At a destitute refugee camp near the city of Mostar in the former Yugoslavia, a jet-lagged busload of performers from Barcelona jugglers, stilt walkers, trapezists, and tumblers scramble together a loose street band and start marching past bombed-out buildings. Suddenly, faces appear from behind the cratered walls. The watchers are stunned, unbelieving. There's a moment's hesitation, then they rush to join the throng. Soon hundreds of children and adults are trailing through the rubble-strewn streets, laughing. "Then you realize how strong, useful, and necessary it is, the theater," one performer later writes. "The art, the music, the dreams.Š"
What if Bozo were a hip hero of world peace? He'd pack a dozen silly friends and a bagful of gags into a tiny red clown car and head for the nearest UN roadblock. Indeed, that's exactly what a group called Clowns Without Borders tries to do by bringing circus performers, puppetry, and music as well as schoolbooks, medical supplies, and computers to areas isolated by violent conflict.
Born in 1993, Clowns Without Borders emerged from the antiwar youth movement in Europe, with help from charismatic comic Tortell Poltrona. Poltrona a 41-year-old Spaniard known to balance 14 wooden chairs on his nose and dive off a scaffolding 10 meters high into a glass of water mobilizes dozens of comedy artistes who take frequent trips to dangerous destinations at their own expense. With noted acts like the Desastrosus Circus and Italian clown maestro Leo Bassi, Poltrona has performed and held teaching workshops for tens of thousands of displaced civilians throughout Bosnia, the Gaza Strip, and war zones in northern Africa and Central America. For survivors of shelling, rape, terrorism, and snipers' bullets, these red-nosed renegades bring a healing dose of comedy. On the flip side, the performers return home with a firsthand taste of wartime reality to shake up the complacent suburbs back in the so-called free world.
The Clowns bring in just enough from contributions, T-shirt sales, and small state subsidies to cover the cost of buying their modest aid supplies and running a small office in Barcelona. In return for their labors, the performers get only personal satisfaction. Yet according to Clowns veteran Moshe Cohen the group's only American, and the alter-ego of a silent slapstick character named "Mr. Yoowho" that's more than enough. "To perform for people who haven't really laughed in so long it's an indescribable feeling."
Clowns Without Frontiers: on the Web at www.pangea.org/psf/index.html.
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Bozos for World Peace
