Your Mind Matters – Steve Best, Comedy Snapshot

Hello, my name's Dr. Maria Kempinska, and I am absolutely delighted to have my guest on today's program. His name is Steve Best, and he is a fantastic comedian. But during his time of perform— you know, perfecting the art of comedy, he actually found that he was a brilliant photographer. And having worked on the comedy circuit, as some of you know who know me, um, I created Jongleurs and worked with all the best comedians, including Steve. Um, he started taking photographs of comedians, and majority of comedians have never had photographs taken of themselves. You know, in the music industry, people pop along and take photographs. There were one or two people that did the occasional photograph, but nothing that created the library that Steve has. So I am delighted that Steve said yes to talking to me after all this time. And the fact is he's still performing as an artist, as a comedian, but his photography has really excelled. And, um, so without me going on too much, I want to just ask you, Steve, just to say welcome. And let's just start off, you— when did you start in comedy? When did you start performing? Oh, it's lovely to be here, first of all. And before, I've never done anything else. It's quite strange. I've never had a job, never gone for an interview. So I came out of my A-levels. I was a kind of a straight-A student, and then I got obsessed with magic. A friend gave me a magic set, and I just loved performing magic, juggling, kind of circus skills. So really, when I started, when I was 18, 19, And then I should have gone to university and I kind of just went on a Somerset circuit, this kind of in Exeter, I based myself in Exeter and just went round, you know, Newquay, Torquay, all those places just gigging. And then I came onto the London circuit. So a long time ago, must have been, the original question must have been about 28, 29, 30 years ago or something. Yeah, 'cause Paul Martin, he was Paul Martin then, Paul Merton, gave me his original performance tape. Actually, it was a cassette that he did and he was at university. So lots of students did come through that way. And I remember Paul handing me the cassette and said, "Oh, can I do an open spot?" So, you know, and it's great because it does take time also, like Peter Kay, He started preparing to be a comedian when he was a teenager. But why magic? What did you find about it? Well, magic just— it was more the kind of performing arts. I think my parents— we didn't have a TV when we were growing up, which is quite strange. And so, uh, my parents were really into comedy records, LPs. So we had— we listened to in an evening rather than watching television. We were listening to The Goons and And I'm Sorry I Read It Again and some of the kind of classic kind of comedy LPs. And my mum was a very funny person. She was an artist. My dad was a kind of mathematician. And that kind of merging of things. And I've got a twin brother. We always kind of class clowns in the classic class clown kind of thing. And but I think something about magic really, I was just, I just loved it. I don't know what it was. I think the mystery and and the performance skills and all this stuff. So I got very much into that stuff and it was just coincidental that a friend had a box of magic tricks and I took hold of them and just got obsessed. I have an obsessive nature, I think. So I got obsessed with performing and then I juggled. I used to juggle an hour before going to school and then come back and then juggle another hour or 2 hours. So once I got into something, I wanted to do it really well. You're another Steve Rawlings, the juggler. Absolutely. I mean, he was at the Jongleurs, I think, originally. I remember originally Jongleurs to me— I know we're getting going off on tangents here, but that the— I remember Jongleurs being much more of a kind of cabaret and not just stand-up, and that was the beauty of it. I think some of it's kind of coming back now, but not as much as it was. I think it was such an eclectic kind of act. Talking about juggling, it's so good for the brain, isn't it? I think so. I think it's good, just a little bit of an exercise as well and coordination and all this stuff. So maybe, yeah, the brain. So you said that you, your mother loved comedy, and I think this is a misnomer that people have about women. A lot of comedians and I've looked at, you know, sort of including people like Robin Williams, he used to entertain his mother. And there's a lot of comedians that did have that sort of relationship with their mother. That either they were funny, they enjoyed humor, or they wanted to entertain her as well and keep that humor going. And, you know, I wrote a PhD, and in that I was talking about how that aspect of the male psyche is sort of more like the peacock. I don't mean the peacock is preening and everything, but it is a way to attract women. And a lot of women do prefer men who are funny, don't they? Well, isn't that the classic saying of the sense of people, women like a sense of humor? Yeah, maybe that's true. I don't know if that can be. Maybe. I mean, I think my mum was quite an interesting character actually, because she was very quite politicized as well at the time. So she was very anti-Thatcher at the time. And she— but she was also— she kind of had no— she was very carefree. So she'd, you know, be embarrassing for us as kids because she would run down the street dancing or something like that, just whatever took her fancy. My dad was very straight-laced in a way. They kind of come from a much more straight-laced kind of family, so it was quite a weird connect, you know, them getting together in a way, which was lovely. So you have a very kind of, uh, kind of mathematical person and a very arty person. So yeah, but I don't know whether I was trying to impress I think it was my brother. My twin brother was very funny. He was mostly funnier offstage, and I don't think he could translate to going onstage with how funny he was in the pub or, you know, those kind of surroundings. And I'm very quiet backstage and quiet offstage as well to my friends. So I often don't get recognized because even if I'm performing, I can be onstage and come to the bar afterwards and people won't recognize, put two and two together and think that was the person on stage. 'Cause I go a bit manic on stage, so it's kind of a therapy thing, maybe. Yeah. No, it's an expression, you know, again, in psychological types, I did that study and most comedians I found were introverts. So you save that moment on stage and you use it as a performance skill. But when you do perform on stage, how do you switch? Do you go step into a personality, you know, like Al Murray is the classic, isn't it? Al started off as somebody totally different when he started on the circuit, and then he found that his pub landlord really worked. Is that— Al Murray's a hugely intelligent guy, and I think, well, I think a lot of comedians, uh, are very intelligent people. Not saying I am, but I think a lot of people are. And I think, well, I remember Al Murray beginning, he used to do sound effects, didn't he? I remember him doing opening boots of cars and, and, and machine guns. Not quite like Chris Luby, as you remember Chris Luby, but I think, but Al Murray, the pub landlord, is a character, isn't it? I think he goes into a character. I mean, I was talking to Ria Lina the other day. I'm just trying to do this kind of YouTube channel and photographing comedians while I interview them. So I'm getting someone to film me and I saw Ria extension and she is Ria offstage, but Ria Lina onstage. So she is just an extension of who she is. But it is a kind of a character still. So I think when I go on stage, it's just an extension of who I am. But I think I'm a bit more carefree and I can go a bit manic on stage. So it is the same character, but it is a different character in another way. Does that make sense? So it's an extension of part of you? Yes, it has to be. I think it has to come from some kind of truth. I think, I think if you're just maybe just a joke teller, which I do do jokes, but some of the mannerisms is very much an extension of myself. So, and I think if you just tell jokes, I don't think there's not— there's nothing of you in there. So I sometimes get a bit bored with— I mean, you enjoy the makeup of how the jokes are written and how clever they are. Sometimes you laugh at, you know, how jokes are written. But I think the really good acts are the ones that have something of themselves in there, obviously. So, so Al Murray, I don't— with Al Murray, maybe, I don't know, the pub landlord is a character, so it might not be him in there, but he might be showing what that kind of landlord is as a character. Yeah, or a part of, or somebody he recognized as a younger person, or that, that, that part of himself. Um, and it's quite interesting. So you now take photographs, you go to— obviously, do you take photographs when you're performing? And not at the same time, obviously, but when you're there, do you say, oh, can I just take a photograph of you? How did you get to that point? Because 'cause you've got some amazing names, haven't you? You know, like Omid Djalili, Alan Davis, you know, you've got John Bishop, Graham Norton, Ben Elton, but Alexei Sayle. And you know, out of all of them who are amazing performers, and I've worked with all of them, your Alexei Sayle is quite a profound photograph 'cause you capture him at the side of the stage and you've got that sort of darkness all around that the stage will give and just him there in the middle, and he was one of the forerunners of stand-up comedy, wasn't he? Absolutely. That kind of picture shows— there's a similar one-ish of one of, like, Mike Gunn through the curtains at the Hammersmith Apollo, and there's like 3,500 people in front of him, but it's just him on his own with a light shining on him. It's quite a lonely picture. And the same with Alexis Sayles, one is quite lonely picture in a way, and I think that is kind of slightly epitomizes what stand-up is in one sense, although it's a joyful thing to watch as a punter, as an audience member. So for someone like Alexis Sell, so I was— I had initially I was gigging and I had a little camera with me and I just shot backstage because people knew me absolutely as a stand-up, not as a photographer. It's slightly changed now, especially with the newer generation of comedians. They don't know me as a stand-up. They just know me as a photographer, which is quite an interesting way of doing things now, because the whole point was that people would drop their guard, like, not drop— I didn't want them to— I didn't want to— I don't want to be a voyeur in a way, but I also wanted to get them to realize, to not think that I was taking pictures of them. So they were very natural backstage pictures. So but initially my first little book was Comedy Snapshot and they were just snapshots, portraits of comedians. And then I'd ask them for a joke and 4 or 5 facts. That was the contract between us. If they answered those questions, they were in the book. Um, and it was kind of like the Bible of the circuit in a way, the first one, Comedy Snapshot. And if— because, because that was really a cross-section, people I'd worked with, people like Joe Brandley, Matt, you know, people who've become ultra famous, and other people who are just starting out, or people— one or two people have passed on since then as well. Um, and it, it was That was really a little snapshot. And then I did another one, Joker Face, which is very similar to that. So there's about 500 comedians. So in all, in all of those two little books, there's about 1,000 comedians, which is, you know, people think, oh, are there that many? But you know that there's thousands, isn't there, really? There are. But, you know, coming back to the loneliness, is that, you know, and that whole question of are comedians depressed? Everybody says that, oh, you know, that comedians are depressed, which we'll get onto in a minute. But the loneliness is quite a profound way of being, isn't it? Because you are exposed. There is nothing, no art form quite like the art form of stand-up comedy, is there? No. I mean, that's in a way the pure— people think the purest of stand-up is a person and a microphone on stage. I mean, I kind of like— there are other people like myself and Steve Rawlings, people out there who slightly cheated in a way because we had props. And a guitar or whatever, but in essence it's still the same. You're on your own, exactly, you know, you know, in front of an audience. You live or die in that moment. So yes, it is in a way it's a lonely thing, but I think the circuit as such as a stand-up circuit, and I think again I think that's changed to become even more lonely, but beforehand at least you had clubs like Jongleurs, like the Glee Club, or the Comedy Store where you have weekends away, so you'd spend 3 nights somewhere and you'd— there would be that kind of friendship between 3 acts or 4 acts just for that weekend, and you might not see them again for another year. So, and I think those kind of clubs are less and less now. I mean, Jongleurs was a big part of it in one sense because you had, what, 16, 17 clubs around the place. Yeah, plus theatres and cruises and all sorts. So that's another story which is quite interesting in its own right, but Coming back to how you as a personality and as a performer and a husband now and a father, you know, how did you cope going on stage being so exposed? How did you cope with— and all comedians, let's be very clear about this, and I want everybody who's listening to understand, all comedians fail at some point. All comedians die, as we call it, on the stage. And they can't take that too personally if they want to carry on. You've just got to keep coming back. But how did you do that? How do you deal with those moments? That's a good question actually, because I think that some comedians, people, personas, you know, can ultimately take it differently. I mean, me personally, I'm not that thick-skinned, so I found it quite hard actually So, but as you, as you over the years, you become more thick-skinned and you just think, oh, that's just another gig, it's fine. It is, you know, you do pressurize yourself into, into kind of, um, because ultimately you've got to do well, otherwise you wouldn't get booked back again. In the old days, you have to do a certain amount of wellness to, to, to get booked back on these clubs. So that was your living. I think people's livings. You could make a very good living out of being just a stand-up on the circuit, um, 20-odd years ago. I think it's much harder now just doing that, but that we can talk about that later. But, but me personally, I mean, I had some times at the beginning where, you know, it didn't quite click. And, and again, it's very— in the first 30 seconds, if the audience, they can sense something, they don't quite sense that you're— maybe you're nervous, or they sense that there's something wrong, they'll go for you. I mean, play clubs like Up the Creek is a famous one where you've got literally 30 seconds to prove your worth, whether you're funny, and sometimes you're not feeling right or something's not working and it just doesn't click. And then it's a struggle. It's really hard. And, you know, it's devastating because you're with your peers as well. They're watching you. So, you know, a lot of comedians quite revel in the idea of another comedian dying on stage because they quite find it quite funny because they know that You know, it's kind of gallows humor in a way, isn't it? So, but personally, over the years, you would, you would at the beginning be devastated and it'd be very hard to come back the next day and do another gig. But now I don't put as much importance to it. Now it's fine. It's— people can love you or hate you. It's fine. You know, I'd like to— I think Sarah Millican had a good one, didn't she? I can't remember her saying that. We'll have to work it out somewhere. Where she says you can only think about it until 11 o'clock or something like that that night, and then it's another day or something. Something. Yeah. Which is, you know, I think if you can be disciplined like that, but as you say, some people take things more to heart. I've known comedians who just, that's it. If they die on stage, they never come back. They've done their trial and it's too painful for them. So whatever has happened to them has happened. But coming back to that moment, so, and as I say, all comedians have gone through this. Anybody who's been on stage, You know, I did 10-minute stand-up for charity actually, and I did it in, uh, Covent Garden, one of our clubs, and it was in front of 250 people. And what I was so pleased about doing that, it's such a different experience to what you think it's going to be. Interesting. Okay, why? What? Because the whole experience is almost— time is exaggerated. You're almost in a capsule that, that 10 minutes becomes almost like a year because you are so— I was so aware of the audience every moment there. I was so— I did it within 6 weeks, by the way, but I was so conscious of what I had been viewing for the past 30 years of comedians getting up on stage and what was needed to be done. And I knew that there was going to be that sort of spotlight on me, but I knew I was doing it for charity. So to some extent I was getting away with stuff. But I wanted nevertheless for myself to be good enough, you know, to try it out as an art form. But it's the, you know, what does your mind think about? How do you cope with somebody shouting out? Because when you're on stage for that 20 minutes, very often there's a lot that goes on with the audience that you've got to assess, haven't you, when you're performing. So do you change your material around according to the audience? When you're halfway through, or do you stick to your routine? I think as you, as you, as throughout the years, you kind of stick. I mean, I personally do, but there's other people who are very good at kind of improvising the scene and the whole act is about what happens in the audience. I have set pieces and set jokes, but saying that, I think you, as you get better at it, you very much play around with what's going on as well. I mean, you wouldn't ignore someone getting up and walking across or you just got to, you've got to do something or say something. And within character, my character on stage, I just go for it. I don't mind anymore. I think that you learn how to assess the situation and play with the situation. But I think that comes with stage time. There's very few comedians, I think, who— I think there's a lot of people who've got very funny bones and need to learn the profession by doing it. But there's a few people I think are more or less straight out of the box. Have something very innately understanding of what's funny. Or, you know, I remember seeing Johnny Vegas, for example, and there's just something about him and how he understands what's going on more than anybody. People like— there's a few people like that that you just think, wow, they've got something that's just— and I actually teach at Middlesex University at the moment. They do a drama course. On the third year, they do the comedy module. So I help on that, been doing that for 6, 7 years. And there's just every so often there's a few people that you just think, wow, you know, they've only been doing the module for 3 months, but there's something inside them that you think that they just understand something that you can't teach in a way. Yeah, it's so interesting because I really believe since I did my 10 minutes and it was a very intense 10 minutes, by the way, that you can be taught your way, or you can delve in to find your way of being funny. And with somebody like you, you are automatically warm and people want to like you and they, you know, you give them feedback and you, you are a natural entertainer like that. But as you say, some standups when they're verbal, they can put people off. Oh, absolutely. I think there's, there, there, there are, um, I, there are people who are fantastic writers. Yeah, but there's something about their manner, the way they are, that they're not great performers. And I, I think that I, I've got something that I do think that when it works, I, I'm a good— for great— good performer. But I've been lazy, I think, over the years. And I think that's— you've got to put everything together to become very successful. You've got to constantly not worry about being rubbish, knowing that you're on a bit longer journey. I think, you know, that, you know, people like Izzard, you know, there's this story that he was dying on his bum, you know, a lot at the beginning and he was finding his voice. And once he got that voice, you know, he— but he didn't mind. McIntyre is another example. I remember playing Jonglers with him and he did a different set every night. I mean, he did very well every night. But the fact is that he was trying out different things, didn't worry if things failed, really. He had a bigger path. I think there were acts like myself maybe who had a really strong 20, 25, 30 minutes or something like that, but were a bit scared, fearful of, of, of not doing well on one night. And that's, that's a problem, I think. Yeah, totally. And that really can take over and it is a fear. Isn't it? I was so— by the time I went, at the beginning when I was asked, I, I was told, you know, can you do this? Which I did. And then as I got closer to the time, I became myopic. I was like, what have I done? Why am I doing this? And, um, it was just the most— I mean, you know, I, I don't do skydiving and things like that, but that to me is not as fearful as doing something on stage. And I think, and you know, sort of, um, the whole process includes your performance, how you express yourself, how you want the audience to perceive you, but also coming off stage and being in the green room, as you say, other comedians. What's the worst experience you've had with other comedians? Um, I don't generally, um, But going back to— quick, go back to the, the fear thing. I think they do say that, isn't public speaking one of the, one of the most— yeah, I mean, apart from— I think that's more number one or number two, isn't it? But, um, I think generally the circuit has been a very, uh, friendly, uh, uh, kind of supportive environment. I really do. I, I don't know, there's a kind of a new circuit now where there's kind of a lot just open spot nights. I think in the old days you would be a part of a professional night if you were trying out stuff. Now there are bringer gigs, there's open spot gigs just solely for that, and I think there might be a bit more competitiveness. I think there's always, you know, people are competitive in their nature as stand-ups. You want to do well, you want to get to the top, but I've never— I don't remember any horrible problems backstage Because I think normally there's either people quite stressed about going on or you've got people coming off who are quite relieved that they've, they've come off. So there's quite a mixture of emotions going on. I mean, that's what I try and capture. I think my favorite shots when I'm doing the photo with the photography are those kind of mixtures. There's one really lovely, one of my favorite, one of my first ones. And then when I realized this is quite a nice thing to do is Michael Fabry and I can't remember his name now, but it was, it was, it was a gig. It'll come to me, the name. It was a gig in a bowling alley up in Lincolnshire or something like that. I mean, it's a terrible idea because it only lasted a few gigs, but Michael Fabri had finished and he was— he's lying on the couch in the dressing room and you could see in his face that he's just finished and he's really happy and he's smiling. And then the other guy about to go on, his head's against the wall and looks really stressed. And I like that there's two things going on. So there's a lot of kind of emotions going on backstage. But I haven't— I mean, you must have seen— have you seen kind of— I haven't seen any fights or anything like that, really. Yeah, I have seen fights, but not necessarily backstage. Right. It's sort of— I think most of the comedians were sort of just nice. What about depression? Let's talk about that. You know, did you feel that in your experience comedians are depressed and that's why they do stand-up comedy? Um, not— I mean, I'm friends with people who have got a persona on stage that is quite depressing, you know, depressing. Like Mike Gunn is a good mate of mine, and you know, he used to be the funeral director, uh, and then so— but there's people's persona on stage which is quite depressing. I suppose Jack Dee in a way is another example. Um, so it's quite, quite low status. Um, is it low state? No, it's quite high status, isn't it? I can't remember who it is, but the fact is, it doesn't— unless you're matey and friends with comedians on the circuit, you don't see that side of it. Because I think when you come to a gig, people are kind of either gearing up to go on stage or they're coming off. You don't see depression. Personally, I'm not— I'm quite obsessive person, but I'm not a depressed person. A lot of problems early on when I started. And I was asked, I went to a psychiatrist at the time and asked, I think that, I think they have to ask if I was suicidal because, because I was depressed in one sense, but it wasn't that way inclined. So, how did you know you were depressed? I started having a huge anxiety attacks for a year or 2 years. And it wasn't— was it depression? I don't think it was depression. It's more anxiety and stress. It was stress, really. So depression I haven't really had. Yeah. And how old were you and what were you doing? Were you on the circuit already? Well, I was— my— it was— I was 22. My mum became very ill when she was very young, actually. So she was She was, when she was 42, 43, um, and she, um, was ill for 6, 7, 6, 5, 6 years. And the last year she was very ill, died. But she, so she was very young when she died, when she was 49. So that was the stage when I, I was practicing the guitar. So I was into the guitar then, um, and I was playing 6, 7, 8 hours a day. I mean, I was really obsessed with the guitar, another obsession of mine. And, and it was during that time my mum was going, she was in hospital a lot. And I, my brothers had left for university, or they were, and I was at home with my dad. So every day, more or less, I was going to hospital. And it sounds kind of quite selfish in one sense, but I did that. I was really suffering. My mum was obviously absolutely suffering. But So I found that really hard and I came a lot of symptoms. I got, you know, it was actually afterwards when she died that I had all the kind of anxiety and panic attacks because I think my body was holding a lot of stress for so long and I was holding it together, really holding it together. And it was when she died that you thought, oh, I'll be better now. But in actual fact, that's when it all exploded. It all comes out because you have to keep going, don't you? What was her illness? She had ovarian cancer. Oh God. Yeah, yeah. So, uh, it's a long time to suffer, isn't it? Yeah, I think the first 3 or 4 years she was going through operations and, and treatment and all this stuff, but it was, you know, the last year— I mean, we were young and didn't understand. We should have done the kind of more the terminology of— we— no one ever said it was kind of terminal at any stage. So, you know, so it was and it was obvious it was. But, um, yeah, do you think that would have made you feel better if you knew? Is it helpful to know? Um, I'm not sure. I think that the problem was what I didn't see, kind of, any help from doctors or counseling until afterwards. And I think it would have been helpful if we'd got that, if I got that during and talked about it then, I suppose. But it was kind of this kind of never talked about thing, really. Yeah. And do you know, in many ways, Steve, it's, you know, you're touching on something that's so profound in our society and with people that in various cultures, they deal with death in a different way. And they talk about it and they have this respect. At the moment, we've lost that to some extent. And people talk about the option to die, and so on, but they don't talk about how to manage it and the family how to manage it. You know, I think there was a slight problem as well because we grew up in the Jewish tradition as well, where, um, it's actually quite a closed society in one sense because once someone dies, then the community does get involved. Yeah. And they have, you know, they sit shiva, and so they come around for, I think it's 7 days afterwards, to say prayers and all this stuff. But the problem with that is that I'm not religious, and, um, although I was brought up in an Orthodox way, I had my bar mitzvah and all this stuff. I kind of lost everything then. And so if you don't accept that, then you've got nothing else. There's no other kind of support. Yeah, but don't you think it's also because I've actually cooked for people on Shiva? Because although, you know, sort of the family was sitting in the other room, we came in to cook and then left. And it was a friend of a friend. And, you know, I'm very respectful of that process. But is it also that people expect, you you to get over it. That's it. And now let's move on. But as you say, death sometimes just doesn't hit somebody immediately. It takes a while to actually make sense of this. And I don't know if one ever can make sense of it unless you really talk about it there and then or even afterwards. And, and, and the problem is, is that our— so yes, in the Jewish tradition, it's mostly accepted that once you've done that, then that's— and you're religious and you believe what's going on afterwards, then that's all fine because your brain kind of— but if you don't, then you are a bit stranded, very stranded. I was. And, and it manifests in different ways for different people. I think my brother had terrible back problems, uh, because he's really into karate, you know, he's very good, but he all spasmed up and all this stuff. And I don't know how my dad and my older brother how it manifests. But me, I found it really hard. And I did go to the doctors afterwards and they were very, they kind of okay in the sense of, you know, give you some counseling, all this stuff. It didn't quite work. And if it didn't quite work, then that was it. You didn't go on to someone else. And I should have done. But then I went the Eastern way. I went into kind of shiatsu and acupuncture and, and I really, that really helped. But, and eventually come out the other end years later where you think both things can help. So I shunned the Western side of things for a while and just went the Eastern way and, you know, meditation and all this stuff. But it's still, you know, it— and I read recently, very recently, that there was a case that one can have kind of PTSD in a way. Because— and I don't know how, you know, I don't know if this is true or not, but I'd like to delve into that to see because, you know, throughout my life afterwards, the kind of anxiety has reared its head, and I never had it before. So that must be the catalyst, and it, you know, it was buried quite deeply, and it keeps coming up every so often, I think. Well, there is this transgenerational— I know because my parents were prisoners of war, Polish, and my uncle was murdered in Auschwitz, and everybody says, but I didn't know you were Jewish. And I said, no, we weren't. But, you know, they were there with, you know, Jewish inmates and You know, all sorts, you know, the people, the infirmed, the, the ones that they wanted to get rid of. And my parents were prisoners of war. My father was in a gulag in Siberia. And they have generational PTSD. And sometimes I believe that can be triggered, especially if you are Jewish. And it doesn't matter whether your parents experienced it, but it can be generational. It comes through. And there's some great books about this. But in Israel, they deal with that. They have a center that deals with that. We don't have that so much over here, but I think you're quite right to note that and to say that this is what can happen, that PTSD can be resurrected almost as a memory. And the body does hold memories. And people, you know, that psychoneurology, that neurobiology that is within us all, we go back to the mind and body being connected. Which Descartes separated, you know, the mind and body was separated as a philosophy. And now we're coming back to understanding the mind and body are connected and things go on there. And I think what you're saying is so profound and so important for people to realize that sometimes when somebody dies in your family, it can trigger something so deep that you've got to try to resolve it. And it's not a case of getting rid of it, it's integrating it, it's making sense of it. Well, it's kind of like, see, you know, cognitive behavioral therapy in a way. You've got, you've got to train your brain to understand it and think differently, I think. I mean, I had a few CBD, uh, CB, uh, CB, uh, therapy, CBT. Yeah, the other one's the oil, isn't it? So I think that's quite good as well. Um, but yeah, I, um, Yes, I think, I think we, we don't talk about it. I mean, people do. There are people who, who understand it and then seek help and talk about it through. And I, and I don't think it matters how long the gap is between, between that, you know, when it, when it started. But, um, yeah, I think, I think that might— I mean, the Eastern side of things was always connecting the mind and the body. I mean, that's that. And I'm so pleased that that door has now been opened again. You know, that where, as you said, you go to do yoga, meditation, everything, and it does work. It, you've gotta find what works for you. And it is our journey. But you are a father now. How old are your children? My children are, my oldest is 16, a girl, 16, and a boy, 14. Yes. Yeah, they're great. Yeah. And do you think about them in terms of the PTSD? Do you ever think, oh, I wonder if they're going to, inherit this, or— well, I think, um, I don't know whether I was a hypochondriac before my mum, my mum. I don't think I was. We had a very good upbringing and a childhood, very fun, very, very kind of, uh, very close family, really close family. Um, uh, so, and I think we have that with our kids now as well. I think they're very close. So I don't know. I think my kids are slightly— my daughter, my daughter actually did go through a slight— we could have been a scary problem, a similar thing to my mum in a way where I was. I think she was about 8 or 9 and I was playing poker with— I'd play poker with comedians, the Mike Gunn, Mark Mayer, Hugh Thomas, and, and, you know, we do it once a week kind of thing. And then I had a phone and my daughter was, was had a pain in her arm, a bruise in her arm. And my wife is very good. She rather than go to— she went to A&E then. And I was playing poker and I just got a phone call, said come straight away. And they basically there and then diagnosed her with bone cancer. I mean, it's just, just the shock that— out of the blue, out of the blue, and she had a hole in her bone. And so for about 3 months, we were under the idea that she was going to have chemotherapy and all the stuff that goes with it. And I mean, and then when they did the biopsy, they found it was a, it was a benign thing. It's called this— they don't quite know what it was, actually. It's like a giant cell tumor, which sounds very scary, but it was benign. And so they had to clean it out and, and she had a hole in her bone. So they had to kind of put in a cast and But it, that kind of brought back, I mean, it was horrendous walking around the streets crying. I'm sure. Yeah. So I think about it now. Yeah. Yeah. It's so profound when it's your children. But tell me about your wife because she's not English, is she? No. So she come, came from the former Yugoslavia. So she was born in Bosnia, which, um, uh, it was in Zenica in Bosnia, but she, her mom is, um, a Bosnian Croat. It's very complicated. I know it is. I know. I mean, that's my part of the world. Yeah, yeah, exactly. So she was— her mum was kind of Croatian, Bosnian Croat, and her dad was Montenegrin, which is kind of Orthodox. Uh, so, but she came over as a refugee, as a— during the Bosnian— during the war, actually. But she was studying in Serbia, so she was studying in Novi Sad, um, in Serbia. It's very complicated. Her brother was one of the last people to come out of Sarajevo on a bus. On a bullet-ridden bus coming out of Sarajevo. So she came over as an asylum seeker, and— but she was doing an English degree in Novi Sad there. She did 3 out of 4 years there, so she came over without completing it. I mean, she's a very clever— she's an amazing person. So she came over and went to Greenwich, and then she did her undergrad in psychology at Greenwich University. Then she did a master's in linguistics, so she changed linguistics at UCL. Then she did a PhD at UCL. Then she did a postdoc at MIT in Boston, which is— MIT is one of the best. Yes, we know. Yeah, amazing. Yeah, so she's done very well. Now she's— at the moment now she's an associate professor in linguistics at UCL, so she's kind of an academic. Yeah. And how did you cope during that time when that shock happened? You know, you take that phone call, you rush down to the hospital. How did you both get through it? Because both of you have been through your wife in all that trauma. You've got a son to deal with. How do you cope at that moment? That's a good question. I don't know. I think you do. You just cope. I don't know what the mechanisms of the body and the mind It does go into— I know it did kind of— you do. Maybe I was thinking back to my— when, when I was younger with my mom, I suppose, just thinking, you know, I'm— we've got to get through this kind of thing. And but you don't know what would happen afterwards. Again, the build-up, all this stress in your body, what would happen if something happened, which, you know, if we came out the other end, it's great, it's fine. Although she had a scare recently, literally 2 weeks ago. So, but we went to— yeah, same thing, she had the pain there and we had an MRI. We're having an MRI, but we had X-ray and it's all fine. But it, it, it's this kind of ongoing— that's life, isn't it? There's an ongoing thing of trauma and stress that your body, I think, can deal with that. I really do think it can deal with if you've got supportive family and people around you. That's what I mean. And that's what he's— you know, you've actually created, haven't you, between you? Maybe. But I don't— do you create that, or do you think there's an innate thing of Some people can cope better and some people can't. I don't know if I can cope better. I think that you just get on with it. You don't know what's going to happen afterwards when everything relaxes. Then that's when a lot of the stuff comes out. Yeah, you go into that ability to get through it. Did you use your humor at that time with your daughter? I've always mucked around with my kids and they, you know, I'm embarrassing now. They get to when they were younger, you were very funny. But when, when they're now this age, you're embarrassing to them, you know. Oh, Dad. Yeah, yeah, that kind of thing. I still muck around. I still can't take things seriously. But at that time, that precise time, I, I, I cancelled all my gigs. I just could not face the idea of going on stage and performing. I just couldn't. And, and, and that was a similar, very similar with my mum at the time. I wasn't, I hadn't started stand-up, but I was doing kids' entertainment. Um, that's how I started. I was doing the kids shows. And at that stage, I remember not canceling the shows because, um, and I remember turning up— I mean, this is turning up in people's houses doing my performances and literally going behind my box of tricks and crying. I mean, it's just a horrendous time. But so I knew that I could not perform when I was thinking, because there was a prognosis that you should have to go— not, you know, they should have to go through this treatment. And I thought, I've got to mentally, I can't mentally go on stage and make people laugh, really. Yeah, it's sort of just opposite to what you're actually feeling. Yeah, yeah, I mean, that, that really is an— you'd have to really put on an act, wouldn't you? Oh yeah, and I just think it's too far a stretch for— you're not an actor, you're a comedian, and a comedian has to put themselves on stage. You can't actually hide that. But, um, How did she get through it? Well, when she— but then when she was younger, she was fine. I don't think we didn't— we didn't talk to her about what was going on really. It was just having a cast on operation. It was actually— tried to make it more fun about what was going on. But by then we knew that it was fine in one sense. It wasn't— it was a— but she still had to kind of see the specialist every 3 months and X-rays and just to— and then she was signed off, you know, 4 years later saying, that's fine, go away, live your life kind of thing. But I think now because she wants to go into science, into biology and cell biology and all this stuff, she, you know, she kind of understands much more about what's going on. So I don't know if that puts her in a situation. I think doctors think they've got every disease under the sun, don't they, when they train. And I'm worried that, you know, she's got my brain of being a bit more of a hypochondriac about things and getting worried about any ache or pain or, you know, whatever. So I don't know. And of course that's what she's studying. But how did your wife cope? Considering she'd been through a war? Her brother came out on the last bus. You know, you're a prisoner of war, basically you're a political refugee. It's quite a big move to make from your country into another country? How did she cope? Well, I think she copes well on the surface, but I think it's taken— it does take a toll. I think that she— her mindset, and I think she has a go at me a lot because she works so hard. And I think people from that kind of where she's come from look at us because I come from a very kind of middle-class background. And have not suffered really. I mean, the different thing with the mother thing is different, but I think generally quite middle class, quite never wanting for anything really. I mean, not rich or wealthy, but never really wanting for anything. And she's come from a place where you've just got to work for things. You can't. So she sees me sometimes and I sometimes think I'm working really hard, but in comparison, I'm not. So I think she puts everything into her work. And works and also into the future. So she's quite— how shall I put this? She'll take situations and take them into the worst scenario possible. So instead of saying, oh, everything's going to be all right, like I do, it's fine, don't worry about it, you know, she'll think, oh, this happens, what if this happens? She's quite— what's the word? I'll think of the word in a minute. It's not quite apocalyptic. Apocalyptic. But it's on that— you've got to know that these things can happen in your life. I know that feeling. Tell her I do understand that, because I think it's the part of mentality if you come from Eastern Europe, because you, you know what can happen. We've been— and I love the UK for that, you know, we are so fortunate to be here with all its— everybody has problems in every country, but we are slightly separated here. And at the moment, thank God, we're still quite cushioned. 'But I understand why she feels like that, why she goes into that mindset.' And you've got to build your safety net just in case something does go wrong worse than it's ever been anywhere else, because that's what you bring with you is the psychoanthropology of where you were brought up. What do you bring with you even though you move from one country to another? And very often if you are a refugee, you often remember your country when it was when you left. And that's a massive problem, I think. I mean, it's not a problem— is that the right word? But so her country does not exist. So she was brought up in Yugoslavia, which, which all the, all the memories and the fact that Bosnia, Croatia, uh, Montenegro were one country, although it was made up later on, you know, beforehand. But the fact is, is that when that splits, and then you've got no country really kind of to go back to. So it's— it— that's a real big problem, I think. Yeah, yeah. But I'm sure as a couple, and this is with my therapist hat on, that you are both, um, you know, two sides of a coin in a way. You've got that more or less a fair attitude, and she's got that what-ifs, what's the worst thing that can happen. And perhaps between you, you've created that family, that actually a little bit of those, the recipe that can actually work? It can, but I, you know, I think any relationship, you know, because of those extremes, in a way, she'll get very kind of exasperated with the fact that I don't plan enough or whatever. So, you know, you do every so often, I think you, well, regularly one has to come together and talk these things through. And if you leave it too long, sometimes they, can get very hard to solve kind of thing. So, but yes, I think, you know, she's— as long as we keep talking, it was very good at the moment. Yes. No, no, but I do think you're quite right. Yeah, everybody, you know, there's no perfection on this Earth. Nobody's perfect. That's why we're here. That's my belief. And I tell that to all my clients and, you know, whenever I talk to people. Nobody's perfect. We're seeking perfection, but we'll never get it here. That's our job. If you like. And with couples, it is communication, as you say. What's your son like? Does he take after you or your wife? Uh, so my son, he actually— it's funny because, yeah, my daughter looks like my wife and my son looks like me, except he's got good hair. But, um, at the moment, hopefully it skips a generation. But he, um, he's great, he's fine, he's great. He, he's kind of quite sporty, he's into basketball, he's kind of, um— I think what also was good about being with someone who's from a different culture and, you know, has a different language and everything else. So my son, actually, his first language was, was Serbo-Croatian. I'm Serbian, really, Montenegrin, because he actually— we, we kind of pushed him off to his, his Alex's, my wife's mum in Montenegro. And so he, he stayed there for like 6 months. So, and so his first language was, was Montenegrin, really. Oh, fascinating. Um, uh, so, and also I think the kids have traveled a lot and they've been to different places, and especially former Yugoslavia, they've been all over. So they've experienced different people, different languages, and I think that's quite important. I think, um, so they are quite— and they— we live in right in the center of London, you know, they travel on the tube and, and, and from an early age in a way. So they, they're quite well-rounded and And, um, yeah. Oh, excellent. So, um, coming back to your photography, you still perform, I know that, uh, which is great. So Steve Best, look out for Steve, anybody who's listening. But also your book. Yeah. You compiled— who do you— who's on your list that you haven't done? Because you've got Alan Davis speaks very highly, Shaki Khorosander, you know, you've got all— you've obviously got Dave, um, Frank Skinner and Dave Baddiel. Who else is there that you haven't taken a photograph of on stage? Well, um, I— because those two little books, I kind of went out of my way. Some of them, we were talking about Alexis Sayle, so I'd never gig with him, but I, I'm friendly with Robin Ince, who was interviewing him at a gig one time, and I said, can I— so, so I actually went out of my way to get a few people like that. There's people like Clive Anderson and, and Jack Dee and people like that who I hadn't really gigged with. So that was the problem. So now there's people like, um I mean, Michael McIntyre, who I actually knew quite well early on, I— it's very hard to get hold of him to, you know, my connections-wise. So I did take a picture of him at the Comedy Store, and that's in the book. So he's on there. So— but I haven't taken a picture of Minchin, Tim Minchin, who I'd like to take. Yeah. People like Ricky Gervais, actually, who wasn't really a stand-up. He's more of an actor, really. But that's right. So he's now created his own craft of standup. I do remember him being interviewed with Chris Rock and somebody else at the very early stage of his standup career. And I do like his present stuff. You know, I think Ricky Gervais just saved himself in my eyes. I shouldn't be too critical of standups. It's such a hard task, such a hard art. But he was sitting there and I could sense his awkwardness because he hadn't done the circuit. He hadn't, sort of done the ropes, as they say, you know, to feel what it's like. But he does super well, and he's now found his way. And, uh, you know, you've got to take, take your hat off to him. He's done well. Um, but it is, you know, quite hard going around the circuit. Do you now have— when you use your camera, do you think, oh, I've got to capture that moment? Or what's the psychology behind it? Do you think, oh, I'd like to capture that essence of that artist? Um, not necessarily of that artist. I think, I think what it is is, is I found a way of shooting on stage that I think will be different to a photographer, because I try and shoot rather than straight on. There's very few straight-on shots, because I think a photographer could come into a show, although most of you wouldn't be allowed, and take pictures. And I want to get the angle where I'm the comedian taking the pictures. So I will get, you know, I would hide in the wings of a place and shoot upwards into the light or something like that. And then I've got a lot of backstage shots. So it's not really about the person, as in if it's a famous comedian, it's more just getting a really nice shot of a moment of either this kind of interaction backstage or interaction with the audience on stage or just their mannerisms on stage. So I kind of know when a joke's ended or when it's— when the when the time is to click the shutter. But so, but there are a few comedians it'd be nice to get hold of and shoot, but that's not kind of what the project is about, documenting the comedy circuit, really. And it's never been done before in a book form, in the new book Comedians, the big art book. And that's what I really love about it, is that, you know, it's been done for theater, been done for rock and roll and but not really for comedy, 'cause no one's really had the access or the being a photographer as well. I think that's the thing. Yeah, because comedians, this is what I'm saying, you know, they go on stage, you do your 20 minutes to half an hour, some 2 hours. But leading up to that, it is an isolated one person comes into a venue. You might have done another gig somewhere else and you might do 2 at that venue or in the old days. And It's you. And so to be bothered with somebody else taking photographs, it wasn't totally that comfortable, was it, for performers? But you know what I noticed about your work is there's something about how you— because you're an artist, because you're a stand-up, you've captured that aspect of them. So you've got Al Murray with his beard just at that moment. So, you know, or Alan Davis at his best when he's smiling and less anxious. You've managed to capture people in such a good way that you could actually sort of go in deeper. As you know, when you're— when I, as an observer, and looking at photographs, which I love, is, you know, to capture so much more about them. Because before people go on stage, I used to watch them. Of course I did. And they were just pacing up and down, preparing their material. So no moment is lost for a stand-up. You know, they walk into the room, they walk into the venue, and they're looking at the audience preparing from the side. What am I going to say? Let's make sure I don't say something in the same way somebody else has. It's not like Bob Monkhouse's jokes that everybody shared jokes. It's quite different. But you don't want the same theme to be spoken about by 4 of the same comedians on stage, do you? So there's no talking. I think that's the beauty of it. And I, my manager, keep saying, don't— because I was kind of promoting the, the idea of this as, as me being a comedian with the access. But he said, you know, they are really good photographs. Say you're a really good photographer, you know, that's the, that's the angle, you know, really big it up. Because I, I think that, that— because I, I understand what's going on, I think I know what to capture, really. And I think when you say that you saw these people backstage, that in your head there's a kind of— it's a film thing in your head, but to capture the moment for Prosperity now is nice, I think, because the punters, the people out there, don't really know that side of it. You know it because that's been your world. But I think that that's what I wanted to show more, that kind of what people are going through. And you just capture that moment in time, which is, you know, sounds arty-farty, but I think that's— No, it doesn't, because that's what art is, isn't it? Yeah. That snapshot. And somehow you didn't start off by thinking, I'm going to become this wonderful photographer. Photographer, but your work is fantastic, there's no question. You have absolutely got something. Did you ever expect to be this person who's created these wonderful photographs? Not really. I think it did start off as— I think Bob Mills was saying, oh, you should do something with it. That was early on. And then, and then, and then as I was doing it backstage, and it was the kind of the first time when I went to this gallery, the Observatory Photography Gallery, who've got my exhibition at the moment, It was the guy, the owner there, who was a photographer and he understood, he taught it. He was the first person in that world to say, you've got something really special here. Not all of them, but some— there's somebody— there's some beautiful ones there. You, you, you— it's innate, there's something about it. We were talking about timing and the fact that comedy and photography have got this timing in, you know, and sometimes you can't teach it. I can teach someone how to do stand-up, the mechanics of it. Someone could teach you how to do photography, the mechanics of it. But there's something innate about being— I mean, I'm trying to blow my own trumpet here, but I don't want to. But there is something innate. I'm so pleased you are blowing your own trumpet. I always tell— I know you're not my client, but I always tell my clients, you've got to blow your own trumpet, please, because, you know, you don't need to be self-effacing when you are talented. And that talent has come from— did you expect to have this talent? Well, that's the other thing is, you know, I talk sometimes about the fact that because I always thought myself as a stand-up and then you pigeonhole yourself and say, well, that's all I do. But, but there's no reason if you're creative, why can't you do drawing or art and, and photography? It's still creative. It's still part of it. That doesn't mean— and I think the artists in the, you know, the bygone eras did that. A lot of people had different things to their bow. They didn't just be a stand-up or just be an art, you know, just paint, you know. So, yeah. Are you pleased? That you found this talent? Yes. I mean, I think my— again, going back to my wife said, you've got to monetize it, you've got to live, you know. I think that's the thing with, with the art world is it, you know, I've got to a stage now where it is actually doing, doing well. But there was a stage where the comedy circuit was kind of— oh well, you know, another, another big— an hour talk, but how it kind of fell apart really. So I know I'm so upset by that because for me, comedy in so many people's lives is a savior. You know, I absolutely— I do a stand-up comedy workshop for Brentford Football Club for men at the moment because they have a wellness center, and I started that. I know, me teaching it, but it's good actually. People are enjoying it. But, you know, um, I'll show them your photos as well down there. But for you to have found this— and you're quite right, you know, everybody needs to learn that they can be funny, is crucial— but you found another talent, and Just go through the names of your books and where people can find it, and also your website, Steve. Okay, very quickly then. So the first one was Comedy Snapshot, which was, um, 2014, and then Joker Face, um, which is much the same, uh, that's 2017. And this last one, Comedians, which is the art— fine art book in a big, big chunky book to put on your coffee table, uh, that's— and so you can all find that on my website, which is stevebest.com. Very easy. But also, and where is your exhibition? So the exhibition at the moment is in the Observatory Photography Gallery, which is in Marchmont Street in Russell Square, King's Cross area. Fantastic, and I'm going to go and have a look. And your work is phenomenal, and I'm so pleased you've managed to capture some great artists. So well done, Steve, and thank you for joining me. I'm Dr. Maria Kempinska.