As the world burns, we all want to get a little weird

In a world that seems almost daily less tied to sanity, reality and certainty, it’s hardly a surprise that clowning is back.

Not your circus-traditional big shoes and squirty flower variety of clowning but more the surreal, unsettling, anarchic kind that can provide a coping mechanism and perhaps a mirror for the real-world absurdity that surrounds us.

According to Sydney Fringe chief executive Patrick Kennedy, recently returned from the World Fringe Congress in San Diego, it is one of the major themes of fringes worldwide. And it is also one the strongest currents running through this year’s Sydney Fringe Festival, set to bring more than 2500 artists and 366 shows to 69 venues across the city from August 29.

“The world is so absurd and so horrific that the only solution to that is to see something even more absurd that is so far from real life,” he says. “It’s that nonsensical uplifting comedy that you need in a world that seems to be on fire.”

Among the clown-heavy offerings are Freidah Will See You Now with Caitlin Duff playing a clown charged with bringing souls over the Styx to the afterlife; Landed from veteran merchants of chaos Frumpus; and Nun Slut, described as “an absurd journey through religion, the body and Barnaby Joyce”.

Now in its 17th year, Kennedy believes Sydney Fringe Festival, which launches its program today, is more important than ever as the cost of living squeeze and the citywide dearth of venues conspire to make life harder than ever for independent artists.

“Sydney Fringe was set up initially to answer that problem of giving equitable access to artists to infrastructure within the city. For the past 17 years we’ve been working towards that,” he says. “We may not be as flashy as Melbourne, but we have a very, very lively artistic community in Sydney.”

Kennedy is also conscious Sydney Fringe continues to suffer an identity problem alongside better understood events such as Sydney Festival.

“We must build audience capacity and understanding of what Fringe is,” he says. “We’ve put lots of effort this year into education for audiences around what the verb ‘to Fringe’ means.”

Sydney Fringe is also focusing on educating performers themselves about the at times bewildering business of entertainment.

“It’s probably the only industry where the artist is expected to be an expert in marketing, publicity, production, technical theatre, insurance, risk … You are loaded with all the responsibilities of a producer,” says Kennedy. “We are trying not to leave artists stranded with that, so in February we start a series of masterclasses that touch on things around tax, insurance, marketing. All that sort of stuff.”

This year’s Fringe is staged against the backdrop of squeezed household entertainment budgets that have recently seen the failure of several high-profile shows, including Waitress and Beetlejuice, for lack of ticket sales. Kennedy is keen to promote the festival as a good value night out with an average ticket price of $29.

“People are looking for something affordable,” he says. “We always think about the pipeline of an audience member, which is not just buying a ticket. It’s the parking, the travel, it’s the food. We’re making it as easy as possible to have a good night out and that involves partnerships with local business where you can show your tickets and receive discounts for dinner or drinks.”