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We are back in Berlin! The vibrant neighbourhoods—a joyous mash of cultures, graffiti, and street art, with welcoming spaces for cycling and street life—are simply bursting with inspiration as they welcome back the Nomadic Rebel Clown Academy (NRCA). This is our fifth NRCA training. Hilary Ramsden and I have been honing our pedagogy, shaping a journey for learners who want to combine and experiment with clowning, activism, street theatre, and public space. We have been invited by Clown4All, a social clowning project set up by the passionate folks at Cabuwazi Circus. This group has been training and performing together for the last year with mentors including Sabine Choucair of Clown Me In and Peter Sweet. So it is with delightful anticipation that we meet the group: sixteen playful souls joining us in a bright room in Berlin's Kunstquartier Bethanien—an incredible building housing dance, mime, music, and fine art. Our first day focuses on the "simple clown." This is a chance for Hilary and me to get to know the group and their level of understanding through play. With a year of training already, they are deeply connected, possess excellent complicity, and have a lovely sense of care for each other. In this work, we want to foster a real sensitivity as clowns: staying curious, alert, receptive, and doing less. These clowns already possess these qualities, and we’re excited for our journey together. Our 6-day learning journey broadly includes these key elements:
We work outside every day, getting participants used to being in public space—testing its boundaries, noticing when we are invisible or visible, and learning how to negotiate different architectures, rules, and encounters with the public. We layer on the issues, using stories and games related to themes that are important to us. These actions, big and small, covered immigration, housing, connection, authoritarianism, the right to protest, surveillance, community, and hope. Our larger collective actions took place on day five. By now, the participants have spent considerable time in the streets and developed a shared movement and devising language in the studio. After a creative action design session, the clowns coalesced around three main ideas. With their themes in mind, they created games, choreographies, interactions, and invitations, preparing costumes and props as needed. This process is quick, heading to the streets within a couple of hours because the real learning happens out there. Eighteen clowns cycled in convoy to Alexanderplatz, a busy yet spacious public square with shops, restaurants, and transport hubs. The groups separated for final preparations and began to explore their games. Hilary and I followed separately to observe them and the public's response. One group called out the EU immigration procedure, highlighting the absurdity and meaninglessness of bureaucratic measures and checks. Five clowns in suits carried a sign saying ‘EU wants YOU!’ Their play demonstrated an immigration check, inviting clowns and then the public to apply for the right to remain. They used a measuring tape to check if applicants ‘fit,’ declaring the criteria ridiculous. The bureaucrat clown then made a decision—‘application accepted!’ or, more often, ‘application declined!’ While the public watching from benches seemed engaged, few accepted the invitation to play. Perhaps the possibility of rejection was too intimidating, or the tourist-heavy demographic wasn't the right audience. It was a learning moment about the clarity of our message and who we need to be talking to. Another group worked to celebrate the unappreciated labour force in public space: musicians, street artists, tram drivers, cleaners, and even police. The clowns sought them out across the square and in shops, applauding them, offering to keep them cool, clean their shoes, or even take a seat (as one clown got on all fours to offer themselves). It was a feel-good action, and bemused workers smiled at this unexpected appreciation. However, there was also trepidation, as people who are working have limited time to engage. This challenge in design led to some moments of rejection—a real learning moment in this work. A final group seemed to say nothing at all. They protested with blank signs, their passionate outrage expressed entirely in gibberish. They marched across the square, found a position, and one clown stepped out to express their demands, repeated by the chorus behind. At one point, another clown played the police; oppressive tactics like arrests and pepper spray became a slapstick routine with the clowns coming out on top. For those who stopped to watch, the clowns asked what they would protest for. “World Peace” and “Trans Rights,” answered a mother and daughter. The clowns offered them tiny blank placards and invited them to join. This group demonstrated a powerful tool of clowning: playful ambivalence. By leaving their signs blank, the spectator could project their own meaning. It could speak to protestors being silenced, issues being censored, or the feeling that we’ve said it all and there’s nothing left to say. This lack of a message proved useful when the police stopped to ask what we were doing and if we represented a particular cause. It was a delightfully confusing moment for them when we could produce signs that said absolutely nothing. Playful ambivalence creates space for the spectator to engage, get curious, and question who holds the power, all while retaining a light sense of humour. These three distinct actions offered a powerful live case study in the nuances of activist clowning. The first group learned that a clear, targeted message must also consider its audience to avoid alienation or irrelevance. The second discovered that even well-intentioned, joyful interventions can be complicated by the realities of people's time and space. The third harnessed the unique power of playful ambivalence to engage curiosity, circumvent authority, and create a open-ended dialogue. Together, they demonstrated that there is no single script for this work. The true learning lies in the doing—in stepping into the public sphere with a curious heart, a critical mind, and the willingness to adapt, fail, and play again. Our time in Berlin was a vibrant reminder that clowning is not an escape from the world's complexities, but a uniquely powerful way to engage with them, one red nose and rebellious gesture at a time.  Photo by Marcel Wittstadt written by Hilary Ramsden Continuing our explorations and the development of our activist clowning methodology The Nomadic Rebel Clown Academy travelled to Bern, Switzerland. Or, to be more precise to a quiet corner in farmland near Belp (a short train ride from the city), where we spent 7 intensive days immersed in sunshine, river waters, games and exercises that took us from being 23 individual clowns and activists to becoming a cohesive and supportive group who listened, observed, played and worked together to create actions, small and large, of resistance and rebellion.  I’ve motored from Athens across Italy and the landscape becomes softer, greener and more manicured. Getting into farmland of the outskirts of Bern I drive to Belp railway station where Robyn is waiting. She’s travelled by train from Bristol via London and Paris. We’ve not seen each other in person for a few months and we’re excited to be facilitating another Nomadic Rebel Clown Academy together. Excited to be developing our methodology that explores ways of working with current political issues and injustices through the embodied lens of clowning. We drive through increasingly narrow lanes between open pastures with cows and farmhouses until we get close to the Aare River. A left-hand turn brings us in front of a huge meadow surrounded by hedges of tall trees and at the end of the short drive a one-storey building with a covered porch running along one side. Gruppenhaus Aare Husi. Fittingly this had been previously a holiday place for the Rote Falken (Red Falcons) a socialist childrens’ organisation which emerged during the first and 2nd World wars[1] People were in the meadow, already playing games, laughing and enjoying the warm sunshine.  This was to be our home for the next 7 days. Robyn and I had arrived early, before the beginning of our workshop so that we could participate in part of the 2 days pre-workshop sessions that the team from Bern and Vienna (Lauritz, Joscha and Chiara) had prepared; 1 day of getting to know each other, 1 day of basic clown training. This was an exciting idea for us, because it meant that we could dive straight into our methodology on our Day One, secure in the knowledge that people would already be familiar with each other and familiar with some of the basic elements in clown training such as playfulness, listening, awareness of the audience and…patience! Robyn and I spent Saturday evening meeting everyone, and eating the first of many delicious and nutritious meals prepared by resident chef, Robin, also a clown but for this week, focussing on lovingly preparing food for us all. On Sunday Robyn and I were able to observe clown training facilitated by the Bern team, a rare and wonderful opportunity for us to watch with a little more distance – outside the position of the facilitator who needs to be keeping all eyes on participants, individual and group needs, outside the process of the individual clowns and the dynamics emerging and developing on stage and in a position to really experience the enthusiasm of the spectators who are also clown trainees. This is an additional lens through which to see the process of clown training develop, and important to anyone who facilitates and works with individuals and groups in these processes, yet so we don’t create time-space for these opportunities.  A plenary meeting was held at the end of each day, where everyone had the opportunity to express thoughts and feelings of the days work-play. This afforded another opportunity for getting to know each other: understanding how each of us responds and processes the different elements of the day, how each person speaks, their gestures and facial expressions, their hesitations and questionings. An different embodied process of getting closer to each other. Following this Robyn and I gave presentations which gave introductions to our own work and background plus the wider context for our rebel clown work-play processes. Who are we and what are we doing here? [And do we need our red noses?] Day One of the Academy is always a gentle introduction to clown games and exercises, ways for all of us to get to know how we work, as individuals, in pairs, small groups and a large group. We focus on listening, on reflections after each exercise and on building our feelings of trust and support for each other as we gradually shed some of our outer self-layers to reveal our clownish ways. For this workshop Robyn and I wanted to emphasise early on certain elements which we consider to be crucial for working together in public spaces – saying ‘yes’ (or no!), the fixed point and finding the game. The later afternoon was reserved for some discussion in pairs and small groups of political issues that concern us and that we wanted to address in our clown work during the week. I’m always keen to get out into public space, feeling that although studio time is crucial for creating trust, awareness, support and collaboration, the sooner we can get used to being in that unpredictable everydayness of the world outside the better. [Shall we take our red noses?] As activists, performers we love to do; eager to act, to get going and it can be hard to wait, to try and understand the contexts in which we want to act. Observation - watching, listening to the environment, our surroundings, to human and non-human behaviour and interaction is crucial for our work as clowns and activists. In addition to legal regulations[2] there are numerous social and cultural norms and etiquettes that inform our everyday behaviours: Where can we walk or run? Where can we be still? How do we move through spaces? Thus Day Two morning saw us exploring the rather sleepy town of Belp as observers. Listening: CANTO A LA REBELION - SKA-P https://open.spotify.com/track/3Omx1tugYI03ULA1zcLCj6?si=e720578d4ea34362 RESEARCH: WATCHING, LISTENING Who else is here and what are they doing? [Are we wearing red noses?] But even before we could begin we had been observed and we had our first encounter and audience: a group of curious school students on their playtime approached our group as we were gathering together in a corner of the park. They pushed one friend forward to ask what we were doing and were genuinely interested to hear about our work. It is always amazing (and somewhat reassuring) to know that we are observed and discussed. More often than not it is the younger members of the public who notice something not aligned with the everyday patterns and rhythms of the city. Perhaps they are still attuned to small changes that happen around them, and just by gathering as a larger group in that space we had interrupted the usual patterns and routines of the park. Their curiosity was still alive and strong enough to overcome feelings of shyness and embarassment. They still wanted to ask questions: What are you doing? Why? Having satisfied their curiosity and awakened our own we set off in pairs to explore the town. We looked at the configuration and use of public spaces, of traffic and roads, and buildings. We watched behaviours in and around the town. We made notes, took photographs, listened and watched, walked and talked. REFLECTION & CREATION Back at Aare Huis, reflections included individual wrtings, conversations in pairs and larger groups. After lunch and work on group choreography and cooperation, the afternoon focussed on creating small actions inspired and brought alive by the morning’s explorations. Four clown groups gathered costumes and created choreography exploring themes of property, normalised bodies, quiet spaces and structure & lines. They would take these actions into Belp the following morning. [And not a red nose in sight] Are we allowed to lie down on the ground? What happens when we do that? Where can bicycles rest? Where are we allowed to sit? What happens when we stand still? When we move differently through spaces? When we don’t follow the normal routines of consumerism and expected behaviours? What is ‘public space’ Where are the boundaries (literal and metaphorical) between public and private space? DANCE SONG: REBEL GIRL - BIKINI KILL https://open.spotify.com/artist/0gvHPdYxlU94W7V5MSIlFe?si=ZIzf3bEDRKCPmATcWXVUeg Are we seen? By whom? [I’m bringing my red nose, just in case] GETTING OUT THERE: ACTIONS 1 We had been observed once again, this time by adults, official ones in uniform – the local police. And it was not curiosity that prompted them to appear but control and authority: what are you doing here? Many of us are familiar with this and find that a truthful., albeit general generic answer usually works best: We’re working on an art project. Even so, such interventions from authority can be dangerous for those of us who are used to being targeted as outsiders and unwelcome visitors and there were some uncomfortable moments until we reassured the police that we were not planning an (immediate) overthrow of the state. After regrouping and some mutual reassurances we began the work: each group tried out their action in two different places in town. We then took turns to watch each group. All the actions revealed wonderfully nuanced attention to detail and to the peculiar restrictions and etiquettes that influence our everyday behaviours as we live our lives in public spaces. Small changes, treading softly We saw how interruptions and small transgressions in the rhythms and patterns of everyday life can encourage us to question behaviours and assumptions that frequently prevent us from making encounters with others, from including others. We also experienced what happens when we question authority, whether that authority appears in uniform, or as car drivers impatient for pedestrians to cross the road, or as passers-by suspicious of our intentions. We begin to look at the world from different perspectives, slightly askance, sideways on. Can we transform our worlds with small interruptions and actions such as these? Can we create changes for a more just society only by moving differently through public spaces? Where can such small actions and transgressions lead us? [And what happens when we wear a red nose?] Back at Aare Huis we spent plenty of time on reflections about the work: as individuals and in each group. How did we feel as we gently interrupted the patterns and behaviours in those spaces? What did we see and feel as we watched each other? Were we noticed? If so, how did people respond? How are we perceived as clowns? Are we ignored? Seen as entertainment? What happens if we don’t entertain as expected? We had a wealth of material to consider, from our observations on Day Two and the work on Day Three – what had worked, what was surprising, how did we deal with being ignored, or rejected? What thoughts and feelings emerged from watching each other working? After lunch we introduced working with bouffon, which in a way is the antithesis of the naïve, innocent clown who wants to please. The bouffon is knowing and aware of the powers and systems that oppress them (and us), with a cunning glint in the eyes that reveals their intention to destroy authority with laughter. With the bouffon we see the beginnings of the rebel in the clown. Rich material began to emerge from parodying not only the usual targets of authority (such as police and politicians) but also from parodying behaviours and beliefs that we hold sacred. Since we know more closely what we value the work can become more uncomfortable for us, revealing a deeper, finely tuned level of critique. that can potentially be more incisive and funny than the typical, brushstroke parodies of policemen and politicians. GETTING OUT THERE: ACTIONS 2 In the big city with the big demonstrations [we will never be ready] [even with the red nose!] The organising team had told us at the beginning of our collaboration that they wanted to create actions for May 1st, (the following day) to join the annual workers demonstration in Bern. Accordingly our work and discussions in the later afternoon focussed on what kinds of actions would be created and their subsequent creation. Three themed groups emerged: Tourists who were oblivious to International Workers Day; CEOs recruiting low-paid workers and a Police Support Team. We aim to be strict about timings in our scheduling of exercises and games and this extends even more so to preparations for larger actions. Underpinning our Quick-Quick Slow methodology is that sense of not becoming fixed on creating the perfect, slickest show – this will never happen there will always be something to adjust and improve and the best way to do this is out there on the streets – let’s find out what works (and what doesn’t) and we will find that there will always be something we hadn’t considered that will lead us along a new path of discovery. [And maybe we will be wearing a red nose] We travelled to Bern, gathered in the park to put on costumes, make-up and have a brief warm up before venturing into the busy streets to join the legal demonstration. Frequently we really want to get to the destination (in this case the demonstration) so that we can ‘perform’ our actions, but in doing this we sometimes miss opportunities to connect and play with spectators and other members of the public as we go. On the other hand, we can easily get distracted with games on the journey that mean we lose sight of the actions we had planned. Somehow and somewhere we need to find a balance. And sometimes our ideas and aims shift as we make our journey. But we can only make these discoveries out on the street. The groups experienced different challenges, surprises and revelations as they worked: it was further to walk that we had expected, the audience (bystanders, people in cafes, demonstrators, police and security) was alternately walking, completely still, moving swiftly and certainly not paying attention to us! The Police Support Group had to rush ahead at times to find different police lines, the Tourist group could work more in one or two places. DANCE SONG: LOUIE, LOUIE - THE KINGSMEN (an example of creating something great but less than perfect) [3] https://open.spotify.com/track/0iA3xXSkSCiJywKyo1UKjQ?si=6ab9b81034a04551 We regrouped back in the park to decide whether we wanted to join the illegal demonstration that would be starting out in a different location of the city. The CEO Recruiters group hadn’t quite found their rhythm during the legal demonstration but they decided to continue experimenting and with great energy and determination they suddenly found themselves in the prefect place: in front of the illegal demonstration being the oppressors and capitalists that we were demonstrating against. Drawing on the play and choreography of the previous days they found an effective simplicity in moving towards and away from the demonstrators, always in view and clearly being driven back by the power of the masses. A beautiful metaphor! And a fantastic lesson in not giving up at the first hurdles but instead to continue to experiment and improvise until something develops – and it will!  The Police Support group continued to ‘support’ the police on this second demonstration, creating humorous and playful actions – as individuals and in pairs – exploring the delicate dynamics between parody, permission and cooperation. [And FINALLY we got to wear red noses] DANCE SONG: PEOPLE HAVE THE POWER - PATTI SMITH https://open.spotify.com/track/4GbnjrrobeVLCl1FQ5C0OY?si=ba1be7db2f0e4091 REFLECTION & EVALUATION: cerebrations & celebrationsWe had reserved the Fifth day for review, reflection and evaluation. This was done as individuals and shared and reviewed in the each of the 4 action groups. And later in the final plenary we all shared feelings and thoughts emerging from the reflections. Many questions arose: How to conserve energy? What about wearing make-up? When do we need to stay with the group and when can we improvise on our own? Do we follow the crowds or do we find somewhere to place ourselves and stay? Is it ok to be friendly with the police? [And what about the red nose???] An important part of the afternoon was the creation of ritual visualizations of our individual dreams and hopes for the world, beyond Aare Huis and the farmlands of Belp, and for us in our different everyday worlds where we might need support and inspiration to give us energy for the next steps. Leaving the group house and each other was a slow process. After such an intensive time of work together we had to take care to nurture the new relationships and dynamics that were developing, to remember that dancing with and for each other is as important as demonstrating with and for each other - yes, the personal is still political. We left with many questions as well as renewed energy for the times ahead, because we know they will be challenging. DANCE SONG: I wanna dance with somebody - WHITNEY HOUSTON https://open.spotify.com/track/2tUBqZG2AbRi7Q0BIrVrEj?si=61b9a0b646bd4518 [1] The Aare-Hüsi is closely linked to the history of the Red Falcons in Bern and Switzerland. It was built in the 1930s by the Kinderfreunde Bern (Friends of Children of Bern) as a summer house for the Red Falcons' children's and youth groups. Even today, the Hüsi remains an important and beloved place for the Red Falcons of Bern. The Children's Friends and the Red Falcons emerged in the interwar labor movement in German-speaking countries. In 1922, Anny Klawa-Morf and Albert Hofer founded the first Children's Friends groups in Switzerland in Bern and Biel. The name "Red Falcons" was chosen for these children's groups.The goal was to offer working-class children a change from the poverty-stricken and often precarious situation in the city. The young proletarian children were to get some fresh air and find balance in nature and community. A basic idea was and still is that young people themselves take responsibility for the groups. The Red Falcons are still active in Bern today, carrying the legacy of their founders into the present day. They meet regularly on Saturday afternoons and spend long weekends and summer holidays together. Their focus is on participation, collectivity, and justice. [2] Which vary from country to country – thus providing opportunities for questioning and even ‘ignorant’ transgression. [3] p.74-75 Duncombe, S. & Lambert, S. The Art of Activism Photos by Robyn Hambrook, Hilary Ramsden & Lauritz Mori
These musings led me back to the writing of Lewis Hyde who wrote “Trickster Makes this World” and this thought-provoking podcast, ‘When Trickster Changes Sides’. Both reference how indigenous societies would ritualise their destruction in order to renew. They emphasise the sacred role of the trickster to challenge and refresh culture. Historically, tricksters have been seen as essential figures: a chaotic, destructive force for change that arrives to renew the old, but not necessarily on our terms. Ancient cultures; from the ritualised mockery of Ancient Greece and the inverted celebrations of Carnival, to the role of the ‘ritual police’ among the Pueblo Indian Tribes of the southwestern United States, knew that keeping the trickster close, fed, and given a stage, was vital. By ritualising disruption, cultures could harness its power without allowing it to bring the whole system down.
So if all systems, societies and communities must embrace periodic, controlled chaos to avoid stagnation but we have lost our spiritual avenues for ritualised destruction and mockery, does that sacred task now fall on the clowns? Could we see our role as clowns; who turn rules on their heads, who transgresses and brings joy, where one expects only pain; as a sacred one. Can we be the ones who bring balance, renewal and innovation. And if so, how?  I brought these ideas to the Clown Congress; proposing a session called “Clown Trickster As Sacred Disruptor”. The session began with this introduction to these musings and then an invitation for us to start with mockery. In pairs, one person was invited to mock the other and to discover all the ways we can do that. What emerged was a mix of mirroring, parody and sarcasm. Some really enjoyed the play, others felt like it was mean because it felt unnecessary in this particular space, while others noted the layers of mockery as some leant into firstly mocking themselves, in order to give the other something to mock them about. This exercise also raised the question; are we punching up or punching down? This question led the exploration in the next section. We created four groups. Two groups played recognisable power structures; the police and the church exploring spaces where the trickster could play and mock authority. The other two groups created scenarios to mock something which is sacred and important to us. Here the trickster was playing in and around a funeral and child birth. After a period of play we watched each of the groups.
A group of clowns played at mocking a military parade and a dictator. With my experience of clowning in protest, this was familiar territory. Here the naive clowns were trying their hardest to participate but getting it wrong and, importantly, getting in the way. Another group were based in a church at a funeral. Here a clown chorus that chimed in alongside the priest, and offered dead flowers. There seemed to be catharsis in the transgressive play. The mockery of our sacred spaces began to edge into the realm of the Bouffon; the figure who holds a mirror up to society, reflecting our own absurdities back at us. Each group played lightly with sacred moments: childbirth and a humanist funeral, yet the scenes felt irreverent, challenging the sanctity of our most deeply held ideas and beliefs. Though edgy, this play was also funny, and strangely fruitful, a space where the clown (or here, the bouffon) could thrive. By gently mocking, by testing the elasticity of what we consider sacred, even rigidly so, they invited us to laugh at ourselves. And in that laughter, something powerful emerged: regeneration through play. This session ended but some questions still linger for me:
I'm excited to keep researching in this space with a new appreciation for the possibilities of the Bouffon to help me explore these further. Photos by Dan Green & Holly Tiggs Street Play Chaos Fun Shit clown & voice games exchange clowns on film clown & puppets Participant notes from Clown Congress 2025 Session proposed and documented by Laura Singer The inspiration for this discussion came from someone who sadly wasn't able to attend the session... the idea was to consider how clowning could be integrated into more traditional one-to-one coaching with clients, to enliven and 'embody' things up and allow people to benefit from the empowering process of stepping into 'clown' with both feet. 'How could clown be adapted for this rather different setting and how would it enrich the coaching journey?' they wondered - if my memory is correct - and I realised I'd been wondering that too. In the event a wonderful group of clown-pals gathered in the sunshine for a wide ranging discussion about 'clowning in the community'. It was a really inspirational conversation where we all shared a little of the work we had done; experiences we'd had and projects that had inspired us in our endeavours. This included questions around: What did we, or the communities of people we worked with, gain from clowning around? What settings suited clown offerings? How could we make clown accessible to diverse audiences with different needs? What are some of the blocks to engagement? And, what stance was needed from the community-based facilitator? As the sun warmed our faces we felt enlightened by the group's witness of our work, our plans, our dreams. We agreed on much... that play is underutilised, that we love to 'know nothing' as clowns and that we must 'dream our dreams together'. And of course that 'clown is a state of mind'. Clown helps us peel back layers of ourselves without us even really realising it, like a Russian doll ... getting further and further until we get to the essential parts of our 'self'. So much to share and inspire! Participant notes from Clown Congress 2025 Sessions proposed and documented by Anna Frearson I arrived at Clown Congress fully aware of my place there, filled with excitement and hope, yet carrying a heavy heart due to the current state of our world. I wondered how, as clowns, we might contribute to positive change. I genuinely believe that comedy has the power to heal the world. As a comedy writer, I have always leaned on humor to address difficult topics, using my natural comedic instincts to share the world I want to see and be a part of. I love humanity, especially my fellow clowns. If you can play with me and make me laugh, my heart is yours. With this in mind, I pondered a simple question: if Donald Trump can become President of the United States, why can’t a clown? After all, our British government is full of clowns, and I often stare in disbelief and bemusement at the few moments I’ve witnessed parliament in session. Anna Farthing spoke about the theatre of politics, and that encapsulates our situation perfectly. There we all were, gathered, and I felt compelled to propose the idea of a Clown Manifesto—a Red Nose Party. How would we approach “government” differently? During the first session on Saturday, it was challenging to voice all the emotions I had brewing, so I wanted to hear everyone’s thoughts. We decided to take the current political model and brainstorm our own political departments and play around with how we would draft policies. After some time, we shared our ideas. Although there was joy and fun in our discussions and a lot of passion behind our words, I still felt something was off. At the end of this session, we realised we wanted a moral compass or code—something we came to call the Clownmandments—rather than a strict set of policies to represent how we would show up as clowns in life.  A lot was stirring within me after this session, along with a sense of dissatisfaction and awareness that there was much more to explore. The words "micro" and "macro" came up frequently over the weekend, highlighting how we can make a significant impact on a small scale. Yet, I questioned why we should limit ourselves. Perhaps the micro represents grassroots movements. Maybe that is how systems will topple—through an overwhelming surge from the ground, leading to the fall of the tree. (Of course, I don’t want any trees to be harmed in the process.) Yet, I wondered how we could also move in the macro and ensure we are seen and heard. What is the clown's power? Historically, the court jester held significant influence, serving as a truth-teller and trusted advisor to the sovereign. Where have those figures gone? After a fruitful discussion at lunchtime, I felt inspired to hold another session, determined to explore the bigger picture. I realized that simply trying to match or respond to the current systems of power wouldn't be effective. Instead, we needed a fresh start. I proposed that we imagine an apocalypse had occurred and consider how we would, as clowns, rebuild the world. This is how the best play session I’ve had in a long time came to be. My heartfelt thanks to everyone who collaborated on this project. It was a true collaboration of hearts and clowns. Clowns Take Over (Post Apocalypse) Hey! The apocalypse hit In case you missed it Yeah, what came before Was gone, flattened So got to start again Finding our way Through play Unplanned, languageless A beautiful chaos Grew out the mess With no homes A rehearsal room to roam See things anew Those of us who made it through Rules were sooo pre-apocalypse Who needs rules, not us We, the original fools Our compassion knew what to do When we found each other Caring ruled Huge smiles, no hate So grateful, laughing We cheered and hollered Found a rope and pulled together Rescued those struggling Then built a warm shelter So they could recover Cos amongst the madness There was sadness So we danced for them While guarding their den (In a friendly way Not to keep anyone away But to keep them safe, inside And when other clowns arrived One by one by one We welcomed them Heartily, As they belonged Untangled a red nose Presented it like a red rose To show our love Created a song Our anthem We sang over and over Together We had too much fun It was easy No hierarchy And when people tried to leave To find another place to be We found it hard to set them free Yet we soon found the play in that Realising they’d left to come back In a different way Mischievously Making art out of rubble We loved the trouble Through trial and error Stickers for gender We swapped and removed Cos it didn't prove a thing About anyone It was just more fun There was no failure In that hour When the clowns took over We rose gracefully Free to play and be free It was ecstasy Anna @annafreepoet Comedy Writer, Performer and Facilitator
We proposed the session in the Seminar Room, but the three year old had other plans, so we put a note on the door saying that the session would be happening wherever the three year old happened to be.
The three year old was blissfully unaware that he had proposed a session. He enjoyed animating a long bogey type worm across the sofas while a clown animated the turtle trying to eat it. They laughed. This clown said she had been wanting to be around children of this age for a while and wants to do more work like this. He also enjoyed squeezing a stress ball and catching bubbles blown by another clown. A few other clowns popped in here and there and had little chats with him, which he loved and appreciated. 5-6 adult clowns played a few games from a book called “40 games for Frivolous People” https://www.abebooks.co.uk/9780713618983/Forty-Games-Frivolous-People-Wilson-0713618981/plp We particularly enjoyed “Do You Know Mr Green”, We played it several times and the three year old really enjoyed leading the end of the game. We got caught in a 3 year old/clown “shall we do that again?” loop.  We also enjoyed “This is a Ding”.
Participants were reluctant at first, because the instructions are confusing, but once another clown put some Drum and Bass music on to accompany it, everyone seemed to enjoy it a lot more. The point of the game is to be confused, but I’m not sure if people were laughing because it’s a good game, because it’s equally possible they were laughing because it’s a dreadful game. The three year old also really enjoyed watching the street clowns head out on their mission and then return. Several people asked where he got his leggings from. They’re from here: https://eddieandbee.co.uk/collections/adult-organic-cotton-leggings Participant notes from Clown Congress 2025 Session proposed and documented by Clare Parry-Jones I proposed a session on Clown and Grief following recent conversations I’d had with Robyn Hambrook, reflecting upon the future direction of my clown teaching, my performances and research over the years. My own experiences of loss and grief were sometimes helped by my state of clown: being able to see the ridiculous amidst the trauma, laughing, crying, being able to momentarily step out of the depths and view the situation. This led to the creation of a non-verbal clown performance which I have toured internationally, always with a Q&A afterwards, which gives space for discussion, curiosity and cultural exchange. I am interested in ancient rites and sacred sites of our ancestors, particularly the mesolithic and neolithic in the northern hemisphere. I have had the pleasure of making contemporary creative interventions at some of these sites, collaborating with nature, landscape and community, honouring our ancestors and reflecting upon our own state of (in)humanity. I was curious to see what would emerge within this session, from individuals and the group as a whole and what their needs and desires would be. It was immediately clear that space was needed for quiet reflection, embodiment, talking, sharing, listening and witnessing, so we made space for these. Key themes that arose: Connecting with grief, through clown What is grief? Clowning as a framework for the stages of grief Rituals, process, transformation Being in a supportive community vs current isolation of our grief processes Cultural lessons from around the world related to loss Collaboration with, and support from nature Accessing our own vulnerability through body and voice Is it too much for the audience, or for ourselves? How can you clown about …. ? Support, laugh, release, strength As a result of facilitating this session, I propose that I design and hold workshops on Clown and Grief, providing a safe space for exploration and transformation.  A few Grief Resources:
Good Grief Festival - Weston super Mare https://www.goodgrieffest.com Staging Loss: performance as Commemoration (Palgrave Macmillan) https://link.springer.com/book/10.1007/978-3-319-97970-0 Llif - short film by Clare Parry-Jones https://youtu.be/NlSwvxKM8as?si=flCD-FjbP23ovei7 (*themes of child loss ) Francis Weller - The Wild Edge of Sorrow https://www.francisweller.net/books.html Participant notes from Clown Congress 2025 Session proposed and documented by Carla Keen Attendees: 10-12 This session was convened because of the amount of neurodivergent (ND) folk that clowning tends to attract. I am curious about why that is, to talk about the overlap, and hear people’s experiences. Note: a ‘talking stick’ approach was used as with many neurodivergent folk in the space, there was both talking fast/over-talking combined with difficulty processing lots of info. In short: people with different needs for communication. The talking stick enabled us to stay focussed on one person, and one topic at a time. We used a nice purple pen. :D Key themes How do ND folk engage with ‘traditional’ theatrical tools/methods? Training: should there be someone available who is there solely to support ND folk? Does clown allow us to reclaim or embrace what is being said about ND people? Does the use of medication impair your clown? To be (your ND self) or not to be (your ND self)? Being yourself vs masking and the relationship to being on stage For some being on stage allows the mask to be removed, for others it makes a space for a kind of mask or character which is not themself. So, a clown state can allow for both an escape from and/or a full embodiment of your ‘true self’. But, if your ND is a way into your funny, or part of your clown, does this mean you allow yourself to be further ‘othered’? Clowns are ‘idiots’ and ‘freaks’ - they present parts of the self that are often (for whatever reason) kept hidden or used sparingly - does it help to put your ND self out as a clown? Or does it further ‘other’ a group that already struggles to occupy space? Arguably a way to embrace what is probably being said anyway…(think of the word ‘queer’, for example.) Diagnosis Is there any value in a diagnosis? You know already if you are ND. But we live in a world where social contracts make it hard, so means you have a shorthand way to communicate, enables you to advocate for yourself. Has anyone found that medication has dulled their ‘funny’? Some said yes. That ability to think fast or the impulse to say/do something, the ND spark, can sometimes leave you, which is great if you are doing practical things like producing, but feels somehow leave you feeling less like you and less able to clown as you did.  Training
Do you need someone available who is aside from the workshop able to provide care/support? Should workshop leaders provide this. OR is there the expectation that if you are at a workshop you are able to look after yourself - How do you clown if you don’t feel safe? Clown is a vulnerable state Suggestion that care can be provided by the community - that as a collective group of people clowning would be able to ‘catch you’ Clown as a concept Idea that it is calling - that like ND - you don’t choose it, it is something within that you need to do The idea of clowning - things like making yourself vulnerable, saying the unsaid, masking, are things that ND people do all the time - they are used to being ‘other’ We are just being human on stage - coming with what we have ND lots of women in particular, have ‘found’ themselves or felt seen. Lots of ND women going ‘yes this is me’ - and this mirrors the discovery of clown Participant notes from Clown Congress 2025 Clown and Theatre of the Oppressed session proposed and documented by Rosa Stourac McCreery I proposed the session because I have been researching and exploring the intersections of theatre of the oppressed practice and clowning, and if and how these forms can support each other and create different or new invitations to audiences to interact in meaningful ways which garner solidarity and can translate into real world actions. I love clowning and I love theatre of the oppressed practice, they are the cornerstones of my life, and I think they offer us so much for healthy, connected ways of being, living and working together and challenging and proposing. Up until the past few years I had thought of these forms, as well as the physical theatre and Circus based arts which are other key parts of my practice, as necessarily separate. It seemed like the more physically challenging, or stylised forms couldn’t be used within a theatre of oppressed framework because of the need for audience to interact with the content, form, and aesthetics of a theatre of the oppressed play. But, increasingly, I felt like it would be worth exploring what happens when we bring these forms together. Does it make for more dynamic theatre of the oppressed plays? Does the Clown help us to question and reflect on the oppressions being shown and how normalised they have become? Does the Clown help to bring humour to what can otherwise be heavy and depressing subjects to tackle? Is the Clown an obstruction or distraction to audiences interacting with the play? What becomes of the role of the Joker/facilitator of the of the oppressed process, when the Clown is already establishing a direct communication with the audience? All of these questions are ones that I have been exploring. I was keen to bring this exploration to Clown Congress because of the range of clowns with different experiences that were there, and also because I think that it offers us important opportunities to question the purpose of the interaction with audience when we are clowning. Are we interacting with audience just because that’s what clowns do? It’s inherent to the form? What is it we are asking of audiences when we do this? How can interaction with audiences lead to a greater readiness to build solidarity and tackle the problems we can see represented in a Clown show, linking Clown with what’s happening in the world and inside of us? The session itself I thought was really great – I was blown away by the enthusiasm people brought to the session, and how they took agency in it and made proposals. It reminded me of the fabulous laboratory models of the feminist theatre of the oppressed practices, where we support each other’s aesthetic and political development by practically exploring our ideas for the enhancement of the play we have seen by another group by offering back a version we have quickly collectively worked on. Of course there’s only so much we can explore in the time we had and as people who are just meeting for the first time. Also, some folk there did not have prior experience or knowledge of theatre of the oppressed practice. I talked briefly about other experiences I had had of mixing these forms, most recently in Zambia, Brazil and Guatemala. In Bristol, we decided to try out creating games for an audience with which they can interact which could lead to meaningful interactions, in terms of interactions that have to do with the content of the play and people taking action on the oppressions that are shown. A member of the group suggested that we choose a theme that is current and affect lots of people; the announcement about PIP benefits had been made fairly recently and of course many people were and are very worried about how this will impact. So we agreed to use that as the theme for the short pieces and games that we made. I suggested that people could make an image of the oppression as a starting point, as a way of aesthetically representing our relationship to the issues, and giving a form to work from. Of the games that were created, one was much more clearly identifiable as a game. However, it felt as if it was the performers playing it rather than so much an invitation to the audience. So there would’ve been the task of working out how to make this accessible to an audience and get them involved, and it still felt a little bit unclear about what the purpose of the involvement would be. In the case of another group, we created an image as a starting point which showed a person representing capitalist system/politicians taking money away from people for their own gain, another figure who was supposed to be a support service or advocate, but seemed inept or over capacity and ultimately helpless, to support a third person who was clearly struggling and in need of support but increasingly downtrodden. The invitation was to step in as an audience member and act in solidarity, or support. Each of the characters appealed to members of this audience to join them or to acknowledge their intention. This one got somewhat chaotic, there was clear empathy with the person who most needed support, but the capitalist figure was very pervasive and paid very little heed to everything else that was happening. In some ways, quite real. But the audience was stalwart in support of their comrade, and kind of pushed the advocate out, whilst the money man was heading off doing his own thing. The advocate figure was a bone of contention, with most people seeming to feel that they were in the way and ultimately not serving the person who most needed it and needed to be taken out of the picture. I feel in this case that the audience took roles as actively because they were very warm to the exercise and ready to interact. I do wonder how much a different audience would have got involved, or if they would just look on. The third piece felt most effective theatrically and was impactful as well as compelling the audience to act, although performers came towards the audience rather than inviting the audience into the playing space. The piece was less clearly Clown, if anything had an element of grotesque and possibly what would be called dark Clown. It consisted of someone in need of support, and someone who was there clearly to be there with them and support them, but all the elements of support were being silently, insidiously stripped away by the shrouded figures approaching as if invisible and literally peeling away the elements which represented support. It was clear that the shrouded figures who were stripping all support elements away were coming for the persons life next. However, at that point the person came into the audience asking for help and solidarity, and the audience closed in around them preventing the shouted characters from getting to them. Whilst this piece was the one which really created shudders in us as audience members and where there was a clear offer and mechanism of acting in solidarity, there was much less playfulness and Clown-based verve. It would’ve been interesting to see what would’ve happened to the piece if more of this was present in it, and how this might have changed the relationship with the audience or not. Also, I think it would be useful to think about how the piece could be a stimulus for discussion about what that kind of solidarity would look like in real world terms, and for the narrative to be developed so that there was more variety of possibilities for interaction and intervention in the narrative from the audience. As the notes from the session attest, I think through the session and as a group we asked many really useful questions, and I really appreciated the opportunity to continue to explore and interrogate these forms coming together. I think more time would be needed to develop Clown aesthetics and narrative which invite audience involvement and maintain a sense of critical thinking throughout, acknowledging the dangers of people just getting swept along and not really thinking about what they’re actually doing and why. I think there’s something interesting about the power of the performance space and an enticing character or set of actions, and the way that an audience can get carried along with that power, or may reject it because it feels unsafe for outside of their comfort zone. I think there is still so much to be explored with these questions and with more time and space to do so it would be great to continue to share discoveries and insights. They were also good questions asked in the session about the differences between impulsive, in-the-moment actions, which someone proposed was like the metaphor of the warrior, versus slower more considered actions which would take a longer period of time to achieve, for which the image of the midwife was used. This line of questioning also makes me think about what kind of process the performance sits within. Whether or not there is the possibility to develop relationship with the audience to create dialogue and involvement in a variety of ways, including after the performance thinking about how collective strategies that have been proposed in the creative moment can be harnessed and acted upon and what kind of organising needs to take place to support that.  |
AuthorCreative research into the meeting point of clowning and activism Archives
September 2025
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ABOUT ROBYN
Robyn is a Bristol-based director, teacher and performer. With over 25 years experience she is a passionate practitioner of clowning, physical theatre, circus and street arts. She has a MA in Circus Directing, a Diploma of Physical Theatre Practice and trained with a long line of inspiring teachers including Holly Stoppit, Peta Lily, Giovanni Fusetti, Bim Mason, Jon Davison, Zuma Puma, Lucy Hopkins and John Wright.
Over the past eight years she has been exploring the meeting point of clowning, activism and a deep desire to address the injustices in the world. This specialism has developed through her Masters Research ‘Small Circus Acts of Resistance’, on the streets and in protests with the Bristol Rebel Clowns and in research residencies with The Trickster Laboratory. Robyn’s Activist Clown research has led to collaborations with Jay Jordan (Laboratory of Insurrectionary Imagination, France), Clown Me In (Beirut), LM Bogad (US), Hilary Ramsden (Greece) and international Tricksters; ‘The Yes Men’ (US). During the pandemic in 2020, Robyn set up The Online Clown Academy with Holly Stoppit and developed a series of Zoom Clown Courses. Robyn’s research, started during her Masters, has been exploring the meeting point of clowning and activism, online, in the real world and with international collaborators. With this drive to explore political edges of her work she has also dived back into the world of the Bouffon; training with Jaime Mears, Bim Mason, Nathaniel Justiniano, Eric Davis, Tim Licata, Al Seed and the grand master Bouffon-himself; Philippe Gaulier. Keen to explore the intersection of clowning and politics, Robyn is driven to create collaborative, research spaces, testing and pushing the limits of the artform to create new knowledge and methodologies for her industry and strengthen partnerships for future work. Some of her most recent collaborations and teaching projects have included the Nomadic Rebel Clown Academy (5-day Activist Clown Training), The Laboratory of the Un-beautiful (Feminist Grotesque Bouffon Training for Womxn Theatre Makers) and the Clown Congress (annual gathering of clowns, activists & academics collectively exploring what it means to be a clown in this current era) |
Photo by HeardinLondon Photography
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