Clowning world mourns Jolly Goodfellow, a performer in a class of his own

Legends abound and his life off stage was as chaotic and adventurous as his shows. He often checked in at airports in full costume to reduce the weight of his suitcases, laden with rubber snakes, balls, spring shoes and noisemakers. He once landed at Heathrow, dressed as a jester, and when asked at customs if he had money for his stay, presented a bag of Australian coins. He was put straight back on a plane to Melbourne.

En route to a festival in Austria, his friends accidentally left him behind at a service station, returning to find him in his undies holding a toothbrush. They hadn’t noticed he had got out of the truck to freshen up.

Rumpel has been described as sweet, brave, strange, gentle, humble, authentic, endearing, prolific, vulnerable, irritating, achingly funny, properly silly, from another dimension, allergic to cash, the kookiest of kooks, a child at heart, highly skilled at circus tricks, and always late for planes and parties. “He really was the performer’s performer,” said Annie Lee, a former partner, long-term friend and member of comedy trio the Kransky Sisters.

Jolly — who changed his name from Sean by deed poll — was born with muscular dystrophy, a genetic condition his father also had. Around 2008, Rumpel was in a serious car crash on the way to Burning Man in the US, which Antonia thinks “flicked a switch” and triggered the disease. He settled in LA, clowning and working as an extra, before returning to Australia in 2019. Struggling with his health, he was restless, and in June this year returned to LA to get back into performing and sort out his props, which included a hurdy-gurdy and a Volkswagen Beetle painted like a ladybug.

The death of the once-in-a-generation performer has shocked many, and a Facebook page dedicated to him is filled with an endless stream of funny, adoring anecdotes. One fan, who witnessed the end of his legendary 53-hour performance in Poland, said the world needs characters like him more than ever: “Undoing the serious matters of life if only for a moment, and making us approach reality with a smile and a good laugh. It was a crown that Rumpel wore like no other ... Jest In Peace, King of Clowns.”