Her friend Chad Damiani, an architect of the West Coast’s contemporary clown scene, encouraged her not to be so precious. “He told me, ‘You’re giving the label too much power. Call yourself a clown!’ [But] the pure art form of clowning is innocent and childlike, and my stuff is very dark, grotesque, and a little blue, which would fall more in line with bouffon—a more satirical offshoot of clowning.”
Photographed by Sam Sussman
Either way, Palamides has captivated audiences with her compassionate, tenacious performance style, leaving mouths agape as she ricochets around the stage, pivoting from Mark to Christina, drenched (and drenching some of her viewers) in various liquids. The New Yorker called Palamides “a physical-comedy virtuoso,” and among those who have come to watch are Drew Barrymore, Sabrina Carpenter, Dua Lipa, and Nathan Fielder. (Also, her own parents, who were there opening night: “It’s their fault that I have this sense of humor. They’re both demented and deranged… in a good way.”) In January, she will take Weer back to the UK—where it enjoyed a rapturous debut at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2024—for 10 nights at the revered Soho Theatre’s outpost in Walthamstow, London.
The concept for Weer was worked up from a 10-minute set Palamides did to open her friend Mike O’Brien’s show at the Elysian in Los Angeles. He gave her free rein. “I had this image in my head of a tragic car crash scene inspired by the Pearl Jam song ‘Last Kiss,’” Palamides explains. “I thought that was a beautiful and absurd image. I grabbed a deer head hanging on my wall, a bunch of stuff from my wardrobe that I glued half and half together, and an old steering wheel…we won’t give too much more away.”