It’s a clown’s world

Saturday, July 1, 2000 | 8:46 a.m.

When Ron Lee envisioned his future, he saw people working at long tables -- handcrafting products designed by him.

Jokingly, the 53-year-old Lee said last week: "Be careful what you wish for."

In a small clown factory encircled by a patch of undeveloped desert in Henderson, Lee has his long work tables.

His staff members work diligently, jars of paint stacked before them. Nearly 25 years after creating "Hobo Joe," his first clown, Lee's line of clown collectibles is world-renowned.

He's created more than 2,000 designs, including lines for Walt Disney and Warner Bros. Avid collectors boast of owning hundreds of the colorful statuettes.

"I sell over 100,000 sculptures a year," said Lee, the son of a florist who knew his future would involve craftsmanship and creativity.

His factory, Ron Lee's World of Clowns, also offers free tours and features a gallery, a gift shop, cafe and carousel.

When not touring retail shops, Lee said he's at the factory creating or helping in the cafe. He designs "24 hours a day."

"My mind doesn't rest," he said. "I'm sitting here now talking to you wondering what I'm going to work on next."

Most likely it will have something to do with a clown.

"I love clowns," he said. "Everybody loves a clown. You can just change a person by sticking a red nose on them. They'll do something crazy.

"Nobody can look at anything I have and say 'God that depresses me.' "

In the gallery, the colorfully painted clown figurines play golf, walk a high wire, ride mopeds, blow horns, rake leaves and drive cars. They sing in nightclubs, play craps and ride fire engines.

Clown memorabilia -- including a memorial to Ceslee Conkling, a clown who died when a circus train derailed -- hangs on the walls and fits snug over mannequins.

By allowing visitors to see the crafting of his clowns, Lee has also created a popular tourist destination.

But when Lee and his wife, Jill, moved the family business to Henderson six years ago from Southern California, the prospect of creating a destination at the site was not clear.

"At the time it was a real gutsy move," Lee said. "Nothing was out this way."

Although the city has grown up around the pink building, his main traffic remains the sporadic bus tours and collectors who come specifically for the clowns.

The tour is educational -- and inspirational. "It lets them know that it's possible to dream up an idea that's original and make a career out of it," Lee said.

It also provides a platform for Lee to share dreams he has yet to fulfill.

A miniature model of an amusement park, complete with tiny lights, rides and people, sits near the entrance of the building. "If I could have built my 'Ronnie World,' that's what it would have been," he said. "I love rides. I love lights. I'm a kid at heart.

"If I had the money I'd build a kiddie land for ages 12 and under. I grew up with a kiddie land in Los Angeles. They don't have anything like that here."

Las Vegas, however, is home to a man he says he admires most -- Steve Wynn. "He does things I wish I could do. He's brought tremendous visual effects to the city."

While Wynn's creations are large scale, Lee's small-scale works are nothing to scoff at.

With the drop of a quarter in a coin slot, his collection of carnival rides near the back of the gallery comes to life. Green dragons carry miniature people round and round. Flying elephants with blushed cheeks soar through the air and the gold-plated Ferris wheel displays a myriad of colors.

When the quarter runs out, the lights dim and the rides stop, but the story continues as workers behind the picture windows pour, plate and paint the circus life.

More than 60 people are employed at the factory. The dozen or so painters are hand picked. Each takes a paint test. Given 30 applicants, Lee said, maybe one will be qualified.

Once the sculptures are cast, workers assemble them in the soldering room. The sculptures are then gold plated, painted, placed on onyx bases and sprayed with high gloss.

Visitors can watch the entire process while passing exhibits of clown outfits, padded shoes and traveling trunks that silently retell stories of life under the big top.

"There's a story behind all of these costumes," Lee said. Clowns from all over the country donated their outfits.

Nearly 600 trademark clown faces painted on goose eggs are set in a lighted display case that runs the length of a wall.

Never a professional clown, Lee said if he weren't an artist, he would be selling shoes "like Al Bundy." More seriously, he'd be a fireman, he said.

Before he settled on the clown motif, Lee sculpted North American wildlife and Western-themed statues. Along with his clowns, he's designing miniature models of motor yachts he plans to market.

"We're working on something new all the time," he said.