someone asked, “Are you worried that some of the people might be afraid of clowns?”
Carver laughs when she tells the story. “Performing in front of a group of medical professionals there to study about breast cancer and clowns are scary?”
Carver started clowning at age 15. She’s taken and taught clown courses over the years. She took up juggling in graduate school.
But why talk about breast cancer in clown attire?
“I want to have time for people to see that side of me so they can see how complicated the experience is,” Carver says.
Nose for comedy
As people enter the Corner Playhouse, Carver greets them, inviting some to take a clown nose and wear it. The noses engage the audience, but they do more.
“I did not want to frame my piece by the diagnoses and dates of each surgery,” Carver says.
Instead, she uses the red foam noses, each with a word printed on it in black: Dad; Mom; Life-Partner; Doctors; Nurses; Foe; W; Sister; Friend; Therapist. Carver asks for a nose back from the audience as she tells stories related to it. She improvises the whole show.
“I am now a person who lives in the moment. In order to do it authentically, I wanted to do it in performance work as well,” says Carver. “Each night is about me and the audience.”
Natural fit
In a bit of uneasy synchronicity, Carver’s academic work focuses on performance studies and women’s health, creating a natural opportunity for her to turn her experiences into artistic work.
Carver is artistic director and co-founder of the Troubling Violence Performance Project, a troupe that performs personal narratives about domestic/relationship violence. She is also co-director of the Theatre Department’s Writing for Performance program.
On stage
The lights drop a bit. Carver struggles to lift a candy cane-striped box. The audience applauds and she magically gains the strength to lift and bring it to the front of the stage. “What do you think is in here?” she asks. One person calls out and Carver fires back a quick reply: “You think my boobs are in this box, lady?” People laugh.
Carver roots around and pulls out a frame with the words “Booby Prize” in it. She perches on a trunk and pulls off the orange wig. Underneath her short dark hair is disheveled.
“I won. One out of every seven women in the U.S. is gonna win too,” she says. Carver doesn’t use a lot of statistics in the show, but this one makes a big impression.
In a tight Hostess t-shirt, Carver holds one of the noses used to mark sections of the performance.
Carver continues to shed her clown costume until she’s in socks, crop pants and a tight red t-shirt with the Hostess logo outlining her form.
“I wanted people to see my real shape and that I’m not ashamed of it,” says Carver. “I’m still a person. It isn’t about the breasts and hair. I feel fortunate to have the self esteem to really like myself.”
Uncertain ending
As the show winds to a close, Carver says: “This story doesn’t have a happy ending … because I don’t know what it will be.”
It’s not a prize that she wanted, but Carver has certainly turned the Booby Prize into an empowered piece of theater – and survival.
Raising awareness and money
Carver and husband, Bill Horner, political science professor at MU, are faculty advisors for the Mizzou Relay for Life in April. — Lisa Bruce
Photos by Jon Drtina