Speaking to professional clown Zhao Faqiang evokes memories of the coy, bowlegged mustachioed man we see in the 1936 Charlie Chaplin classic, Modern Times. In the film's most famous scene, Chaplin, playing a factory worker circa the American industrial revolution, falls into the internal mechanics of an assembly line, his limp frame bending round every wheel and cog before being spat out. Zhao is very much a round peg in the square hole of China's industrial culture. But luckily, Zhao has found a way to escape the factory unscathed through work tying balloons into daisies at weddings and performing magic tricks for groups of toddlers.

Born in Shandong Province, Zhao, 24, opted for a career as a professional clown a year after moving to Beijing in 2010. While Zhao's friends from Shandong earn an average wage in Beijing assembling smart phones, Zhao earns sometimes three times their salaries each year.

As an amateur employed by Beijing Xibei Communication Company, Zhao used to make 700 yuan ($114) per month. Now that can top 4,000 yuan for an annual salary of up to 50,000 yuan.

The currently self-employed performer is visibly uncomfortable discussing how much he earns, saying he fears it will breed jealousy among his friends. But like so many professional entertainers, Zhao treats his occupation as an escape from personal insecurities, rather than as a money-making scheme to get ahead.

Speaking with Metropolitan in the lobby of an office block on Guanghua Lu, Chaoyang district, Zhao says he suffered from intense shyness at a young age. This explains in part what Zhao calls the "feeling of total transformation" he receives each time he wears his jester costume and goes before audiences of excited, giggling kids.

Despite willingly showing up in his clowning garb - a polka-dotted one-piece with accompanying red nose, lensless specs and curly yellow wig - Zhao says he remains self-conscious about being thought of as a beggar in disguise.

"Basically, a lot of people see clowning as play rather than work," he says. "Performers in China are often accused of cheating people by making fun of themselves in order to manipulate others through pity." 

A clown is born

Zhao's first encounter with the clowning profession in Beijing came on Christmas Eve 2010.

"I saw a clown touting to kids in a shopping mall wearing a cartoon costume," he recalls. "I was immediately convinced that this would become my thing, so I returned to my apartment and did my homework."

Zhao cites several earlier influences that led to his decision to become a clown. A fan of Chaplin, Buster Kea­ton and acts like Zhai Changle, known from the popular Chinese TV show Avenue of the Stars, Zhao says he took inspiration from these slapstick stars to break free from his shell.

"I was a very shy boy at school," he says. "I'm still no good at talking to strangers or meeting new people. Kids don't judge clowns the way adults do, though."

Playing the fool

Hiring Zhao to perform for a child's birthday party can be educational as well as entertaining. Zhao confesses to possessing limited skill as a magician. However, a trick that never fails to riddle the youngsters is his "water in the box trick."

"I have this box that I pour two cups of water into," he says. "When I turn the box upside down, nothing comes out. The kids gape, spellbound."

Zhao says he plays to the kids who love magic but want to know the secret behind the sorcery. Zhao has developed his water in the box act to include a deliberate slip-up: after the routine, he absentmindedly upturns the box, revealing a sponge at the base.

"They love that. I guess it makes them feel clever for cracking the secret," he says. "There's also that element of humiliating the fool. They think, 'He's such an idiot! He's given the secret away!' I don't mind that, though. I'm happy to show them how my magic is done."

Entertaining adults is a long-term ambition for Zhao, who says he would like to form a supergroup of clown acts known as the Beijing Clowning Art Troupe. He has so far recruited two members for the group, both of whom are former Beijing factory workers. However, Zhao says the group's name "may need some work" before it goes public.  

"I have performed for adults before, though adults are much more sedate than kids. When we do well, adults will applaud and cheer. But children act on impulse. They'll yell out the secret behind a magic trick if they see it, and they understand body language and facial expressions much better," he says.  

Looking for love

Away from center stage, Zhao quickly misses the attention he receives from young audiences, who he says liberate him from his timid disposition. The approval of families and kids remains his primary outlet, for the time being. Zhao says he would like to have a family of his own one day, though past relationships have been disappointing.

"I meet women on a short-term basis for now. I'm 24. It's time to start dating people," he says. "Trouble is, I don't know how! I've dated three girls, one from Beijing, another two from Shandong. My ex from Beijing rejected me for 'fiddling,' as she called it [clowning]. I didn't even tell the other two what I do for a living, for fear the whole village would find out."

Even Zhao says he is willing to admit that the job, while often rewarding, is by no means a steady payroll. Zhao's parents, both farmers in Shandong, have nonetheless come to see the value in Zhao's career.   

"My living conditions have improved here. My parents know how much I earn. They've never pushed me one way or another," he says.

Zhao may be a clown, but his pensiveness shows he is no fool. Bringing joy to those who see the world afresh is enough to justify his career, Zhao says. He considers himself lucky to have avoided a lifetime of cheap migrant labor in factories.

"I get to do what I want this way," he says. "My job brings me happiness, as well as joy to others, especially kids. Few people can say that."