The Midwest Clown Association sent in its best through the halls of the Radisson Star Plaza on Thursday afternoon.
Clowns of all shapes, sizes and costume colors bounced around carefree during the conference. A matador clown in a masterful purple suit and a lady clown in all manner of primary colors snagged a hotel employee for a selfie. Others meandered through the West Ballroom looking for new accouterments for their acts.
They wanted everyone to enjoy in the frivolity and joy that typically attracts people to clown life. Skits, makeup classes, everything that makes a clown a clown was to be shared with as many people as wanted to receive, said Lucy Mahoney, “Chief Joey,” of the Midwest Clown Association Roundup at the Radisson Star Plaza. The event runs through Saturday.
It’s different for clowns now these days, though.
People who’d rather bring pain to others have co-opted clowning; indeed, several clowns have been spotted menacing people on the street all over the country in recent months. Others, such as a couple from Portland, Tenn., have been arrested for making false accusations against clowns. For those reasons, the roundup banquet Saturday night will be a closed affair for the 100 clowns in Merrillville learning to hone their craft, Mahoney said.
Even teaching those getting into the business of clowning dramatically has changed, said Mahoney, a clown for the past 45 years. When she teaches new Joeys the ropes, the focus is not so much on openness as it is just keeping the craft alive.
“I had some newbies,” Mahoney said Thursday. “I told them if they get anything out of this conference, it’s when a child gets (a frightened) look on his or her face, you turn around and walk away. If you try to tickle or make them laugh, you freak them out for life, and then their brother or sister will freak out, and the parents blame the clown when really, the second kid is crying because the first one is.”
Still, there was plenty over which to clown around at the roundup, which at one time boasted 400 to 450 clowns at a time, organizers said. There were makeup classes Thursday for those looking to refine their look, and a skit competition was scheduled Thursday for clowns young and old to show off the pratfalls and techniques that make clowns such a indelible part of the landscape.
When Mahoney started her career as a clown at 17, she was struck by how these big, older people had the courage to walk in parades and perform ridiculous feats of strength and silliness. She showed up at a meeting, was thrown some makeup and if she could draw the way she wanted her face to look on a piece of paper, she could be a clown.
Choosing the clown life was a godsend, Mahoney said.
“People say clowns hide behind their makeup, and that’s what makes them scary, but really, you’re showing the world your heart, your soul, your mind,” Mahoney said. “You’re giving people the light in your heart so that for a minute, they can forget what’s making them sad.”
For Juan “Frijolito” Reyes and Roberto “Chechin Pechin” Ramirez, two Latino clowns from Chicago, getting into clowning was more a necessity than pleasure. Both men said they became clowns when they were children in Mexico so they could feed themselves and their families.
What started as a basic necessity, however, turned into a higher calling, according to Reyes, 37.
“Here, it’s more like joy when you make kids laugh,” he said. “You might start off with ugly makeup, but it makes you want to be better.”
Michelle L. Quinn is a freelance reporter with the Post-Tribune.
More Top Picks Samsung Gear S3