On Saturday, Feb. 14, I attended a variety show at the Others Workshop Collective in Minneapolis organized by Clown Picnic. It was not originally planned to be a mutual aid event, but evolved into one after the surge of ICE agents came to the Twin Cities, with all proceeds ($1,163 as of Feb. 18) going to local rent relief and Minnesota Immigrant Rights Action Committee (MIRAC). Started in September 2025 by BrieAnna Lindquist, the organization began as a get-together for local clowns in a park, as the name implies, but has since evolved to include workshops, classes and other events. 

“I think the community that we’ve built so far has been really pleasant, so I just wanna keep creating a space for that,” Lindquist said.

Lindquist has 15 years of experience as a clown (including their time as a mime), although she doesn’t do it professionally. Co-producing the event, as well as leading workshops, was Zelia Gonzales, a theatrical clown of three years who approached Lindquist about including more performance aspects.

“[Lindquist] has this amazing group of people who are interested in clowning as an aesthetic, interested in clowning as a practice and as a theater and art form, and it felt natural to turn that into a show,” Gonzales said. “These things that you’ve [Lindquist] put on [are] helping people satiate their curiosity and open up a new world of clowning in Minneapolis.”

“Clowning is inherently anti-fascist because you are throwing bricks at the walls of society and challenging what is normal … you’re calling attention to everything that people perceive as normal and saying it doesn’t actually have to be that way,” Gonzales said.

I found the idea of “joyful resistance” to be quite resonating, as it can be quite easy to become jaded in the face of injustice.

I feel that when people think of clowns, they tend to imagine them as something for entertaining children or horror antagonists, rather than performers of a proper art.

“Clowning is a pretty ancient art form that has gone through tons of iterations … they are putting all of their emotional muck out on stage and facilitating a room in which people in the audience can see their own emotional muck in the clown,” Gonzales said. “[They] just recognize that we’re all human and we’re going through the same emotions together. They’re taking something quite vulnerable and opening up and saying: ‘I’m sure you have these emotions as well.’ This is a universal feeling.”

I have to admit that I went into the interview with the notion that clownery was something purely of entertainment value. I never considered how it could serve as a conduit for connection and greater awareness — a perception that has definitely changed after this experience.

The show itself consisted of 14 performers. Gonzales had two different personas: Cupid as the event’s host and Hans Jobben, German porn director, as its own act. Some of my favorite characters (though all of them were wonderful) included Natty Light, Justin Uranus, Canna Beanz, the aforementioned Hans Jobben, Magical Boy Swag and Ro Baldus.

Some highlights included Jobben’s “casting” of an audience member, Swag’s gender-affirming poetry and Uranus’ angling-themed drag. The clownery was not just limited to the performers; however, almost the entire audience was dressed to fit the theme.  

Natty Light, dressed as a discarded beer can, performed a stand-up comedy routine, as well as dance numbers to “Paradise City,” “Sexy and I Know It” and “Don’t Stop Believin’.” Light has a background in theater, but said she felt more connected to the audience when she started doing improv and clownery. The inspiration for her persona came when she saw discarded beer cans while out running.

“I just got to wondering what’s the story behind that?” said Light. “What does it feel like to be discarded?” 

Drag artist Canna Beanz has “been delving into the clownery of it all for the past year.” They described themselves as “a crafty bitch,” as evidenced by their ensemble of thrifted and handmade clothing (a cape, tablecloth-turned-dress and yarn hairpiece). Their performance included a dance number to “Let’s Have a Kiki” and “Party Lights” as well as balloon art.

 Despite the lighthearted nature of the show, the purpose behind it was still at the forefront.

“I’ve definitely gotten to know my neighbors better,” said Light. “From the lens of a performer, it’s gotten me to think about what kind of art is important right now, and what are we doing and why?”

“Doing the workshops has made such a difference for me personally because it’s giving people a new perspective and a way to deal with fascism. Clowning can be a perspective that you look at the world through.” Gonzales said.

“This has always been happening; our proximity is a lot closer and it is on a more visible scale. I think during this time really listening to our Black and brown community [and] our iIndigenous community, because they have been going through this since the inception of this fascist country,” Beanz said. “I look forward to all the incredible things our community is doing to help one another, to protect one another and I’m really excited to share some joy.” 

The strength of the local clown community and what it is capable of accomplishing set a good example for what any of us can do when we come together. Even if you’re not in makeup, you can be just as brave when it comes to facing injustice. Resistance doesn’t just have to be putting bodies in the streets either, it can entail forms of expression as well.

“If you’re gonna make art right now, it feels like it should be in complete service to the community, and joy as an act of resistance is really important to clowning in and of itself,” Gonzales said. 

For more information, you can find the entire ensemble of performers at @mplsclownpicnic on Instagram.

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