You are going to read an article about being a living statue.
Seven sentences have been removed from the article.
Choose from the sentences A-H the one which best fits each gap (19-24).
Mark your answer on the answer sheet. There are two letters which you do not need.
There is an example at the beginning (0).
I was a living statue
Standing still for hours, not talking and not moving. It’s certainly not the easiest way to make a living. (0) Nevertheless, I am about to make my debut as a living statue. I’ll be standing on a box in Covent Garden, and hopefully the audience will put money into my hat. Ed Ferguson, 42, has been standing still professionally for 18 years. He and his wife Pamela perform for corporate events and parties, coated head to toe in gold, silver or bronze body paint. “To actually do it full time is quite strenuous.
. We do up to an hour and a half per set. That’s the maximum you could do.” I ask Ed for some tips. “Try not to let people see your eyes flicker, or your chest move,” says Ed. Sadly, unlike him, I’m not blessed with a heart rate of 24bpm – so slow you can barely detect he has a pulse.
. Ed can remain so still you’d swear he was made of stone. However, it’s not just about standing still.
. “If you do something spectacular, it amazes people.” Ed says that to be any good, you have to get inside a character; his regular Covent Garden incarnation, a chimney sweep, is “a grumpy old man”. Ed’s realistically unreal costumes take him weeks to make; I have three days. Three days to make a costume, discipline myself to be motionless and work on some audience-pleasing actions. The day of my performance dawns and I arrive at Covent Garden. To my relief, there is only one statue out working. At the weekend, especially in summer, all five of the council-approved pitches will be occupied.
. “One morning when I came here,” says Ed, “I saw a big pile of gold paint and silver paint, and blood in the middle – someone was hospitalised.” As I step onto my plinth, I follow Ed’s advice and keep my eyes lowered to hide my blinking and my hands loosely clasped so they won’t sway or ache. I feel strangely relaxed, yet focused, and I’m keen to be seen – a shameless though silent exhibitionist. At first I’m very pleased with my success. One person thinks I actually am a statue.
. I even start thinking perhaps I should move so they realise it’s a performance and I start earning. But then a child nervously runs up with 20p. I bow, and his mum takes a picture. A fashionably dressed Japanese lad puts some coins into my hat; I bow, and they take pictures. A man stops by twice, loudly praising me. He would apparently like a picture of me in his house, as I’m “amazing and creepy”. I concentrate on keeping still.
. How rude, I think – until I realise it’s Ed, telling me, to my disbelief, that my hour is up.
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