The clown strips down: Alberto José Lucena reveals what’s behind the jokes – in four nude images (EXCLUSIVE)
As a dancer and clown, Alberto José Lucena works with his six-and-a-half-foot frame to tell stories and to make people laugh
My name is Alberto José Lucena, and I’m 35 years old.
I currently live in Madrid. I moved here about two years ago. I didn’t come with many expectations, but the city has welcomed me, both personally and professionally. It’s a very friendly city with a great cultural scene.
I am a freelance artist, dancer, clown and performer. I love working with the absurd and the tender. Only recently have I started to recognise myself as a clown. What I used to call “doing silly things” has become part of my professional practice.
A clown wins by losing, and knowing how to lose is a skill. Being silly and making people laugh with absurd things is something I never used to value, and now I feel it’s my superpower.
My biggest references have always been drag queens. I feel like I “drag” myself into this two-metre-tall character who’s equal parts cute and gross. I love that my work brings me into the present moment, and that I can share it with people.
Before that, I had been teaching dance since I was 20. I love teaching, but I love performing more – so I chose to move into performing when I realised that what I was doing didn’t fulfil me, and that being in my element meant being on stage. Sometimes I run workshops, but they are more focused on refining the experience of being present and on giving tools for being on stage, rather than regular technical dance classes.
However, being on stage isn’t always incredibly rewarding. It can be very demanding, especially when you’re alone and it’s your own piece. Some days you feel like you’ve touched glory, and other days you just have to try not to torture yourself. You also learn to put things into perspective and remember that you’re only human.
My working schedule changes a lot, depending on whether I’m working on one of my own projects, performing for another director, or creating movement for a production.
I pay a lot of attention to my creative practice: I meditate, I write, and then I work with movement and improvisation, following things that make me feel excited, even if they seem very absurd.
The biggest challenges are the lack of support for creating live performance, the uncertainty of projects, and the fact that all the work always seems to happen at the same time, so you have to juggle everything.
I have a silent comedy show called TO BE SHOW, in which I’m alone on stage with no props at all – just a spotlight and the audience, with no music. Since 2023, it’s been touring across Spain, Slovenia and Germany. I also performed it in Istanbul, Turkey, in 2023. In 2024, it won the Best New Show award at the 15th Andalusian Dance Awards. I’m currently working on my new piece, PAJARITO – a dance monologue in which I tell a story, working with the ordinary, the absurd and the tender. It premieres at Madrid’s Surge Festival this October.
I also work as a performer and dancer for different directors: on Luz sobre las cosas by Guillermo Weickert, Casi ninguna verdad at Madrid’s National Drama Centre with Cris Blanco, and I’m currently working with Chey Jurado, with whom we’re premiering Marea Weekend at Madrid’s Autumn Festival.
I was born in Girona, but I grew up in Jerez de la Frontera, in Andalusia. My childhood was happy. I remember spending a lot of time playing outside, going to the park, riding my bike, and playing with my friend Sarah’s Barbie dolls.
As a young child, I felt comfortable being myself. It maybe became more uncomfortable when as a teenager I was very tall and very skinny, and I started standing out because of my height. People were always pointing it out, either as a compliment or as a joke. It makes you feel very exposed to the world.
As an adult, I am very comfortable with my height – I am six foot six – and I do have little eureka moments – like dancing with people my height, or having conversations with people as tall as me. It feels unusual and strange, but at the same time I find a lot of comfort in it.
Sometimes, people ask me if I’m into tall guys, and I’m like, “I don’t know. I’ve never really been used to it.” I’d love to experience not having to look down at people all the time!
This is a section of a feature appearing in the September/October 2026 issue of Attitude, available on digital platforms and in print now.