Clown Cardio doesn’t take exercise too seriously

Whenever Alex Lee mentions Clown Cardio, he’s met with some confusion.

“People will say, ‘What is that? People dressed as clowns chasing you?” Mr. Lee, a 42-year-old technical writer living in Los Angeles, said after a recent class. No one is wearing face paint or red noses—nor are they necessarily chasing anyone (more on that later)—but this hour-long session, which costs $20, featured a bicycle horn, mini circus tents from Ikea, and carnival-style popcorn boxes.

Jaymie Parkkinen, Founder the class at Pieter Performance Space in Los Angeles, takes theater games usually reserved for improv warm-ups and turns them into aerobic exercises with clown-themed props: a game similar to blob tag, where the tagged arms connect and chasing everyone; a more chaotic version of musical chairs; a circus tent version of Capture the Flag; disorderly dancing competitions.

When Mr. Parkkinen wants to expand the class’s repertoire, he visits the Los Angeles Central Library and watches the performance portion; recently he was inspired by exercises from a book for vaudevillians from the 1920s.

In this class, participants of all genders and ages are encouraged to let go. “I want to emphasize playing, not winning,” Mr. Parkkinen announced before Clown Dodge Ball. The disco tune “Turn the Beat Around” played as one half of the class fought to stand up the popcorn boxes scattered around the room, while the other class wanted more of them face down by the time the song had ended.

“I can unzip the human suit a little bit and be a dirty little goblin and that’s accepted because clowns get to access their inner child,” says Sarah Thompson, 29, a North Hollywood marketing copywriter who has taken four classes.

Los Angeles is already home to a vibrant one clown communitywith clown workshops and shows such as Clown Church, Clown zoo, a psychedelic clown workshop, The idiot workshop and a clown awards ceremony, but Clown Cardio is uniquely focused on exercise.

Clown Cardio was conceived and launched in September 2023, shortly after Mr. Parkkinen’s cancer was diagnosed at an advanced stage. Mr. Parkkinen, who had been working part-time as a lawyer at an entertainment company, was inspired to focus more specifically on what brought him joy, and that was the improv warm-ups, where silliness and physicality are fully activated.

With play as the goal, laughter and sound are one of the benchmarks that Mr. Parkkinen uses to measure the success of each lesson. “For me it’s the auditory element. It’s hard to visually decipher the level of joy.”

Can foolishness improve a workout? According to Prof. Sophie Scott, a neuroscientist who specializes in laughter at University College London, laughter itself does not burn many calories. But just like exercise, laughter produces a significant endorphin boost. Over time, laughter leads to a reduction in the stress hormone cortisol, she said.

Prof. Michelle Liu Carriger, chair of the UCLA theater department, thinks the recent popularity of clowning could make people realize that seriousness doesn’t get us where we need to go. “The things that got us through tough pandemic times weren’t just washing our hands and listening to health professionals, but finding ways to loosen up, calm down and let off steam.”

Many class members said what they liked about Clown Cardio, which meets in three Los Angeles neighborhoods, is connecting with others. Matthew Moore, a 55-year-old actor, producer and artistic director of Improv for the People, is 6 feet tall and makes sure he doesn’t bump into people he calls “smaller people” during class.

Throughout the hour, the competitors were tender with each other, making sure no one got hurt during a heated pile-up. Safety is a crucial part of maintaining humor in the classroom. “It’s not funny when a clown gets hit in the face with a frying pan and then doesn’t get up,” said Sam Sullivan, 25, a carpenter living in El Sereno who took a clown class in college and now attends Clown Cardio. In fact, “that’s sad.”

Several students said taking the class helped them cope with coulrophobia, or clownphobia. MX. Sullivan used to be afraid of clowns, but has come to the conclusion that “clowning is not so much about putting on makeup and scaring people, but about facing failure.”