Seth Bloom, a blue-haired clown and virtuoso of physical comedy who helped aid groups in Afghanistan and other remote places put on circuses that brought smiles to children’s faces while teaching them important life skills, such as how to avoid landmines, died Aug. 2 in Poughkeepsie, New York. He was 49.

He committed suicide, said his wife Christina Gelsone, with whom he performed in two-person clown shows around the world, including at the Big Apple Circus in New York City.

The Harlem-based duo, who performed as the Acrobuffos, were known for “Air Play,” an hour-long wordless show for children and families that featured balloons, giant silks and Styrofoam packing chips floating through the theater.

Like his purple-haired wife, Mr. Bloom eschewed the usual clown props – floppy shoes, horns, rubber chickens – and instead devoted himself to an artistic comedy that mixed physical silliness with music and the expression of curiosity, wonder and love.

“Seth was like a jazz musician of physical comedy and clowning,” said David Kilpatrick, director of education at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, which staged “Air Play” in one of its largest theaters two years ago. “He was clearly an extraordinary artist who engaged in a kind of connective, communal laughter that was truly transformative.”

Bloom’s career and his relationship with Ms. Gelsone began in one of the most humorless and unromantic places in the world: Afghanistan in 2003, shortly after the United States overthrew the Taliban.

“Two clowns meet in Afghanistan – that sounds like a joke,” Mr Bloom often said.

Mr. Bloom, who had studied at the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Clown College, traveled there on the recommendation of his mother, an international aid worker. She had heard of an organization, the Mobile Mini Circus for Children, that was trying to put on educational clown shows in remote areas of the country. Ms. Gelsone was in Kabul, the Afghan capital, doing similar work for the Bond Street Theater, a New York troupe.

“We wanted to do a circus but had no experience,” said David Mason, founder of Mobile Mini Circus for Children, in an interview. “We gathered some equipment, like juggling clubs. We did our best, but we had bruises all over our bodies from throwing the clubs and them hitting us on the head, nose and body.”

Mr Bloom taught the group how to use clown equipment (safely) and helped Mr Mason design texts and costumes that entertained the children and educated them about the dangers that surrounded them. One text on malaria explained the correct use of mosquito nets. Another taught the children how to behave if they came near an area where there might be landmines.

“The country is barren and beautiful,” Bloom told circus blog The Widow Stanton. “I was in areas where no media came, and no one was taking positive pictures of laughing children and laughing mullahs and old men with donkey carts arriving to watch our shows.”

He saw himself as a helper in the country’s reconstruction, overlooked by many aid organizations and politicians. His work there made him an early pioneer of the social circus movement, in which clowns entertain and educate children in the most troubled areas of the world.

“Hospitals and infrastructure are part of what we need,” he told the New York Times in 2009. “But people have to be people. What we do makes children dream. What we do makes them imagine a future.”

Eventually, Bloom and Gelsone began dating. They returned to Afghanistan for seven years, including for their honeymoon, after marrying during a performance in China in 2007. The bride wore a dress made of hundreds of small white balloons.

“It’s not the best place for a honeymoon, if anyone’s interested,” Bloom told Pennsylvania newspaper The Morning Call. “Most of the time you’re sleeping in rooms with other people.”

The original scripts that Bloom helped write are still used in Afghanistan. At least 4.3 million children have seen the shows, according to Mason. Bloom and his wife also started a program for Darfur refugees and street children in Egypt and teach social circus in Mexico, Chile, Taiwan and elsewhere.

“Seth was strong – not just physically, but vocally,” Mason said. “He knew exactly what he knew and what he wanted from us. That gave us the confidence that we were in the right hands and that this guy knows what’s right.”

Seth Allan Bloom was born on January 4, 1975 in Washington. His father, Peter Bloom, was in the diplomatic service. His mother, Gretchen (Brandow) Bloom, worked for the World Food Program.

Seth grew up all over the world, including India, Kenya, and Sri Lanka, and learned to juggle after returning to Washington for high school.

“When I was applying to college, I saw that I could either go to a regular college and continue to learn English, French and math, or I could go to a clown college and learn to throw pies, wear big shoes and fall over,” he told The Widow Stanton. “And I thought that would be fun.”

At age 19, he enrolled at Ringling Clown College and graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Fun Arts (serious) in 1993. He then toured the country as a professional juggler and studied at the Dell’Arte International School of Physical Theater in Northern California. He earned a Bachelor of Arts in Dance from Wesleyan University in 2000 and a Master’s in Physical Theater from the London International School of Performing Arts in 2005.

His wife always introduced him at clown workshops as “the most over-educated clown in the world.”

The Acrobuffos performance took the couple around the world. During a part of “Air Play”, probably their biggest hit, they jumped around in giant balloons with only their heads visible.

“The most important thing we learned from climbing in balloons is not to fart,” Mr Bloom once said.

In addition to his wife, Mr. Bloom leaves behind his father and his sister Claire Bloom.

In recent years, Mr. Bloom suffered from debilitating foot pain, most likely a result of his performances. After shows, he would soak his feet in ice baths. More than 40 podiatrists examined him, but the treatments did not help with the pain.

“He had to be so careful on stage,” Ms. Gelsone said. “We would climb into these huge balloons and jump in them, and that was the worst thing for his feet. And so there were days when I would say, ‘Don’t jump today. I’ll jump twice as high for you.'”

If you are having suicidal thoughts, call 988 or text the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline or go to SpeakingOfSuicide.com/resources for a list of additional resources.