I have adapted and directed a stage version of The Nose by Nikolai Gogol, that is appearing at St Mary’s Street Hall. We have created a searing indictment of class, a hard-core physical theatre piece in the style of Steven Berkoff. Although I have never seen anything that Steven Berkoff has done, I have watched many student productions of his plays, and am therefore an expert. This ability to know everything is a unique skill that all young people have.

Our first performance is not met with the anticipated political uprising but hysterical laughter, and we are confused. We retreat to The Waverley to work out what is going on. We realise that, by mistake, we have brought all of the nonsense of the rehearsal room on to the stage with us, and shared it with the audience. We double down on our failure, embrace the nonsense, and begin to sell out.

Towards the end of the run an audience member asks us when we studied with Philippe Gaulier. I am familiar with Gauloises, but not Gaulier. When I look into this, I realise that we have accidentally invented clowning, an achievement that is as stupidly, gloriously pointless as the art itself. I also realise that, like it or not, clowning is going to inform everything that I do from this moment on.

Double down on your failure. Embrace the nonsense. Be stupidly, gloriously pointless. After all, the audience is always right.