Yellowknife (Aug 11/06) - "Not yet. As soon as it turns into a human, you can take pictures."

As weird statements go, it was a winner.

I was at the Northern Arts and Cultural Centre, covering the Centre for Indigenous Theatre Summer School North, as the acting program entered its third year.

Ria Coleman, left, and Jazzan Braden get into the act during a clown class during the Centre for Indigenous Theatre Summer School North at the Northern Arts and Cultural Centre. - Adam Johnson/NNSL photo

The students in front of me were stalking about the stage, shuffling and scratching in some sort of primal remembering.

It was alright; I've seen acting workshops and modern dance clinics before. It's just part of the process. But these animals were all wearing red noses. This was a clown class, one of many types of instruction the centre offers.

"(Clowns) see everything as if for the first time," explained Edmonton-based clown instructor Jan Henderson. The fool is them if they lived in the moment and loved themselves."

Suffice it to say, it was much more than funny faces and pratfalls; this was being treated as a serious and intense discipline.

The presence of a reporter and a high-powered flash is usually a bit of a mood-killer, so I tried my best to stay on the fringes, a meek tourist shooting lions for National Geographic.

Henderson decided to break the tension as the students formed a circle, part of a "goddess dance."

"Go into the centre, see what happens," she whispered to me.

It should be noted that I am a fairly meek person, not prone to putting himself in harm's way. It's only under the banner of journalism that I have to be this proactive.

So I did it.

Immediately, I was set upon, lashed and shrouded in layers of glittering, see-through fabric.

As Henderson directed the students, I was hoisted into the air (still clutching my camera), a "ritual sacrifice" to these goddesses, who paraded me across the stage. Then, as suddenly as it started, they set me on the ground and it was over. Noses came off, laughter pealed across the stage and the clowns scattered.

"What were you thinking when they had you up there?" Henderson asked.

I didn't really know what to say. Well, more likely I didn't want to say what I was really thinking while being carried around by six goddesses.

"I wish I had showered today."

You can see what the students have learned in person during the centre's free public performance, 2 p.m. Sunday at NACC. "It will be heartfelt and amazing," Henderson said as a last-minute pitch.