Magdalena is not your average clown. She’s seductive, volatile, raw, and strangely comforting in her chaos. And she’s the creation of Lily Sinko, a French-English theatre-maker whose roots in Marseille and East London pulse through every second of her latest one-woman show. As Magdalena, Woman of Joy kicks off its riotous run at Playhouse East, we caught up with Lily Sinko to explore the origins of her unapologetically messy muse.
What was the spark that first gave birth to the character of Magdalena, and how has she evolved since 2019?
The character Magdalena was born during a clowning module at drama school in 2019. One of the first exercises asked us to wear something we’d never usually wear. I found this tiny, destroyed black faux-leather dress in a charity shop. Super sexual, restrictive, and totally uncomfortable. Tits and butt bursting from the seams. But that discomfort was the spark. It made me feel exposed, strange, and oddly playful, exactly what clowning is about. One exercise in particular became the moment Magdalena first came to life. My clown interacted with a chair in this hilariously chaotic, romantic, tragic sequence. It was raw, joyful, and totally liberating.
She didn’t have a name then, but the essence was there. She showed up again in The Big Whack, a devised murder mystery clown show where she kept getting killed off every time she tried to reveal the truth, but somehow always came back to life. And so, that refusal to stay quiet became a core part of her. After that, she kept reappearing in school shows, kind of a running joke. Whenever we needed chaos, I’d say, “What about Magdalena?”
Later, in The Cathedral, she became the cleaner of a sacred space, and hinted at a deeper backstory. That’s when I knew she needed her own show. So, with Dan Kettle, who directed that first clown show and has been there from the start, we began scripting. It was a big shift, taking something born from improv and turning it into something more structured. We tested it in work-in-progress showings at Actors East and VAULT Festival, and over time, she grew.
She’s still wild and unpredictable, but this version of the show is the most complete she’s ever been. All those years of messing with her, breaking the show, rebuilding it, it’s made this next chapter stronger than ever.
Magdalena’s story is outrageous, hilarious, and raw—what do you hope audiences take away from her joyful chaos?
More than anything, I hope they walk away feeling the way she makes me feel; powerful, seen, and SO alive. Magdalena reminds me, every time I step into her skin, that no matter what you’ve been through, how you look, or how broken you feel, your voice is valid. She teaches you to be, as she says in the show ( and in a very strong French accent), “Grateful for the shit and also for the not-so-shit.”
She makes me feel funny, sexy, courageous, daring, kind. Like I could start a revolution and still have time for a good fuck after. And I want that for the audience too. Sure, I want them to laugh, but I also want them to feel confused, shaken, moved and maybe even carry a little bit of Magdalena liquid courage inside them (pun fully intended).
At its core, this show is about embracing chaos, rejecting the norm, and saying: I deserve more than this and no, I will never be silenced. It’s not my life story, but it speaks to something we all know, the desire to be loved, to be heard, to fuck up gloriously and come back stronger. It’s joyful, it’s messy, it’s real and I hope that’s what stays with them.
How did your Marseille and East London roots influence the wild spirit and aesthetic of this piece?
Marseille runs through my veins, it’s my birthplace, my blood. Anyone who’s ever been knows it’s a city of beautiful contradictions: total chaos and sudden peace. Magdalena is absolutely born of that energy. She’s fire and stillness, grit and glamour. She is also loosely expired by the Marseille archetype of the Cagole. Not quite who Magdalena is, but definitely in the same family. A Cagole is bold, unapologetic, a little trashy but in the best way. She might be wearing a thong and see through top, but if you mess with her, she will bite your head off.
East London… that one’s trickier. I’ve mostly lived East, but it’s not just about geography. It’s about the grind. London itself is relentless. The rhythms, the cost of living, the way people survive here, working 15000 different zero hour contracts for shitty pay and no security while still trying to make art. I guess that’s what shaped me as an artist and has filtered through the character of Magdalena. Not giving up. Working multiple jobs. Writing and rewriting a script a thousand times. Applying for funds, venues, platforms. Being told no. But still applying again. Being told maybe. And then being completely ghosted. London is about struggling and still showing up. And I think that’s where East London (or London more widely) lives in this piece.
From clowning and drag to confessions in corrupted cathedrals, this show mixes a lot—how do you balance comedy with vulnerability?
Honestly, I don’t really think about “balancing” them, I just try to tell the story and put on a good show. That’s the goal. Clowning, by nature, already lives in that space between laughter and pain. I think big laughs only hit when you’ve seen the character fall. You have to feel their heartbreak, their ridiculousness, their shame otherwise it’s just noise. Magdalena is full of those highs and lows, often within seconds of each other, and I think that’s where the magic happens.
Dan, my director, has a real gift for feeling out that rhythm. He’s not academic (neither of us are) but he deeply understands emotions and structure. He’ll look at a scene and instinctively know where to push the comedy and where to let something break open. He’s great at making sure nothing feels too safe or too polished.
What has been the most surprising moment for you while performing Magdalena in unexpected places like cabarets or Christmas parties?
There’s a lot of audience interaction in these skits, and that’s always a wild card. You never know who’s in the front row, how far you can go, or what’s going to come out of your own mouth in the moment. But those are hands down the best bits. They make each night unique. Improvisation is improvisation, so no matter how much you try to structure it, it always has a mind of its own. And that’s the beauty of Magdalena. She lives in that space of unpredictability.
You’ve been shaping this show through sketch comedy, festivals, and ensemble work—what made now the right moment to bring her centre stage at Playhouse East?
There are a few reasons why now felt right. Unfunded fringe theatre is tough, we’ve had years of false starts and bad luck. But Dan and I always knew we’d come back to Magdalena. We just needed time to rewrite, mature, play, and figure out how to do it properly, with the right people.
The story’s never stopped feeling relevant though. If anything, it hits harder now. The themes at the heart of the show (resistance, womanhood, autonomy, tolerance, love, violence…) matter more than ever.
And now we’ve got the right team and the right space. Playhouse East have backed us from the beginning. Vita, the artistic director of the space, saw one of the first ever versions of the character at a cabaret in 2018, and they supported our first work-in-progress at Actors East. That kind of support has made all the difference, it’s what’s allowed us to finally do the show the way we always wanted.
She’s back. And she’s louder than ever.
The show invites the audience into Magdalena’s world in a very personal way—what’s your relationship like with the people in the front row?
Well, first of all, it’s not just the front row! Wherever you sit, you might get invited to take part in the action. The relationship with the audience is a bit like saying: You’re next. Don’t get too comfortable, because this isn’t a passive experience. I like to play, and I like to invite the audience to play too. It’s more like: Come and have a tickle. Come and have a taste. Just for a moment. Bringing someone on stage, even briefly, is like inviting them to walk in Magdalena’s world, even if just for a heartbeat. Even if the story is fictional, the themes are real. And breaking that barrier reminds people: this isn’t just happening in front of you, it’s happening with you. Come have fun!
What’s it been like collaborating so closely with director Daniel Kettle, and how has that creative relationship shaped the final piece?
Working with Dan has shaped everything. He’s been there since the very beginning, he saw Magdalena come to life back at drama school and sometimes he knows her better than I do. That kind of history brings a real consistency and depth to the work.
We’ve built this piece together over years. He’s not just a director, he’s a dramaturg, a creative partner, and one of my closest friends. He pushes me in all the right ways, especially in the writing. Giving me confidence when I need it and the space to be brave and believe in myself as a creative. His approach is also completely devoid of ego. It’s not about him, or even about me. It’s about the work. It’s about telling a story that is heartfelt and compelling. Sure, we enjoy ourselves during the process, you need that to keep going. But it always comes back to ‘what makes the work good’. And I love that about his approach.
Luckily, this time around, we’ve had the space to properly dig into the script and actually stage it the way we’ve always wanted to. No last-minute chaos, no shortcuts.
This show is the strongest it’s ever been because of that. Because we’ve made it together, from the start.