I can’t be sure of the exact date (sometime in 1963) when Coco the Clown visited St. Teresa’s Primary School, Belfast. But I do remember the day. Coco was the most famous clown in the UK at the time. The excitement amongst us kids was intense. Somebody famous was coming to our neck of the woods when very few celebrities did.
He was born Nicolai Poliakoff in Latvia in 1900. He ran away from home in 1908 to find a circus that would give him a job. After a sob story, he was hired and gained a little experience of that life before reconnecting with his parents. His father decided to let his son follow the dream. Nikolai was apprenticed to Rudolfo Truzzi, a member of a famous Russian circus dynasty. He learned trapeze, acrobatics and horse riding. By 1919, he was married and would eventually father six children.
He pursued his circus ambitions, first across the Soviet Union, before eventually joining Bertram Mills Circus which took him to Manchester in 1929. He stayed with Mills for over 35 years, evolving into the role of resident clown. In the Second World War, Coco joined the logistical operations unit known as the Pioneer Corps. Then, as part of the Entertainment National Service Association (ENSA), he entertained troops. In 1949, he and his wife Valentina became British citizens. He was a Bertram Mills clown until 1964, close to the time he came to our wee Belfast school.
In 1959, Coco was involved in a serious road accident which made him think of using his fame and talent to champion a cause. He chose road safety, specifically with regard to children and toured the UK frequently. Queen Elizabeth II awarded him the OBE.
He was a journeyman circus performer and eventually a full-time clown and, as mentioned, the most famous clown in the UK, boosted by many television appearances.
Our primary school event took place in the adjacent St. Teresa’s Parochial Hall. As soon as Coco was announced and as he was bounding on to the stage, we clapped, shouted and screamed. This was the first major star celebrity I had ever seen. I was about nine years old.
Coco had his trademark face make-up of exaggerated eyebrows, a big nose, a silly moustache and a whitish face. His trick hairpiece had hinges in the central parting and, somehow, he would lift and flap the sides over his ears to emphasise surprise or just to get a laugh. His clothes were baggy and his shoes were enormous.
He clowned around for a while and we roared with laughter. I seem to recall a few tricks with a yo-yo. It was pure magic and he had us in the palm of his hand. We listened intently to his road safety advice. We all got a colourful badge with Coco’s face at the centre. Again, we hooted and hollered as he left the building. Excited, entertained and enlightened, we returned to school to draw road safety posters.
This event has stayed with me nearly 60 years. Obviously, I cannot remember all the fine details but the fact that I recall it at all is a testament to its power as a lasting experience.
Funnily enough, apart from Coco, I never really liked clowns, or circuses for that matter. I never found them and their antics funny – the honking car whose doors and wheels fell of, the rough and tumble fights with buckets of water, routines involving planks of wood that would eventually knock someone to the ground and manic chases around the Big Top.
There was a renowned clown called Charlie Cairoli who performed around the same time as Coco, but he didn’t appeal to me. I have been to one circus in my life and while the various acts kept things moving along, I had no inclination to go to another one. I much preferred the comic actors who clowned around on screen. I suppose I’m just funny about clowns and comedy.
In 1962, Eammon Andrews surprised Coco in London for TV’s This Is Your Life and about a year later, an audience of pupils in a Belfast primary school actually saw him in person.
Nicolai Poliakoff died at 74 in 1974. He is buried alongside his wife at St. Mary’s Church, Woodnewton, Northamptonshire. The gravestone says: “Coco the Clown, Loved and Remembered Always.” Amen to that, says this Belfast kid.
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