Kicking Sawdust: Nevers Ever Again

The last few days have found my circus settled in a small town in the middle of France by the name of Nevers. I, for one, cannot wait to leave.

Don't get me wrong, the town is lovely. I get to walk by the Loire river on the way to the theatre every day. The hotel we're staying at has huge beds with big comfy comforters...

So what's the problem?

The theatre itself.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Upon entering the theatre, I felt like I was visiting a penitentiary, or perhaps descending into the basement to meet Hannibal Lector. It's dark, cold and decaying. For reasons I truly cannot understand, there are no toilet seats...

But what makes this theatre truly unbearable is the floor.

Remember that time I was in La Rochelle and bitched about the floor? I take it all back. I mean, everything I had to say about the floor and the importance thereof remains true, but compared to the floor here in Nevers, the floor in La Rochelle is suddenly looking a lot more attractive.

How bad is it? Before I even finished putting together my wheel I had every single stage technician warn me about the floor. And while I can't see just how bad it is due to the dance mat that covers the stage, I certainly can feel it. And the theatre staff isn't terribly helpful on the matter either. All they can offer is "Yeah, it's pretty bad. And the area where you perform is the worst." And while theirs is the kind of floor that should be changed every 10 years, it is still the original from 1973.

The night of the run through was a disaster. If I didn't mess up a figure due to the wheel hitting some random bump or pot hole, I would have to stop and step out of the wheel to readjust its angle so as not to hit someone or something because the bumps and pot holes changed the axis of the line. I was, and still am, scared to do anything on this floor. I have no control and even with marks indicating where I should start, if I'm off by even a few millimeters, well, then its anyone's guess as to how it will go.

The first thing the director said when the dress run was finished was "So what time are you working on wheel tomorrow?" As if I didn't already know how badly it had gone...

So I spent three hours changing the act, substituting technique, rearranging sequences and hoping for the best. It wasn't as simple as just putting in easier tricks. One of the moves I messed up the night of the dress run was one of the easiest I do. But the wheel shifted, threw me to the side, killed the momentum and left me out to dry...

The first days in Nevers made me hate wheel. And even with the changes I dread doing my act. Having changed so much of the number is stressful and sometimes I get completely disoriented on stage. Suddenly realizing you started going the wrong way is hard to cover up when you're manipulating a 100lb steel wheel...

But no matter how bruised or discouraged, the show must go on. Thank the stars above that the run in Nevers is only four shows.

And just to prove I'm not exaggerating...