I recently had the opportunity to see Judy Collins perform at the Massey Theatre in New Westminster. I was impressed with her vitality and wit at the age of 86 — talking and telling jokes between songs.

What struck me most, though, was her rendition of Send in the Clowns where she exuded such presence.   So much so that the day after the concert, I began reading more about the song — a song that I’ve known for years but had never really looked at closely.

Original Meaning

Traditionally, the phrase “send in the clowns” was used literally by the ringmaster in circus performances when something went wrong. The clowns’ job was to distract the audience and ease the tension with humour until the show could go on.

In the 1973 musical A Little Night Music, Stephen Sondheim drew on this phrase deliberately. In the musical, an aging actress meets again with a love interest after many years apart. Believing they might rekindle their romance, she proposes that they build a life together. To her shock, he declines — he feels bound by his marriage and unable to accept her offer.

In that moment of heartbreak and bad timing, she sings “Send in the Clowns,” giving the phrase a whole new, deeply metaphoric meaning. It becomes not a reference to circus clowns, but a reflection on those moments in life when the best we can do is acknowledge our own folly and heartbreak with grace.

New Meaning

Judy Collins included a cover of the song on her 1975 album Judith, and it became a major hit. The following year, in 1976, Stephen Sondheim won the Grammy Award for Song of the Year, and Judy Collins was nominated for Best Pop Vocal Performance for the song.  Her recording brought the song into popular consciousness — she’s the reason “Send in the Clowns” became a household phrase, rather than just a show tune.

Over time, the expression entered common speech as a kind of bittersweet recognition — used when life’s timing feels painfully off, or when a moment meant to be joyful turns quietly ironic.

Where Life Mirrors Art

There was an added layer of irony that night at the Massey Theatre. As Judy sang, she suddenly stopped and had a full-blown coughing fit. She said she thought she was over a recent cold, but clearly she wasn’t. Yet she held herself with such steadiness — the seasoned professional she is — and once the moment passed, she continued beautifully.

At the end of the show, she received a standing ovation from an appreciative audience.

Shared Humanity

Hearing her sing through that moment — the cough, the pause, the quiet re-gathering of herself — showed me something deeper than professionalism. It wasn’t that performers have mishaps; everyone does. It was the way she met the moment: steady, unhurried, without apology or rush. She simply stayed with herself until she was ready to continue. That quiet presence moved me more than anything else that night.

I hope that when my own “send in the clowns” moments arrive, I can meet them the same way she did that night: steady, human, unashamed, and willing to carry on with a full heart.