Why are there clowns at The Line?

By Chad Hauge

Many of us associate the clown with over-the-top entertainment clowns we've seen in circuses or birthday parties growing up or scary clowns in movies and our nightmares. We see the painted smile and wonder what's going on underneath the paint. It's terrifying. Some of us might have been exposed to “clown ministry” and seen clowns used to get an audience to lower its guard so that a bible less on can be taught. The clown that we do at The Line is less interested in any of those types, and more interested in fulfilling the role the clown has played throughout history, which is to expose the ridiculous in everything and play around with it.


We have the clown's presence recorded as far back as Egypt's Old Kingdom's Fifth Dynasty 4,500 years ago and in China 4,000 years ago. Clowns in these kingdoms served their role primarily as court jesters and fools in the presence of kings. The Chinese clown YuSze was credited as saving thousands of lives in 300 B.C. when he teased the Emperor out of whitewashing the other side of The Great Wall. The clown moved out of the ancient royal courts and played organized socio-religious roles as time went on. From Japan to Siberia to European, and even North American Navaho, Hopi and other tribes, clowns exposed the ridiculous in authority, religion, and culture. Clowns have taken on archetypes and employed the use of make up and colorful costumes to enhance their own specific type of foolishness. We laugh at the clown because we see the truth of our own failure to be good people, set up good governments, or create good religion. We laugh because we recognize that the tragedy is that our failures are big and universal, not small and private. We also cry for this reason.

One of the great freedoms that Christ offers the world is the knowledge that we are fully and perfectly known and understood by our maker. Our best attempts at everything are laid bare and exposed as dust. We search for fig leaves and hide from God, our friends, and even ourselves. When in our most ashamed state our eyes turn toward the One we seem to want to hide from the most, we are met with super-abundant grace. The funny and tragic part is that we most often think we only need a little grace here and there to get through small obstacles and hurdles and then we can go back to building our big silly lives. We are ridiculous.

Watching a clown piece can be unnerving. When it's done well we see a mirror of our own weaknesses shown to us on stage. When it's done well it's the clown who is the first to admit that he is the idiot, inviting us through humor and entertainment to recognize our own idiocy as well. As Jaques LeCoq, one of the fathers of modern clown, would tell his students, "To express one's clown, that means to come face to face with one's Self, yet still stand outside... at the small distance where humor is located." Writer/director Cal McCrystal put it this way, "Your clown is the thing about you that your friends make fun of behind your back. You must, therefore, be able to look at yourself and admit your own ridiculousness." The clown has down the hard work of getting to that place. As an audience member, you might just find yourself laughing at him. It's ok. Maybe you can laugh at yourself a little more too.

Chicago is a city that has a growing and vibrant physical theater and clown community. Clown is being regularly done at 500 Clown, Barrel of Monkeys, Redmoon, Chi-Town Clown Revue and Dal Vivo, and makes appearances in The House Theater, The Lookinglass Theater, and any classic Shakespeare production. Whenever a Cirque du Soleil show is in town they often employ the use of good clowning.

If you are reading this and you don't think you've ever actually seen a clown performance that captures what has been written about here, I suggest you watch this:

This is a clip of the last scene in Slava's Snowshow. Slava Polunin is a clown from Russia that has gained worldwide respect with his heartbreaking clown he created. This show evoked some of the strongest laughter and heartfelt cries I had ever heard in a theater. I interpreted the show as a clown's journey from childhood to adulthood, making choices throughout that separate him from others. This last scene is his final descent into the blizzard of loneliness.



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jake albaugh {creative}