The power of the clown

Performer Riss Obolensky is a clown and drag king. They were a finalist in the UK’s largest Drag King competition, Man Up. They believe in the power of clowning in the wider community. Riss is performing at the Edinburgh Fringe this month

Iwas born in Bath and went to Prior Park College. Bath was a great place to grow up –big enough to have plenty of opportunity, and small enough that it didn’t swallow you up. My ‘youth’ brings about many mixed feelings, as life at home was very unstable. Despite this, Bath felt like a good container for all of that –I made lifelong friends through the Egg’s YPT youth theatre who became my rocks and later my queer community there, which was essential. There was a lot of partying. I found something quite delicious in finding a bit of a grungy underbelly to Bath, despite its quaint veneer. The music scene was especially good, and I went to a lot of gigs. I was privileged to be schooled at Prior, and the standard of education there was fantastic. They had a wonderful drama department which set me up to pursue performance.

Bath has a lot of culture for such a small city I loved the social potential of the city growing up; there was a massive crosspollination of people from different places coming together, so I never felt constricted. I’d say it’s a community-minded city. My big association with Bath was a place called The Porter., a slightly grimy pub/live music venue at the top of Milsom Street which no longer exists… This was the watering hole for myself and all my friends –we danced a lot.

After leaving school, I went to Cambridge University to study Education with English and Drama. At the time it felt like a fluke –I applied very last minute and it was the only place I applied to. When I got there, I loved it. The theatre scene was incredible and I got into comedy in my first year, joining the Cambridge Footlights and taking shows to the Fringe. I then moved to Bristol and then London. I’ve only just left Bristol again to scope out the scene in London.

Comedy has always been part of my life and my identity. Some of my earliest memories consist of me whacking on a moustache, doing a ridiculous voice and pranking family members. Being a class clown at school can be a bit of a mask, but it also brought me so much joy to make people laugh. I think stupidity is a divine act of service to the world.

I perform as a Drag King. The drag king scene is much more radical than mainstream drag. It attempts to disentangle patriarchal power structures and operates in a slightly different realm, as it tends to be performed by AFAB/gender non-conforming people. Because patriarchy, inaccessibility and exclusion still dominate the world (even the queer scene *shock horror*), there hasn’t been as much space carved out for drag kings. I have friends who have had such negative experiences as Kings when they have stepped into more heteronormative audiences. The mainstream drag ‘market’ tends to just want queens because it is deemed more palatable. While drag kings may be less palatable and more radical, their work tends to be boundary pushing and exciting. The question remains as to whether the drag king community want to be more visible, or if there is more valuable work to be done in staying underground. I tend to change my mind on this on a daily basis.

Hester Welch decided to start the night in Bristol at the Wardrobe Theatre, which has been instrumental in developing my craft. It has seen tonnes of experimental comedy nights, pulls in a generous audience and is a fantastic place to try stuff out. The Lost Cabaret is such a playful evening and the audience are game for anything. It’s the best training –stick on a wig, drop any plans, find something playful and live in the moment. It usually ends in a lot of mess and me ruining my favourite suit with raw eggs.

I have worked on five Arts Council funded projects, focused around queer experiences. The themes have been around belonging, community, queer history, archival work, queer adaptions, queer healing and transformation, drag, dramaturgy, even the relationship between queerness and witchcraft. I’ve been blessed with working with some pioneering artists over the years.

My drag-clown one-man show, Healing King Herod, is going to the Edinburgh Festival. I am so excited to take the newest version of the show up to the Fringe, alongside director and co-creator Eloïse Poulton. We’ve been working on the show for the past year and this iteration is the wildest version yet, with some experimental tech elements and film. It’s feeling more like a full-scale production, rather than a show in a suitcase. It will be an 11-day run between 16–27 August. We are stoked by the 9.40pm slot, as we’ll likely pull in an audience looking for alternative cabaret comedy shows.

I perform at The Lost Cabaret in Bristol. This is a night started by my clown teacher and dear friend Zuma Puma after she graduated from Ecole Philippe Gualier (a prestigious clowning school in Paris). Myself and fellow clowns Robyn Hambrook and

I believe in the power of clowning in the wider community. Clowning has brought me into closer connection with myself, because my inner clown is a playful, present, connected and inspired force. Everybody has one. In clowning, there is a softness and a truth that underpins it all. The vulnerability to get up on stage, connect with an audience, be fully witnessed in finding play is no small thing. Someone once described it as the ‘extreme sport’ of performance art. For me, this tool in connection, play, stupidity and truth is a sort of crazy wisdom the world needs.

I’m feeling in a great place. The pandemic was a big knock to the industry, and coming out of it has been pretty rocky. The process of creativity and being an artist is non-linear, and usually doesn’t make much sense. I’ve found a lot of resilience in celebrating the achievements of the last year or two. My ambitions for the future probably involve lots of academy awards, fabulous meals, and some sort of clown cult takeover of the world (followed by a Netflix documentary of how it all went wrong of course). n

Riss Obolensky is performing at the Edinburgh Fringe from 16–27 August, at Underbelly Cowgate at 9.40pm. Instagram: @rissobolensky