Spiral

As much as I would like to say that the creation is moving along slowly, its not. Its moving along at breakneck speed. Maybe not so far as setting the actual content goes, but the time and the days? That would be yes.

Last week, we started a new schedule where everyone has set training time on stage. I was very excited about this, thinking how wonderful it would be to have the entire space to myself and actually be able to work properly. As it turns out, the schedule is so strictly set that I have my two hours and only my two hours. It used to be that I could sneak in here and there and at least work on my straight line figures, but not anymore. Especially since there's trampo-mur all the time. Guh. I am in the trampo-mur number, of course, and so I do want the number to be good and I do want to work on those figures as well. But when my secondary act is getting more of my time than my lovely wheel? That's where I draw the line.

To add to my frustration, my hours were at 9:00am and 9:30am, respectively. I'm not much of a morning person as it is, and I am hardly acrobatic that early in the morning. Plus, at that time, the heat has been off in the Chapiteau for at least 12 hours. Unless you practice some kind of winter sport, you should not be able to see your breath in your training space. Also, I don't know if you've tried handling large metal objects that have been in the cold for many hours, but I can assure it is not nearly as enjoyable as you may think.

Now, I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at what I do. But that doesn't change the fact that I need to practice a lot. There are three categories of skills that I perform (straight lines, spirals and dismounts) and each of those require a certain amount of training time. Plus, I need to better understand the space I'm working in because as it is right now, the dimensions of the stage really mess with my head. Then there's the artistic element that needs work, and frankly, when you don't have a stable apparatus (its a wheel, it rolls) you're essentially working technique.

Did I mention I also have to create the number? And run it a whole bunch of times before we open so that I actually have the endurance to get through it? Because as of right now, my muscles pretty much give out midway through.

Sigh.

Some might say (and have said) that I should cut down on the technique. But I am a stubborn, stubborn woman. There are those in the circus world who believe that technique is everything. There are those who believe that artistic is more important and that its okay to sacrifice technique for artistic. I don't fall into either camp. I believe that as circus artists, we should strive for the highest level of technique possible, with the richest degree of artistry we are capable of. People don't go to see the circus to see simple tricks. They want death defying feats! But they also expect more. I could easily go watch a gymnastics competition if I want to see big tricks. But at the end of the day, I'll have experienced nothing.

And that is where the magic of circus lies.

Circus takes the incredible acrobatic prowess of gymnastics and combines it with the flare of the theatre, and the physical expression of emotion of dance. Its the combination of these three things that raise circus to an art form.

Hm. I went a little off topic there, didn't I?

The good news is, I've found a solution to my training problem. I've just about tripled my training time by soliciting the local elementary school for space in their gym. Now I can train like a crazy woman at the school, and use my two piddly hours on stage for what they were meant for: working with the musicians and running the number.

Now if only I could figure out how to make the day a little longer...

Putting the 'Rad' in 'Rhoenrad'

The title of this blog post, as you've undoubtedly noticed, is also the description of this blog. I don't think I've ever really bothered to explain what the heck it means. And seeing as I want to start writing about what its referring to, now seems as good a time as any.

As you know, I am a circus artist. Like all good circus artists, I actually do something in the circus, and that something is German Wheel. Now if you're thinking "German Wheel, eh? Betcha that comes from Germany!", you would be correct. Sadly, not everyone is that clever. Now, if you're really clever, you would probably guess that the Germans do not call it German Wheel. They have their own name for it, and that name is (wait for it) Rhoenrad.

In summation, "Putting the 'Rad' in 'Rhoenrad'" is really nerdy German Wheel humour combining 80s slang and a nod to the apparatus' origins that only someone who does German Wheel would get.

If even.

So for all you nerdy German Wheelers out there, here's some more German Wheel goodness!


Look at all the wheels! Pretty, pretty wheels! Its better than Christmas and my birthday combined! Mmm... Hopefully, I'll be getting another taste of that kind of German Wheel goodness in the not to distant future. But that is a post for another day.

Genius

In keeping with the theme of creativity, I would like to share with you a video of a talk I found at ted.com. Its given by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of, in her own words, the freakishly successful Eat, Pray, Love.

There is so much truth and wisdom in what Ms. Gilbert has to say, that there's really no point in my going on about it. If you have 20 minutes or so on hand, I highly recommend you devote them to watching this video.

Enjoy.

To Create is to Destroy

This is something I have been meaning to blog about since before I left Canada. Seven weeks later, I'm finally getting around to it. Better late than never I suppose.

Before coming to France I bought myself a journal to supplement my creative process. Not just any journal, however. No, no. The sole purpose of this journal is to be slowly, and systematically destroyed.

The journal is called Wreck this Journal and was written (if you will) by Keri Smith. The book certainly does have space for journaling, but really, it consists mostly of propositions lending to its destruction.

This might sound really fun (and it is), but let me tell you something about my relationship with books. I love them. I treasure them. I take great care not to damage them in any way. Frayed edges, smudges, tears, or, heaven help me, a broken spine, all these things make me wince. So the idea of buying a perfectly lovely book only to kick its ass from here to your mom's house?

Whoa now.

This is the journal in question:


As you may or may not be able to see, there is a small arrow on the lower right hand corner of the cover. It says "Start Here". And I did. I bent that corner, and I bent it good. I felt bad and strangely exhilarated. Unsurprisingly, one of the first propositions is to break the spine. I did that too.

I may not be giving a clear impression of the book though. While there are all kinds of crazy 'exercises' to do, they are all meant to be approached with complete freedom. The instructions at the beginning of the book flat out say to interpret everything however you choose. Its just nice to have a choice of paths to follow.

Some of my favourites include documenting your dinner on one page by smearing your food all over it, tying a string to the journal and swinging it around wildly and allowing it to hit walls, taking a shower with the journal, inviting random strangers to write in the journal, and, should the journal get lost, inviting whoever finds it to randomly choose a page, do what it says, and mail it back to the owner.

Those are all pretty extreme examples. Maybe that's why I like them. But there are more simple things like collecting fruit stickers, covering the page in circles and tracing your hands.

I have much more to say on the subject, but that is best left for another day when I have better documentation of the destruction of my journal.

A voir...

The Creation Marches On

Today, it would seem, is the official halfway mark of the creation. It is also the first day of the new schedule, which means I now have most of my mornings off. Both of these things mean nothing when compared with the news that within the next fifteen days we will be running the show.

Its a really funny thing, this whole creative process. You do a whole bunch of improvisations, make some propositions, develop characters and scenes, go through all the acts of making a show and yet somehow there's this lingering denial that you will ever have to put it all together and, you know, show it to people.

If I have any conflicting emotions as an artist, its that I want to perform, but good God don't make me show you my work! Its simply amazing to me that after all this work, all the years of sacrifice leading up to my adventures with this company, that all these things are finally coming to fruition and all I can think is "Seriously? Do we have to?"

I admit, I'm really hard on myself. I'm a perfectionist. And despite being fully aware that its impossible to look good and get better at the same time, I cringe when I have to show a work in progress.

But this is the dream! This is the reality! Like I just wrote, this is the point of all that work and suffering. And maybe that's the frightening thing. If there's one thing worse than failing at your dream, its the moment right before you achieve it.

What if you're not ready? What if it turns out you hate it? What if no one cares? What if you never have another dream again? Then what?

That's a pretty vulnerable position to put your spirit in.

And yet countless artists do. And I have no doubt that they will continue to do so. And despite my anxiety, I have no doubt that I will continue to do so as well.

Just... don't look 'til I'm ready.

Pee Buckets and Space Kettles

I live in a caravan.

Its wee, but its home.

For some reason mine is one of the only caravans that doesn't have running water, but I suppose if I put up a fuss, that could change. I'm just not that fussy. And for a good reason. In my caravan, I have the two things that make everything just dandy.

I have a chamber pot, and I have a kettle.

But not just any chamber pot, and not just any kettle. No, no. I have the biggest freaking pee bucket you have ever seen ("It was all they had!" our handy man assures me) and I have a princess kettle from outer space (also the last one they had).

First, the chamber pot. Up until very recently, I would get up between two and five times a night to use the facilities. Two and five times. Its bad enough in an actual house that is warm, and where the loo is but steps away. But when hitting up the can means having to bundle up, go outside in the cold, cold night and make the trek to the equally cold, cold bathroom? A few times a night? That, my friend, is beyond lame.

Of course, having to schlep your elephant sized pee bucket across the site in order to empty and clean it every morning is a might embarrassing. But with the exception of that last sentence, I'm not complaining.

Behold! The pee bucket, in all its glory!


I threw in the roll of tp for perspective.

Then there is my kettle. My glorious, wondrous, Princess Kettle from Outer Space (so named by a dear friend and colleague). The reasons for having a kettle are numerous and obvious, so there's really no need to go into them here. But I suspect you may be wondering why my kettle is so damned amazing. Well...

My kettle is a sexy stainless steel number, with a slightly rocket shaped body. I might only see that last bit because of the space kettle thing. One really cool feature of this kettle is that is has a little window that lets you see the water inside it boiling. But that's not the best part. The best part is that when you turn it on, that little window lights up a crazy electric blue! When the water starts to boil you can see all the crazy bubbles, lit up in their glory. Its like the kettle thinks its part lava lamp.

Already, there's nothing like a steaming cup of tea. But when every cup of tea you make is a party? That's what I'm talking about.


The above photo hardly does my kettle justice. But trust me on this one. My kettle is the bees knees.

Vive la Revolution!

Since my arrival in France, there have been many events that I must admit I was not prepared for. Things I just really didn't expect to happen. One of those things was taking to the streets with picket signs.

I woke up (late) Thursday morning expecting a few hours of group trampoline. Normally the kitchen is pretty empty by the time I get there in the morning but on this sunny Thursday, it was packed.

"There's no trampoline today," is the response received by my quizzical look, "we're all going to Besancon to march in a protest."

Ah.

A protest against what? No one answers me. Everyone is too excited and frustrated to pay attention to the Canadian. But this march does concern me. Its about wages and job security and directly affects this foreigner.

Now, you have to understand, this is a big screaming deal. We're in the middle of creating a show. We've reached the half way point of creation. We've had meetings trying to figure out if we are in fact going to take a day off at Easter. Same goes for the French Labour day. And yet, at the drop of a hat, we're cutting rehearsal so we can go picket.

You know that art scandal that happened with the EU not too long ago? They were really quite on the mark for France...


Anyway... I have been to a couple of protests in my time. But it must be said that we Canadians are generally pretty timid when it comes to that kind of thing. And we've certainly got nothing on France.

I could go into great detail but I think the entire thing can be summed up by this point: At one point during the march, they were actually blasting music from Les Misérables on loud speakers.

I'm just going to give you a moment to let that sink in...

Les Misé-freakin-rables.

Yeah.

And yet, no matter how intense that may seem to me (that and people handing out song lyrics to their protest songs so everyone can sing together), I admit that I admire the French for their cantankerousness. At least they get things done.

Video footage of the protest can be found here.

Anatomy of a Creation

I think I may have mentioned this in an earlier post, but here it is again. Around the beginning of the creation, one of my colleagues and I started to predict how each week would be. For the first four weeks, we were dead on. Now, we are learning how the rest of a three month creation can be dissected.

The results so far:

Week one: Physically very challenging. We haven't worked this hard in, um, a while. We are sore.

Week two: Still very challenging physically. Turns out we haven't worked this hard since, um, school.

Week three: Mentally and emotionally challenging. The words "What am I doing here? I want to go home" come to mind.

Week four: Even more mentally and emotionally challenging. The words "Everything I do is shit" come to mind.

Week five: Drama.

What will week six have in store? I'm hoping its cupcakes. But right now, I'm kind of feeling like week six is going to be like a second wind and I'm really hoping to be the mayor of this week's ass. It would certainly be a welcomed change.

Here's hoping. I'll keep you posted...

Skylight

I kind of feel like anyone who stumbles upon this blog can't help but be left with the impression that I'm an unhappy person. Or more aptly, a disaster. That's really not the case. Admittedly, I've been going through some rough times lately. To a certain extent, I think its to be expected. This is my first big contract, I'm far from home, and, as a rule, I tend to worry a lot. Not a good mix.

Last week, I hit the wall and went into full out dark and cloudy mode. This week started out well and then I got sick. It doesn't look good when from one week to the next, one of the artists constantly seems like they can't handle, and won't handle, being a part of the troupe.

Understandably, the director has been getting on my case. Not because he's an ass, but because he cares quite a lot. From what I've learned about him, he tends to take his own worries out on those around him. And considering the amount on his plate, I don't blame him. It doesn't change the fact that I feel extremely guilty for not being the picture perfect acrobat as of late.

So I just want to throw this out into the Universe: I am happy. I am happy to be here. I feel blessed to be doing what I love with people that I love. And while there will undoubtedly be more dark and cloudy moments, I am not afraid.

Allez!

The back of my knees are burned.

The fronts of my knees are skinned.

I have bruises down the length of my thigh and and my hips bones are purple.

I have broken blood vessels in the crook of my elbow and a large bump on the back of my head.

Every muscle in my body aches.

And yet...

I feel wonderful and would walk on air if you asked me to.

Quel vie de cirque.

Picking up the pieces

Every time I sit down to write, my mind goes blank. The events of the last two weeks have consumed all of my time and energy. My head has been a complete and total mess. I came very near to hitting the bottom.

Oddly enough, one of my friends and I had pretty much predicted the way things would go. The first two weeks would be brutal on the body, the third and fourth weeks on the mind and soul. Did we ever hit our mark.

I don't feel the need to go into to much detail. It was one of those "everything that could go wrong did go wrong" kind of things coupled with having met my limit on pretty much everything.

The good thing to have come from all of this is that I have learned who my real pillars of strength are in this circus family of mine. Also, by some miracle, through the thickest moments, I managed to create most of my number.

This is a big deal for a couple of reasons. For starters, it usually takes me a really long time to choreograph a number. Not to mention that ordinarily, I wouldn't have been able to work on anything in the state I was in. I think that in all the chaos of creation, German wheel has been a rock for me. I know I'm good at it and I love it to no end. In the past, it has always been a source of nervousness. Now its my greatest comfort.

Have I ever even mentioned that I do German wheel? No so much, eh? Well, that's what I do and I dare say, I do it well.

My friend and I never did figure out what the fifth week of creation would bring. I hope it brings some German wheel stage time. I'm getting ready to show where I am in my work and I could use a small victory.