Look After Your Knees

One women’s mission to let go of a load of sh*t

Look After Your Knees is a new solo work by theatre maker, performer and physical comedian Natalie Bellingham. Look After Your Knees is a show about the pain and beauty of growing older, of connecting and unravelling, of taking hold and letting go. This new solo performance uses comedy, storytelling and movement to uncover some of the things in life that can be hard to talk about. It’s a celebration of being human in all its banality, sprinkled with joy and ridiculousness. It’s a visual and physical collage performed by a clown delving into the space inside us left behind by time. It’s about a person trying to unwrap the new
version of themselves in a world they don't recognise and a life they seem uncomfortably in charge of. This is a show about facing change when you didn’t see it coming. It’s about what comes next.

Performer and co-creator Natalie Bellingham
Director and co-creator Jamie Wood

‘Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone’ - Baz Lurhman

Natalie Bellingham
Natalie is a theatre maker, performer and physical comedian, raised in Manchester and now based in Yorkshire. She was co-founder of Uncanny Theatre and toured original work for a decade to
theatres and festivals throughout the UK. She was a Funny Women Finalist in 2021 and most recently toured the UK with The Polar Bear (Is Dead) a show made in collaboration with Italian theatre maker Daniele Pennati about loss, climate change and the Spice Girls. Natalie makes work that embraces the honesty of clown and the complexity of being human using comedy to explore difficult subject matter. Beautifully researched, with a balance of storytelling, absurdity and powerful visual moments, her work is entertaining and challenging in equal measure, acknowledging the audience and creating a relaxed environment where no one is the expert. She uses small ideas to shine a light on the more unwieldy ones. Her work can be autobiographical, although not always. Sometimes it’s about the pain of losing a
parent, sometimes it’s about tiny little birds and often it can be about both.