No matter how frustrating things got in California, no matter how head-smackingly unbelievable; one thing made it all worth while. And while this is going to sound horribly cliché, it was the children. Specifically, little girls.
I used to work at a girl's clothing store and let me tell you, there was a considerable amount of clothing that was hardly appropriate for little girls. Fish nets, crop tops, satin nighties, open back shirts... all these items were available for girls as young as five! Can you imagine a five year old girl in a triangle string bikini? What exactly is going to keep that top in place? Especially on a wiggly little kid?
But I'm getting a little off topic. The point is, it seems to me that there aren't many options out there for little girls. I see so many of them who appear to be dressed way older than they are, and let's face it, its not like there are that many positive, strong role models out there for young girls.
When little girls would come up to me after a show, full of questions and awe, it made me feel really good. I don't imagine they often have the opportunity to see a young woman who is strong, dynamic, elegant and fierce. I could see on the faces of these young girls that this was entirely new to them.
Yes, there are Olympic gymnasts, but typically, the ones who make the presses are the cutesy little darling types. The emphasis tends to be put on their sweetness rather than their skill. Think Dominic Moceanu or Shawn Johnson.
I know that when I was a little girl, seeing a strong young woman, without ribbons and ruffles, living her dream and actually earning a living from it would have been a tremendous experience. I may not have known it at the time, but often, it only takes a second for a seed to take root, and a single instant can remain with us for a lifetime. I was 10 when I saw Quidam. And the only acts I remember from that show are tissu and German wheel. Not banquine (everyone is shocked that I don't remember the incredible banquine act from that show), but German wheel. Now, I do wheel for a living and the first Canadian to compete at the German Wheel World Championships.
It only takes an instant.
And it's instants like that, where a child looks at you and sees limitless possibilities before them, that they can be more than what popular culture dictates... that doesn't just make the job worthwhile. It reaffirms that this entire career path was the right choice and that it's a very important job to be doing.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Flashback I: It's the Apocalypse!
It was the last show of the week and we were all aching for our first days off since arriving in California. As we waited for our cue in the depths of the park basement, an unknown force was about to unleash total chaos.
Without warning, the lights went. Our immediate reaction was "Hooray!", quickly followed by "um... it's really dark down here..."
After about thirty seconds emergency lights came on and park employees started scrambling about trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, and also, to keep customers (and their wallets) in the park.
By this time, we had left the basement as it was time to start to show. Some measly power outage wasn't going to stop us! That, and we didn't really know what else to do. Almost as soon as we were back above ground we were told to head back to the basement. The power outage was park wide. Rides stopped and people were stranded. The folks on the roller coasters actually had to get out of the cars and climb down! Only one generator was operational and all its juice was going towards getting people off the stranded cable cars before they fried in the afternoon sun.
Meanwhile, in the basement, we were all very excited about the possibility of having the afternoon off and heading to the beach. After all, there was no music. And no music means no show! However, before we could get our hopes to high, a messenger came to tell us that yes, we would be doing the show, there would be no music, and for the love of god, make it longer and keep people in the park!
In other words, no pressure.
What followed was an extremely enriching experience that left me feeling very proud of my fellow acrobats and I.
I have never been one for street performing. I have huge amounts of respect for those who do it, and greatly admire those who do it well. Its just not something that I want to do myself. Fortunately, the opening act in the show is performed by a diaboloist and seasoned street performer. He set the mood brilliantly, working the crowd and setting the pace for the show.
Quick whispers between artists on stage meant improvised group scenes so that no one would be left alone on the silent stage. Songs were started randomly and the rest of the group joined in.
Most acts were extended and all seemed to somehow be upgraded.
The most impressive act of ingenuity would have to have been the improvised drum accompaniment to the simple wheel act. Using nothing but junk in the dressing room, we managed to put together a full out percussion section that flat out rocked it.
Then, during the big romantic moment of the show, the music miraculously came back on! Its true what they say, love overcomes all! Outstanding!
I don't think we ever did a more energetic show, nor were we ever more committed than we were that afternoon. And if the music coming back on right at the love song wasn't enough, the rides began to start up again just as the show ended. Incredible.
Needless to say, I learned a lot about thinking on my feet that day and working with what you've got. My only regret is that the music came back before my number. I didn't have a chance to pull off any skin-of-my-teeth showmanship. But judging by my experiences in circus thus far, I'm sure the opportunity will present itself at some point.
Without warning, the lights went. Our immediate reaction was "Hooray!", quickly followed by "um... it's really dark down here..."
After about thirty seconds emergency lights came on and park employees started scrambling about trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, and also, to keep customers (and their wallets) in the park.
By this time, we had left the basement as it was time to start to show. Some measly power outage wasn't going to stop us! That, and we didn't really know what else to do. Almost as soon as we were back above ground we were told to head back to the basement. The power outage was park wide. Rides stopped and people were stranded. The folks on the roller coasters actually had to get out of the cars and climb down! Only one generator was operational and all its juice was going towards getting people off the stranded cable cars before they fried in the afternoon sun.
Meanwhile, in the basement, we were all very excited about the possibility of having the afternoon off and heading to the beach. After all, there was no music. And no music means no show! However, before we could get our hopes to high, a messenger came to tell us that yes, we would be doing the show, there would be no music, and for the love of god, make it longer and keep people in the park!
In other words, no pressure.
What followed was an extremely enriching experience that left me feeling very proud of my fellow acrobats and I.
I have never been one for street performing. I have huge amounts of respect for those who do it, and greatly admire those who do it well. Its just not something that I want to do myself. Fortunately, the opening act in the show is performed by a diaboloist and seasoned street performer. He set the mood brilliantly, working the crowd and setting the pace for the show.
Quick whispers between artists on stage meant improvised group scenes so that no one would be left alone on the silent stage. Songs were started randomly and the rest of the group joined in.
Most acts were extended and all seemed to somehow be upgraded.
The most impressive act of ingenuity would have to have been the improvised drum accompaniment to the simple wheel act. Using nothing but junk in the dressing room, we managed to put together a full out percussion section that flat out rocked it.
Then, during the big romantic moment of the show, the music miraculously came back on! Its true what they say, love overcomes all! Outstanding!
I don't think we ever did a more energetic show, nor were we ever more committed than we were that afternoon. And if the music coming back on right at the love song wasn't enough, the rides began to start up again just as the show ended. Incredible.
Needless to say, I learned a lot about thinking on my feet that day and working with what you've got. My only regret is that the music came back before my number. I didn't have a chance to pull off any skin-of-my-teeth showmanship. But judging by my experiences in circus thus far, I'm sure the opportunity will present itself at some point.
Epilogue: Part II
I've been back home in Montreal for a few days now. Things seem to be in order, and it looks like I can begin to leave California behind me. Those with whom I had unfinished business have been spoken to, and any remaining issues have been resolved. I really do try to be professional and I wanted to end this debacle on a positive note. Not to mention tie up any loose ends. I feel really good about conversations that took place with the higher ups, as well as those I had with those in my circus community (they were all very supportive).
All that's left to do is write about two events during my brief run in CA that were particularly moving. So without further ado...
All that's left to do is write about two events during my brief run in CA that were particularly moving. So without further ado...
Monday, July 20, 2009
Epilogue: Part I
There is nothing I would like more than to wash my hands of this entire California ordeal. However, there are two points I wanted to write about before certain events left me unemployed. I feel I owe it to... something... to write those two posts. There's also a very good chance I'll have updates on post wheel-death activities.
I'll keep you posted.
I'll keep you posted.
The Dramatic Climax
For those who've been following, its no secret that the contract here in California has been less than stellar. Well, it looks like after an unexpected plot twist, this story has reached its peak.
I've been fired!
But before that happened, my wheel was destroyed!
Isn't life grand?
Normally, my number ends with me doing a front salto out of the wheel. My wheel is then caught by a fellow cast member and the show winds down. Only yesterday, said fellow cast member forgot to go out and catch the wheel.
Hearing the groan of the crowd, I turned just in time to see my wheel plummet from the stage. The freakishly high stage. A vision that will likely haunt me for some time.
As you can imagine, after seeing my wheel drop 2.5m, I was somewhat full of rage. White, blinding rage. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I just knew I needed to get out of there before I killed someone.
I stormed off.
I really think that just about anyone in this situation, having their livelihood destroyed, would have done the same. Once I calmed down, I returned and apologized for my behaviour. I believe in maintaining a certain level of professionalism, but I really blew my gasket. That wheel is my source of income, my first major purchase, and a highly specialized and expensive piece of equipment. Now, it is a piece of junk that I can't even work on.
That evening, I was called in by the producer and told that because of the stir I had caused (for some reason the park decided to call in security), I would be let go. Personally, I think security was called in more because they realized that if my wheel had landed on someone, they'd be in far deeper doo doo.
So there you go. I've been given my out. I can leave this godforsaken place and go home. The company I was working for will cover a certain percentage of the cost of a new wheel and cover the fee for changing my flight. I just hope I can get all this shit sorted out quickly. I have no desire to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary.
Of course, now I can't train between now and September and will be horribly unprepared to continue the tour in France.
Somebody get me out of here.
I've been fired!
But before that happened, my wheel was destroyed!
Isn't life grand?
Normally, my number ends with me doing a front salto out of the wheel. My wheel is then caught by a fellow cast member and the show winds down. Only yesterday, said fellow cast member forgot to go out and catch the wheel.
Hearing the groan of the crowd, I turned just in time to see my wheel plummet from the stage. The freakishly high stage. A vision that will likely haunt me for some time.
As you can imagine, after seeing my wheel drop 2.5m, I was somewhat full of rage. White, blinding rage. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I just knew I needed to get out of there before I killed someone.
I stormed off.
I really think that just about anyone in this situation, having their livelihood destroyed, would have done the same. Once I calmed down, I returned and apologized for my behaviour. I believe in maintaining a certain level of professionalism, but I really blew my gasket. That wheel is my source of income, my first major purchase, and a highly specialized and expensive piece of equipment. Now, it is a piece of junk that I can't even work on.
That evening, I was called in by the producer and told that because of the stir I had caused (for some reason the park decided to call in security), I would be let go. Personally, I think security was called in more because they realized that if my wheel had landed on someone, they'd be in far deeper doo doo.
So there you go. I've been given my out. I can leave this godforsaken place and go home. The company I was working for will cover a certain percentage of the cost of a new wheel and cover the fee for changing my flight. I just hope I can get all this shit sorted out quickly. I have no desire to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary.
Of course, now I can't train between now and September and will be horribly unprepared to continue the tour in France.
Somebody get me out of here.
Friday, July 17, 2009
The Park
Despite the unpleasant bits of this contract, I must admit, the park is pretty cool. Its like being transported back to the 1950s. Bright colours, old school signage, the works. Its really quite spectacular to see. From the stage, we look out onto a roller coaster! Its pretty wild.
Plus, the freakishly high stage is right on the beach! Its always a plus when you know your surroundings will lift your spirits when the production side of things gets you down.
I may not be one for sitting around in the sun, but with views like this:
Even I might be persuaded.
Plus, the freakishly high stage is right on the beach! Its always a plus when you know your surroundings will lift your spirits when the production side of things gets you down.
I may not be one for sitting around in the sun, but with views like this:
Even I might be persuaded.
The Teeter Board
Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce the Hockey Stick Teeter Board* in all its short lived glory!
The head man's reaction to the break?
"Unbelievable."
After all, they did use high impact hockey sticks...
* If you don't know what a teeterboard is, you may not fully grasp the insanity of the above piece of 'equipment'. As always, Youtube has the answer.
The head man's reaction to the break?
"Unbelievable."
After all, they did use high impact hockey sticks...
* If you don't know what a teeterboard is, you may not fully grasp the insanity of the above piece of 'equipment'. As always, Youtube has the answer.
The Contract
The gig I have in France is a long-term thing. As such, I don’t really need to take on side projects. And yet, here I am working in California. I took the job because my coach from circus school gave me the contact. Originally, his daughter was supposed to do the show. Since she would no longer be available, he suggested me. Thinking that my coach wouldn’t send his daughter to do a shitty contract, I figured it must be okay.
Boy was I wrong.
Never in my life have I worked on so unprofessional a project. Already, the man in charge, the man for whom the company is named, knows nothing about circus. During rehearsals, he is always the last one to arrive and typically takes off mid-way through. Once he left so he could go buy himself a big screen tv for his hotel room!
We were having a meeting, and while we, the artists were trying to plan the next day’s rehearsal, he insisted on showing us pictures of other projects he’s done, pictures of his daughter and then some videos.
Despite telling the people at the park that my wheel could not be stored under the stage because of all the sand, I found that in my absence they had moved off stage into the sand anyway. Moreover, instead of putting my wheel back in one of the upstairs storage areas, or even under the stage, it had been left on the stage. Just rockin’ out where anyone could have screwed around on it or taken off with it!
It took me over an hour to clean the sand out of it. The joints were full of sand, the screw holes, the screws themselves! There were screws so full of sand I couldn’t even get the alan key in all the way to remove the screw! Needless to say, there was some serious rage in my belly. Fortunately, our stage manager is a much classier person than the park liaison lady who has been working with us. Apparently when you go down the ladder, you find people who are far more willing to help you out. He was very helpful for finding the right tools to clean my wheel and now we have a storage solution. I am very grateful to him for that.
Two acts in the show were filmed and stolen from other groups. They were then sold to the park we’re working at before they even had anyone to do the acts. There was a teeterboard number up until yesterday. Their first teeterboard broke back in May during the kick off weekend. The replacement teeterboard broke two days after arriving here. Why did it break so soon? Because it was made out of hockey sticks.
You’re mind is probably so boggled by that last statement that it may not have fully sunk it, so I’ll just go and repeat it for you.
HOCKEY STICKS.
From everything I’ve heard from the other artists working on the project, this bullsh*it is just going to continue until the very last day. We’ve only been here for five days and already I’m counting down the days. It’s going to be a long summer.
Boy was I wrong.
Never in my life have I worked on so unprofessional a project. Already, the man in charge, the man for whom the company is named, knows nothing about circus. During rehearsals, he is always the last one to arrive and typically takes off mid-way through. Once he left so he could go buy himself a big screen tv for his hotel room!
We were having a meeting, and while we, the artists were trying to plan the next day’s rehearsal, he insisted on showing us pictures of other projects he’s done, pictures of his daughter and then some videos.
Despite telling the people at the park that my wheel could not be stored under the stage because of all the sand, I found that in my absence they had moved off stage into the sand anyway. Moreover, instead of putting my wheel back in one of the upstairs storage areas, or even under the stage, it had been left on the stage. Just rockin’ out where anyone could have screwed around on it or taken off with it!
It took me over an hour to clean the sand out of it. The joints were full of sand, the screw holes, the screws themselves! There were screws so full of sand I couldn’t even get the alan key in all the way to remove the screw! Needless to say, there was some serious rage in my belly. Fortunately, our stage manager is a much classier person than the park liaison lady who has been working with us. Apparently when you go down the ladder, you find people who are far more willing to help you out. He was very helpful for finding the right tools to clean my wheel and now we have a storage solution. I am very grateful to him for that.
Two acts in the show were filmed and stolen from other groups. They were then sold to the park we’re working at before they even had anyone to do the acts. There was a teeterboard number up until yesterday. Their first teeterboard broke back in May during the kick off weekend. The replacement teeterboard broke two days after arriving here. Why did it break so soon? Because it was made out of hockey sticks.
You’re mind is probably so boggled by that last statement that it may not have fully sunk it, so I’ll just go and repeat it for you.
HOCKEY STICKS.
From everything I’ve heard from the other artists working on the project, this bullsh*it is just going to continue until the very last day. We’ve only been here for five days and already I’m counting down the days. It’s going to be a long summer.
Whew!
Its been two weeks since I've returned from Montpellier and only now have I posted everything I've wanted to post about my time there. Hopefully, entries will now appear around the same time as the events themselves!
Kicking Sawdust will be taking a break from French adventures for the next few weeks, and be 'vacationing' in California.
Its going to be a wild ride...
Kicking Sawdust will be taking a break from French adventures for the next few weeks, and be 'vacationing' in California.
Its going to be a wild ride...
Flaming Os!
If you were to tell me there were flamingos in France, I would tell you to shut the front door. But as it turns out, in the south of France there are real live wild flamingos!
Flamingos!
In the wild!
In France!
Who knew?
Anyway, after hearing the stories and seeing the postcards, we set out in search of flamingos. Our quest brought us to this beautiful little town who’s name escapes me. We drove out towards the low-lying wetlands and sure enough, there were the flamingos. At first, there were only a handful. But they were still flamingos and therefore awesome. By the shore, there were heaps of flamingo feathers! I took a couple as souvenirs and we kept driving. That’s when the real flamingo fun began.
We parked by the side of the road and walked through a dried up portion of the lake. Seriously, there must have been thousands of flamingos just hanging out, scrounging for shrimp. As soon as we arrived, they kind of discreetly moved away. We settled in for a flamingo picnic surrounded by pink flamingo dots. We even saw some fly in. Those bad boys are big! And the undersides of their wings are all black. They were simply glorious.
Maybe the south of France isn’t so bad after all.
Flamingos!
In the wild!
In France!
Who knew?
Anyway, after hearing the stories and seeing the postcards, we set out in search of flamingos. Our quest brought us to this beautiful little town who’s name escapes me. We drove out towards the low-lying wetlands and sure enough, there were the flamingos. At first, there were only a handful. But they were still flamingos and therefore awesome. By the shore, there were heaps of flamingo feathers! I took a couple as souvenirs and we kept driving. That’s when the real flamingo fun began.
We parked by the side of the road and walked through a dried up portion of the lake. Seriously, there must have been thousands of flamingos just hanging out, scrounging for shrimp. As soon as we arrived, they kind of discreetly moved away. We settled in for a flamingo picnic surrounded by pink flamingo dots. We even saw some fly in. Those bad boys are big! And the undersides of their wings are all black. They were simply glorious.
Maybe the south of France isn’t so bad after all.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Chapiteau, O Chapiteau! I Missed You So!
While it can be nice to perform in a theatre, there’s no denying that coming back to the Chapiteau is like coming back home. And the first run through sous Chapiteau would be one helluva homecoming!
Sure, it was nice to have all that room again, and it was nice to know where everything is, but the floor… the floor! Oh the glorious, flat, even, floor! After the abomination that was the floor in La Rochelle, the Chapiteau floor was like a little slice of heaven. My entire number, I had a smile up to my ears. I have never, ever, enjoyed doing German wheel as much as I did in that moment.
Pure bliss.
The rest of the show I think I just skipped around backstage praising the floor and hugging the technicians. Its moments like that that if feels really good to do what I do. The people are great, the conditions are great, the work is great. Sometimes circus is just beyond awesome.
Sure, it was nice to have all that room again, and it was nice to know where everything is, but the floor… the floor! Oh the glorious, flat, even, floor! After the abomination that was the floor in La Rochelle, the Chapiteau floor was like a little slice of heaven. My entire number, I had a smile up to my ears. I have never, ever, enjoyed doing German wheel as much as I did in that moment.
Pure bliss.
The rest of the show I think I just skipped around backstage praising the floor and hugging the technicians. Its moments like that that if feels really good to do what I do. The people are great, the conditions are great, the work is great. Sometimes circus is just beyond awesome.
Montpellier
Every time I try to write about Montpellier the city, the entry ends up being transformed into something completely different. I think there’s a reason for that. And that reason is that Montpellier really didn’t do it for me.
It was nice enough. There were palm trees. There were beaches (that were covered in dead crabs). There were 80 billion cicadas that would not shut up. Lots of people, lots of little shops. One of my favourite aspects of the city was the twisty-turny alleys and side streets. But in the end, the city didn’t speak to me. It was hot, dry, and full of loud and annoying insects. I, for one, am glad to be moving on.
It was nice enough. There were palm trees. There were beaches (that were covered in dead crabs). There were 80 billion cicadas that would not shut up. Lots of people, lots of little shops. One of my favourite aspects of the city was the twisty-turny alleys and side streets. But in the end, the city didn’t speak to me. It was hot, dry, and full of loud and annoying insects. I, for one, am glad to be moving on.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Feelin’ Hot Hot Hot!
In the weeks leading up to Montpellier, I was regaled with horror stories of how Montpellier is incredibly hot. How it was impossible to touch the masts of the chapiteau without burning yourself. How most people didn’t sleep for two weeks because it was just too damn hot.
The city did not disappoint. Fortunately, we were given a week’s reprieve. The really evil weather only came the second week. Of the hot days that were less hot, the temperature at the top of the seats in the chapiteau ranged from 48 to 55 degrees Celsius. Shows were held at 10pm so the tent could cool down a bit. They actually posted the temperatures in the different sections of the seats so that people could choose their seats according to how masochistic they are! And yes, the metal structure was quite literally hot to the touch. Yikes!
I have a very hard time with the heat. I once did a show were I had to wear a fat suit and afterwards, would end up crying and shaking in a bathroom. It reached a point where I had to be carried up to the dressing rooms and set in the shower.
Naturally, I feared a repeat of this unpleasantness in Montpellier. My fears would go unmet for most of the run, but the second to last show would leave me a mess…
The city did not disappoint. Fortunately, we were given a week’s reprieve. The really evil weather only came the second week. Of the hot days that were less hot, the temperature at the top of the seats in the chapiteau ranged from 48 to 55 degrees Celsius. Shows were held at 10pm so the tent could cool down a bit. They actually posted the temperatures in the different sections of the seats so that people could choose their seats according to how masochistic they are! And yes, the metal structure was quite literally hot to the touch. Yikes!
I have a very hard time with the heat. I once did a show were I had to wear a fat suit and afterwards, would end up crying and shaking in a bathroom. It reached a point where I had to be carried up to the dressing rooms and set in the shower.
Naturally, I feared a repeat of this unpleasantness in Montpellier. My fears would go unmet for most of the run, but the second to last show would leave me a mess…
The Home Stretch
Five months ago, I took a plane to France to start a new life as a circus artist in Europe. The creation was long, challenging, and at times, never ending. Suddenly, the premiere was upon us, and ready or not, it was show time.
Then, as suddenly as the tour started, we’re on the last leg of this first portion of the tour. After shows in Salins-les-Bains and La Rochelle, we’re now in Montpellier for two weeks and then that’s it. Two months off. Two months that will find me back in Montreal for a few short days, followed by six weeks working on the boardwalk in Santa Cruz, California, then back to Montreal for a week and a half of real vacation.
In case you were wondering, jet-setting is overrated.
But before I can go home and head to the west coast, I need to survive the hot hot heat that is Montpellier. And I do mean survive…
Then, as suddenly as the tour started, we’re on the last leg of this first portion of the tour. After shows in Salins-les-Bains and La Rochelle, we’re now in Montpellier for two weeks and then that’s it. Two months off. Two months that will find me back in Montreal for a few short days, followed by six weeks working on the boardwalk in Santa Cruz, California, then back to Montreal for a week and a half of real vacation.
In case you were wondering, jet-setting is overrated.
But before I can go home and head to the west coast, I need to survive the hot hot heat that is Montpellier. And I do mean survive…
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Blip
Hello all!
Once again, a huge gap in the blog. My apologies. I spent the last two weeks in Montpellier with virtually no internet and even less motivation to write. Or do anything for that matter. Obscenely hot weather will do that.
The good news is, I'm back in Montreal (yay!), albeit briefly (boo!), and will have a chance to catch you up on the trials and tribulations of performing at 10pm in the hottest, dustiest, most cicada infested city I have ever been to. Not to mention adventures over the big top and the hunt for wildlife I never would have imagined native to France!
And that's not even the half of it!
Once again, a huge gap in the blog. My apologies. I spent the last two weeks in Montpellier with virtually no internet and even less motivation to write. Or do anything for that matter. Obscenely hot weather will do that.
The good news is, I'm back in Montreal (yay!), albeit briefly (boo!), and will have a chance to catch you up on the trials and tribulations of performing at 10pm in the hottest, dustiest, most cicada infested city I have ever been to. Not to mention adventures over the big top and the hunt for wildlife I never would have imagined native to France!
And that's not even the half of it!
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