Good Night, Saltimbanco

Today marks the end of a 20 year run for the Cirque du Soleil signature show, Saltimbanco.

I know many people who have performed with that show. Couples who met their, lives that were changed. It's a bittersweet day for many.

Good night, Saltimbanco. Thank you for making us dream.

Cookie Takes the Cake

I've posted about circus cakes and cookies in the past. But the decorated cookie mastery of Mrs Elizabeth Adams of Arty McGoo pretty much blows everything else out of the water. I strongly suggest you take a moment to peruse her site, because each and every cookies is a delicious piece of art.

Inspired by the idea of circus being slightly creepy, these cookies have a 1930's Water For Elephants feel.

From Arty McGoo

TV Times

Hey Europe!

Tonight on ARTE you can watch Cirque Eloize's RAIN! It's on at 21h45 and a great show, so get a bowl of popcorn and settle in for a great night of circus!

Here's a clip!

The Plot

The Sioux City Journal has this to say about Quidam:

"The plot? A young girl leaves her parents for the world of Quidam. There, she encounters plenty of characters that usually appear after a night of alcohol and Ambien."

Nice.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Tree Trimming Time!

And Then It Was Over

Sunday marked the final performance of my show, and the end of a five year contract and adventure. I am at a loss for words and the only things I seem to feel are shock, depression, and denial. I had no idea it would be this hard...

I plan to write more in the days to come, but for at the moment, all I seem to be able to do is sit in daze and try not to cry...

The Curse

So, my circus has a bit of a curse. I’ve thought so for ages, but never bothered to mention it. Which, in retrospect, is pretty odd. But with A’s injury fresh on my mind, I can no longer look the other way.

Working for this company is back breaking. Literally.

I know that bad backs are pretty common. And you’d think that in the circus that’s just something that comes with the territory. And while I do know people with bad backs in the circus, I feel that things like bad wrists, knees, or shoulders are far more common.

And you would think that maybe one or two people might have a bad back. But it seems like here bad backs are just the status quo.

I developed a mysterious back injury just months after I started working here. And not during shows, but during the summer break. Despite many tests and doctors, no one could diagnose anything. It’s not as bad as it was a few years ago, but it hasn't healed.

And now, with just days to go, A is barely able to put on his own pants his back hurts so much. He was fine when we left in November. How did this happen?

He and I are just another couple of names on the long list of those whose backs were broken while passing through this big top.

And the curse goes on...

The Unravelling

It is finally, really, truly and officially the end of the shows. There will be no extra dates squeezed in. It’s a run of three weekends, and then goodnight. I’m not terribly surprised by the tough market for ticket sales. We were here a couple of years ago plus the just completed run in November. Now, with Christmas approaching, everyone is in town. Soleil, 7 Fingers, C!RCA, and a slew of others. Not to mention that the big white tent 20m away from us is having shows on the same dates at pretty much the same time as us... oops.

With this company, it would seem that the traditional way to end a tour is to have everything go to shit. With the previous show, three acts were missing in the final performances, and one of the musicians had completely thrown out his back and had to play while seated in the wings. This show seems to be following suit.

Upon arrival, A announced that he had hurt his back. We hemmed and hawed about whether or not he would cut anything, but A has always been stubborn about these kinds of things. It went from not doing his straps act, to simply cutting two figures from his acro solo.

The next night, however, I got off stage after my own number to find A waiting for me.

“I’m not doing my straps act tonight. Or trampo-wall.”

Being the clever folks that we are, we didn’t bother to come up with a plan should A decide mid-way through a show that he was too injured to continue. This led to much running around backstage trying to figure out to do technical cues without and transitions with bits of the show missing, as well as the horrible task of completely restructuring the trampo-wall act. It’s bad enough figuring all that stuff out during a meeting. It’s way harder when people are running on an off stage, and back and forth trying to execute their backstage cues.

Meanwhile, on stage, A, D, and myself performed a spectacular three body pile up that would have made the Stooges proud. I’m still not entirely sure what happened, but D fell over me, and then rammed into A, at which point he landed in my line of fire, and I hit him. Flailing and laughing, we finally managed to get into position. I’m sure the sound and lighting guys enjoyed the scene from the booth.

A is going for an MRI this week as it looks like it might be something with one of his disks. I just hope that L’s prediction that everything will “part en couilles” doesn’t go beyond the disaster that was Sunday’s show.

A Gripping Tail

Sounds About Right

via Toothpaste For Dinner

Fly Away With Me

Happy Hanukkah

Happy Hanukkah, folks!

Making a Splash

Bounce Goes Swing

Behold, in all its majesty!

Now, you may be asking yourself why on Earth a circus blog would post a photo of a porch swing. I mean, yes, it is a lovely porch swing and all, but really, on a circus blog?

What if I told you that that lovely porch swing used to be this?

 And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you upcycle circus style.

The Flying Dutchman

Who can forget Epke Zonderland's mind boggling gold medal winning high bar routine at the 2012 Olympics? Well, it looks like the Flying Dutchman isn't through knocking our socks off just yet...

A Song

This is the show that will not end.

It just goes on and on, my friend.

Some circus artists created it,

Not knowing what it was.

Now they’ll continue playing it forever just because...

Making Hearts Dream

I'm a collector of images and the other day I hit a veritable gold mine of stunning circus photography. These are the kinds of photos that make you dream of running away and joining the circus.

German photographer Thomas Totz manages to capture the hearts and souls of the circuses he photographs and brings beauty and dignity to a world that is not always met with respect.

I've included some of my favourite photos below.

To see the full collection, go here.

To visit Mr. Totz's website, go here.

Going Up!

Very cool video of Circus Monti's Big Top going up.

Mother of God...

Forget trampo-wall. In fact, forget everything you've ever witnessed in circus. Hell, forget about even being in the circus because nothing you do will ever be as mind-boggling insane as this.

 

The Next Chapter

When I look back at the last five years, I barely recognize myself. I spent the better part of my twenties with this company, and as I prepare to leave them I'm staring down thirty. I've had an extremely difficult journey with them. I've experienced loss, humiliation, and heartache the likes of which I never could have imagined.

But during that time, I also traveled to 22 countries. I fell in love for the first time. I became the first Canadian to compete at the German Wheel World Championships and I obtained my coaching certification from the IRV. I'm also very proud to say that I received more good press than anyone else in the troupe.


Good and bad, it's almost over. I can't stop imagining a giant book about to slam shut. The good news is, a new book is on the way. I've just signed on to a tour in Switzerland that will last the better part of 2013. I can tell you that as someone who does a discipline that can be a pretty hard sell, this comes as a huge sigh of relief.

I can only hope better things lie ahead. Based on feedback from friends who have worked for this company before, I have nothing to worry about. And based on what I've heard about the show concept, it looks like my days of overly intellectual, image heavy, takes-itself-a-bit-too-seriously French contemporary circus are about to come to an end.

And I, for one, couldn't be happier about that.

Look out, Switzerland, here I come!

A View of Circus Island

 Good lord... you can see the hot pink triangle!

And I can see my caravan!

Trapeze Trap

Looks like a good haul...

Kip to Handstand

I would like to say that if I were to try this, I would land on my face. I say "would like to" because while I can definitely kip up to my feet, I'm pretty sure that if I tried to do what this guy is doing, I wouldn't have the rotation to fall on my face, and just land on my butt. Seriously though, is this actually possible? Because, damn!

Dancing with the Stars

I may have been skeptical going in, but I’ve got to say, I had an absolute blast filming Dansent avec les stars. I worked with French pop singer Lorie, and her partner (and fellow Montrealer) Christian.

When it comes to things like this, most people try to have nothing to do with. Seeing as we filmed after that day’s show, I expected to find myself in an empty Chapiteau. But apparently I forgot to factor in the appeal of a star, even if she isn’t the brightest star in the celebrity sky.

I’m not going to lie, I felt pretty self-conscious speaking on camera with the whole troupe watching. I was suddenly extremely aware of how French is not my first language.

We started with me seated on stage and then panned over to Lorie and Christian coming down the bleachers towards me. Lorie had no idea what she was there to do, though I’m sure being at a circus couldn’t have filled her with much confidence. She was told she would be doing German wheel. She had no idea what it was. That’s when I volunteered to give her a demonstration.

The poor thing. I thought she was going to pass out when she saw me come on stage with my wheel. I mean, yeah, I did come in free hand. That would throw anybody off. And then I went into spirals, with more freehand, and a coin spin in full split. At least I didn’t show off with a triple...

As much as the entire thing was about getting interesting images for television, she was actually there for a reason. Apparently she was having trouble with the Viennese waltz. She would get dizzy from the spinning and find herself off balance. Wheel was somehow supposed to help with this.

Now I can see how on paper wheel spinning and waltz spinning might seem like the same thing. But in reality, I wasn’t entirely sure what the heck I was supposed to do with this girl. Especially since I found out only a few minutes before she arrived. I walked her through the same three exercises I would have put any beginner through and went into a great deal of detail about having your weight aligned over your feet, knowing where your body is in space and in relation to everything around you, and the general tips for balance and spatial orientation that would apply to just about anything dancey or acrobatic.

When she first stepped on, I thought we were going to be in trouble. But after a rocky start, she actually did quite well. I had loads of fun helping her and I think she really enjoyed the experience. Then I had both her and her partner try a coin spin, mostly because I knew there was no way they would be able to do it and it would make for some funny footage for the show. Poor Christian. He landed butt facing the camera. You know that’s going to make on to the show.

Unfortunately, I’ll have a show the night it airs. But then, I don’t have a television or internet access here, so it’s not like that changes very much. I just hope I’ll be able to find it online when I get back to Canada. After all, how many people can say they got to teach German wheel to a French pop singer as a consultant on the French version of Dancing with the Stars?

You Know You're in Montreal When...

I've not been feeling terribly well since returning from France so I went to the walk-in clinic today and what were they playing on the waiting room television?

Alegria.

Only in Montreal...

P!nk For the Win

P!nk performed at the American Music Awards last night and all I can say is, daaayum! P!nk sang the song Try while performing an acrobatic pas de deux with partner Colt Prattes. The piece was choreographed and coached by Sebastein Stella.

If she was nervous to perform an emotionally charged acrobatic dance piece while singing, she sure didn't show it. All I can say is huge respect. Huge. She just put most hand-to-hand couples I know to shame (artistically, of course) and quite frankly, I think I might need to up my game as well.

Wonderfully choreographed, beautifully performed, and emotionally raw and powerful, this is an artist that deserves our attention.

Guy's Got Flair

Curiouser and Curiouser

While waiting to hear news of the possible extensions and whether or not I would be compensated for any loses that would result of my returning to France, I received a phone call from the tour director. Never in my wildest dreams could I have guessed what he was about to propose.

I expected him to make one more plea to have me return on my dime but instead he asked if I would be willing to be on the French equivalent of Dancing with the Stars.

I’m sorry, what?

Somehow they managed to strike up some kind of a deal where one of the contestants on the show, some French version of Britney Spears, would need to learn to spin and twirl and where better that at the circus? I would do a little demo on wheel and then give her a “lesson”. There would also be footage of our show and the life around the circus.

A great bit of publicity for the circus, surely. But why the heck are they asking me this in the middle of negotiating all that other stuff? And they’re pushing to do it before I return to Canada, perhaps in hopes of getting one last bit out of me before I leave them for good.

I guess I’ll find out when we film tomorrow.

Unexpected Reactions

When we first arrived in Paris and word got out that I wouldn’t be doing extensions, I expected backlash from my colleagues. Oddly enough, one person thanked me because he felt it meant that there would be no extensions. Everyone else seemed to understand. At least that’s what they said to me.

Then, when the possibility of extensions was revived and I was still putting up a fight, I thought for sure I would get an earful. In the past, I’ve heard the unkind conversations about others who have stood their ground about being paid for their work. Only what ended up happening is that, during the meeting, people started sticking up for me. They started saying how it would be so strange without me. Or that it really would be better to finish all together. That afternoon, another colleague said that I couldn’t be replaced. And right before the show, on the day of the infamous meeting, the guitarist came up to me and said he was so happy I would be staying after all. I told him it wasn’t settled just yet. Then he said that he hoped I would. The show wouldn’t be the same without me, and that without my act, the show wouldn’t be as good. And a friend who saw the show that night said it would take two people to replace me with all I do. I took that to be a huge compliment.

For so long I have heard from my bosses, specifically the tour director and the director, that I can be replaced*, that we’re all replaceable... and suddenly I seem to be a genuinely important part of this show... it’s a pity I didn’t feel this way until so late in the game. But I’m glad it’s happening before I go.

* Many months ago, we were asked our opinion about playing a certain set of dates. The dates we’re playing now, actually. I said I didn’t want to and the tour director told me to just leave. My act took up only a small place in the show, and yeah, there were a couple of other parts, but they would just replace me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel satisfied that those remarks have come back to bite him in the ass.

Standoff

There was no question that it was going to be an emotionally charged day. It was the three year anniversary of the passing of my grandfather, the first grandparent I lost. And here I was, in the same town and surrounded by the same people I was with the day I got the news.

But things are very different now. I like to think I’m a little stronger. And so, when the tour director announced that we would be having a meeting about extending the tour, I knew I had to be tough. For once, it seemed like I actually held a pretty strong hand.

A few days before the meeting, the tour director came up to me asking if there was any way I could stay for the extensions. I told him I had already notified the company that I would not be continuing past the 11^th of November and that I had already booked my flight home. Then, for the first time since I started working here full time, I was actually offered a return flight home.

Now that ticket sales aren’t sucking quite so bad, the tour director desperately wants to extend the run. The company has already lost a tremendous amount of money with this venture and I think doing those extra shows would at least allow them to break even.

I told him it wouldn’t be impossible but it would depend on the dates. I have things I need to settle before I start my new contract in Switzerland. Plus, I’ve already booked a non-refundable train ticket to visit my grandmother in Ontario. And seeing as I need to renew my passport, coming back for more shows would mean getting the 24h rush at an extra cost.

Then I thought of a friend of mine. He worked for a big company and when time came to renew his contract, he wanted a pay raise. They of course played hard ball expecting that his fear of being out of work would mean accepting working for the lower sum of money. When they refused his request, he told them he quit. He did a lot in that show and was one of, if not the most visible artist on stage. He told them that he knew what he was worth and wasn’t going to be taken advantage of. Then he walked out.

That act of courage and self-worth lit a little fire in me. I know the value I have as an artist. I would tell the tour director that yes, I would come back. But not past December 16^th (they really wanted to play into New Year’s if they could), and only if they paid the full cost of the flight and not a set rate by kilometre, as is their policy. It’s a last minute flight around Christmas, I wasn’t about to absorb the cost of a ticket that will be far more than the 800E I would likely get from the kilometre system. Moreover, I want to be reimbursed for the train ticket I would be losing, as at that point they were aware that I would no longer be in their employ so it isn’t my fault that I booked it during a work period. And finally, I would ask that the extra fees of a rushed passport be covered by the circus. Were it not for them, I wouldn’t need to pay that fee. If I have to absorb all those extra costs, it would be like doing at least two shows for free.

I knew going in that the conversation with the tour director wouldn’t be smooth sailing. But seeing as the conversation I had with him when I said I would not be doing extensions was so civil, I guess I wasn’t as well prepared as I should have been. In a nutshell, he didn’t seem keen on my requests. He was so agitated that I didn’t even bring up the passport. And when I mentioned the train ticket he started ranting about not getting involved in people’s personal lives and that he’s lost train tickets and so forth and so on. He added something about the company having been around for 30 years, and they’ve always managed, but maybe they’ll go bankrupt... And then he had the nerve to say that fine, because of 100E (the cost of the train ticket) he would tell everyone that there would be no extensions and that 40 people would be out of work and likely lose their status with the unemployment office.

Now, I may have been clutching my cup of tea for dear life, but I was not about to let him pressure me like that and put that kind of burden on my shoulders. And I told him as much. For crying out loud, it works both ways. You not paying the 100E is also putting 40 people out of work, you know.

Shortly after, we had the meeting with the troupe. I was put on the spot by a colleague and so I mentioned the tour director’s attack. He flatly denied it and asked when he said it. Oh, I don’t know... a half hour ago? So what, now I’m a liar and the cause of this circus’ ruin? Delightful.

I admit, maybe I didn’t say it kindly. But I was pissed.

Then, oddly, things started to swing in my favour. The tour director suddenly became quite gracious saying how I’ve fulfilled every contract, that I’ve done so admirably, and that it’s in my rights to leave. And when he was pressed for a set end date and not the continuing possibility of extensions, the end date given was the 16^th of December. One of the other founding members kept pressing for a week longer, but as the tour director noted, I wasn’t available past the 16^th...

Afterward I called the technical director. He’s the most down to earth and friendly of the lot. You actually feel like you’re having a conversation with a human being with him, not some business man trying to get the better of you. I told him about my conversation with the tour director, and the three expenses I want covered in order to return. He thought them all perfectly reasonable. He also added that I shouldn’t feel guilty or badly, and that I need to stick to my guns. Moreover, he said that when he, the tour director, and the administrative director sat down to crunch the number about the possible extensions, he would be my ambassador and fight for what I asked for. He said at that point, it wasn’t a couple of hundred euro one way or the other that was going to make the difference.

And quite frankly, at this rate, I don’t see how they have a choice. It will cost far more to bring in a foreign artist to do my act (there are very few women doing German wheel that I know of), plus ship their wheel as mine would undoubtedly be too small. Plus there would have to be paid rehearsals. And by the time that person gets here, I’ll be gone and there will be no one to teach her the part. I gave them a month’s notice. It’s not my fault they didn’t prepare.

Based on my calculations, the cost of covering the flight, train ticket, and passport is equal to what I will earn if I come back to do the extended set of shows. So the question for the company is, am I worth my salary?

The Art of Circus Island

Oddly enough, I’ve rather enjoyed my month long exile on Circus Island. What with all the power outages and dinosaur installations, hardly a dull moment was to be had! The place certainly has potential. But that doesn’t change the fact that it is utterly ridiculous.

Ah, Circus Island. At first glance, it looks a lovely place. Sprawling gardens and hidden lawns wend their way across the island. True, the entire space is still in development and just behind the sprawling gardens are fenced off areas of mud and garbage waiting to be transformed. All in good time, I’m sure. All in good time.

Not bad.

I’m still not entirely sure what the goal is for the island. There are numerous large sandboxes. There are tiny little electric Renaults that you can zip around the perimeter of the island in. And of course the startling number of circus tents. But the thing that really makes me raise an eyebrow is the art.

I’ve already mentioned the dinosaurs. They’re on the far end of the island, away from the parks and circuses. The dinosaurs have since been joined by a pile of bricks, three concrete orbs, and a large metal spider web. A little ways off, there is a spotlit dead tree on a small hill. This scene is accompanied a disk of Latin music that is played on repeat all day long. Security guards are present 24/7, presumably to prevent anyone from turning off that infernal racket.

This is the least curious  artwork on the island.

First, we have the severed fingers.

 

Then we have a poor little birdie mourning the death of his little birdie friends.

 

From there we move on to this guy. 

 Hey there!

There’s only the one, and it’s in the middle of a field, and for some reason it is surrounded by stones painted as fruit.

 And, inexplicably, one painted as steak.

 

These rocks disguised as fruit litter the island. There are dozens of them. I only managed to find one other stone painted as meat.

 Wait, that one doesn't look right...

 

And if all of that is too mainstream for you, perhaps you would enjoy the blinding glory that is that giant, fluorescent pink scalene triangle?

Seriously though, why? Why would you do this?

 

The one piece of artwork that made any sense to me is actually hidden away in some lost little corner between some very large bushes. It is the only thing on the island that fits in with the theme of circus. It is a bronze statue that looks like a contortionist who just fell on her face. But still, a contortionist!

With construction workers wandering about daily, who knows what other exciting additions lay in store? I, for one, hope they don't come with music.

The First Lesson

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween, everyone! To celebrate, here's Vermillion Lies' Circus Apocalypse. Enjoy!

A Question of Equipment

There is a tiny little circus tent just past the Nanterre Prefecture RER stop. There they offer classes and free training for professionals. I had been there once before maybe a year ago, and was invited back for some training by a friend of mine. After the Trampoleze fiasco, I thought this would be a welcomed change.

Noctambule has quite a number of trapezes hung up, all at varying heights and all uncomfortably close to one another. Like the small school on Circus Island, they too are padded with bits of velour that are too short, and rarely of equal length. The ropes are synthetic because of the humidity, and as a result tend to be more painful than necessary. And these points do not bounce. In fact, they do not give in the slightest. The Trampoleze may have bucked me off like a mechanical bull, but at Noctambule, the trapezes seem to smack you around just for daring to get up on them.

I wear leather gaiters for protection and even still, felt the bruises forming after running a trick only three times! The experience on the Trampoleze left me feeling a little scared and the equipment at Noctambule did nothing to soothe my nerves.

Which begs the question: Is it worth training on sub-par equipment?

On the one hand, if you can execute your skills in such conditions, when you have access to your own professional level equipment, you should be able to knock your skills out of the park.

On the other hand, isn’t it counter productive to train on equipment that leaves you feeling scared to do your skills? I want to practice them so I don’t lose them, but I don’t want to go back to Montreal and start at square one because I’ve developed all kinds of mental blocks because I was training in an environment that left me feeling unsafe all the time.

When I look at the people at Noctambule, they all seem to be just fine training there. They all seem to be doing good skills, though maybe not the same skills that I do. Am I being a snob? A chicken? Is it wrong to want to train on good equipment? Or do I need to just get over myself?

Limping Toward the Finish Line

You know that it has to end at some point, but even still, it comes as a surprise. I auditioned for this company back in 2007, came out for a number of research and creation periods throughout 2008, and as of 2009, began working here full time. In some ways, it feels like it has been forever. For the last year especially, though truthfully longer, I have felt that I need to move on to something else. And now, when suddenly faced with the end, I am overcome with emotion and don’t know how ready I am to leave after all. I suppose that’s normal though. This has been a pretty big chapter of my life as far as career and personal life goes. At any rate, with the end in plain sight, things should be getting wrapped up for a tidy, tear streaked goodbye.

This, of course, is not happening.

I mentioned that the dates had been pushed back by three weeks. I may have even mentioned that the reason for this is that the tent was at 6% capacity as far as ticket sales were concerned. The hope was that by pushing the dates back, more tickets would be sold. And they have been. One week before we’re set to open, we are now, on average, at 20% capacity...

I shouldn’t have to tell you that that’s dreadful. This is a big company. We are a big show. We should be performing to a full house every night. Or at least close to it. This is a company that feels that 500 people is a small crowd and needs to remind us to do a good job anyway, even though the audience is small. I’m not sure 200 tickets will even cover all of our salaries and operational costs.

And even with those uninspiring figures in hand, the company is still optimistic about extending the dates in Paris! The rumours have been confirmed and the idea would be to take the first week off and then do shows the following weekend, and then the weekends after that until Christmas.

Sigh...

This isn’t right. Not only is it not right, it’s ridiculous. We deserve a proper end to this tour. An exact date. This being in limbo has gone on long enough. More than half the troupe is being let go after this. And we all need to know when we can start working somewhere else. People have lives that include other things than the whims of this circus and need to be able to figure out what the hell they’re doing with their lives instead of being on call for two more months. And just the weekends? No one is from Paris. I’m from over 5000km away! Are people expected to twiddle their thumbs in Paris for weeks at a time while they wait to do three shows? Are they expected to keep making the drive back and forth to their homes every week at their own expense? What about those who come from the other side of the country? M and L have to come from super far away and have to hire a nanny for their kids during the shows. Considering what it will cost each of them to get home and back, and then the salary of the nanny, they’re probably going to lose money, not make any money.

And most importantly, this show and the people in it deserve a dignified end. That last hurrah for a full house, not a whimper in front of a couple of hundred people. You need to know when the last show is. You need to. You have to prepare yourself mentally and emotionally for that last time on stage doing that act with those people in that tent. At least, I know I do. This extension garbage, finding out a week in advance every time... it’s bullshit. I know the company is in financial difficulties, but at this point, it’s not a couple of extra shows that are going to make the difference.

I, for one, am very curious to see how the first staff meeting is going to go. My guess is that the musicians, who are staying on for the next show, will keep their mouths shut, though they will bitch heartily in private. I believe that the clowns are terrified of being out of work, so I’m guessing they won’t say much. As for the acrobats... well... I’ve already said that I’m not sticking around past the 11^th. M tends to speak his mind, so we’ll see. A talks a good game, but doesn’t always speak up at meetings. But from those I’ve spoken with, it sounds like people are reaching their breaking points.

For now, we’ll just keep hobbling along...

Trampoleze

Seeing as I was informed of the change of dates two days before my flight and wasn’t entirely sure where I would be staying for the next month, I decided not to bring my trapeze with me to France. This was probably a good decision since it’s terribly heavy and I need all the weight allowance I can get in order to move all my stuff back to Canada.

However, I really wasn’t keen on no longer being able to train trapeze, especially after the amount of work I put into training over the summer. But there are places to train in Paris, and certainly some of them must have a trapeze I could use?

As it turns out, there’s a small recreational facility on Circus Island! Perfect, right? I mean, sure, their trapezes don’t have weights on them, but that’ll be fine. And the padding is made of velour for some reason, and is much too low, but I can work with that. And the tape on the bar looks as though it’s been mauled by rabid puppies, but hey, it’s still a trapeze!

If it were only that, I think I would have been fine. But this trapeze seems to be having some kind of identity crisis and thinks it’s a trampoline.

I have never in my life been on a bouncier point. Before I started doing aerials, I’ve always thought that aerialists were just a bunch of whiners when they would go on, and on, about how the point was bouncy and made their lives difficult. Side note, I probably sound that way to them when I have a shitty floor for wheel. But anyway, whiners. And when I started doing trapeze, I definitely came across some bouncy points, but honestly, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

But that was before the Trampoleze.

I needed a rope in order to reach the bar. Only when I put my weight on the rope, the bar came down so low that I was standing comfortably on the mat, bar in hand. Stand to ankles seemed to go well enough, though it was more of a butt, rebound to ankles. Half turn to ankles from front support was out of the question. I tried to do a small cast for the tempo and the trapeze ate so much of the movement that I didn’t even come off the bar. Then I made the extremely foolish decision to try a release move. You know the one where you have the ropes in your hands but are hanging from your knees, then drop down, do a half turn with your torso so that your knees come off the bar and then catch hands? I got about as far as “turn with your torso” before the trapeze rocket launched itself toward the cupola and left me to crash and burn into the mat.

Bravely (stupidly?), I tried it again. That attempt, and the one following it, was no better.

At that point I about gave up, did some foot hangs, and called it a day.

And yet in some ways, that point was better than the ones at the next place I would train...

Blargh!

Just when you think things can't get any worse on Circus Island, or at the very least, that things have calmed down, someone kicks in your window and tries to steal your stuff.

If that seems like a poorly constructed metaphor, it's because it's actually a sad description of reality.

The good news, for me anyway, is that it wasn't my window, but D's. The better news is that nothing was actually stolen. The frightening news is nothing was stolen because she walked in on the guy trying to do the thieving.

This is the second bit of burglary since I've been here. I had some friends come to visit and they had pretty much all of their possessions stolen out of their car (mac book pro, ipad, iphone, lots of cash, passports, driver's licenses...). They had been on the island for less than an hour.

We haven't even started shows yet. Not only have we not even started shows yet, the rest of the troupe will not be arriving for another few days. Some technicians will begin to arrive tonight. I'm not even going to bother to ask what else could possibly happen because I'm pretty sure the Universe would take it as a personal challenge.

The Image in My Mind

I came across this picture the other day, and this is exactly how I picture the present state of my circus in my mind. All that's missing is the acrobat who refuses to believe that it's over, a trapeze dragging in the dirt behind them as the wander the abandoned circus grounds...

Seriously, people need to get here soon.

A Wee Problem

Have you ever been in your caravan, surfing the internet, when suddenly a French construction worker stands right next to your open window and starts peeing?

No?

Lucky...

How It's Done

Bad, Bad, Bad...

Typically, when night falls on Circus Island, I tend to retire to the warmth and safety of my caravan. But on this particular night, I thought it might be a good idea to swing by the office caravan and hit up the internet.

There was a knock at the door.

There shouldn’t have been a knock at the door.

And yet for some reason I thought it might be one of my colleagues who lives in Paris. She tends to drop in from time to time. Apparently I decided to ignore the fact that she would have texted me to tell me she was coming, and why on Earth would she be coming to an empty circus island at that hour?

I opened the door to find a man.

I will spare you my first horrified reaction as it involves telling an entirely different story. At any rate, what actually happened may have been worse.

This man and his wife had come to see the show!

Seeing as I’m the only one here and there’s absolutely nothing in the tent, that was going to prove to be difficult. I was beyond mortified. Normally, ticket holders had been notified of the change of dates, and tickets had been reimbursed or exchanged. Moreover, that very afternoon I had received an e-mail from the office asking if there were any signs on the island notifying the public of the change of dates (answer: no).

To make matters worse, the island is only accessible to the public from 8am to 8pm, and by this time, the island was closed. I don’t have a key to any of the gates. And while my friends who have come by after closing just jump the fence, I was pretty sure that such a suggestion would not go over terribly well with this elderly couple.

Shit.

A few frantic phone calls and deeply embarrassed conversations later, I was able to find someone on the grounds that could help. Of course, he didn’t have a key either. Such is the wonder of Circus Island.

By this time, the couple was understandably irritated. Fortunately, this led to the clarification of some key facts.

First off, they had purchased their ticket on Monday. Monday! The dates were changed weeks ago! If the FNAC is selling tickets to shows that don’t exist, that is a very big problem. Secondly, upon closer inspection of the ticket itself, it was discovered that they had purchased tickets for the 26^th of October.

I think I actually felt the embarrassment slide off of me and latch on to the two of them.

I was in the clear!

Of course, they were still trapped on the island.

The good news is a key was soon located. The bad news is, when the couple was let out, there were more people found at the gate hoping to get in and see the show. The only silver lining there is that they were hoping to get tickets at the door. But the entire debacle highlights some serious public relations issues.

I, for one, removed myself from the situation entirely and went to shower. Of course the water heater had gone out and I could not for the life of me get it to light again.

Frickin’ Circus Island...

Circus Island

The wait for shows to start continues here on Circus Island. If you're thinking I call it Circus Island because I am stranded here alone like a castaway, you would be wrong. Well, you would be right, but only metaphorically. I call this Circus Island because it is quite literally and island covered in circuses. Not my most inspired naming, I know, but it gets the job done.

You may recall the Tent City photo I posted a while back. That photo was taken on this island.

Now here's the fun part. The island is located way the hell out of Paris, but quite close to where the Eiffel Tower is. If you take the tram here, you can see it in the distance for most of the journey. At night, you see it's beacon circle quite clearly.

So I figured that if you can see it from the tram, and you can see its beacon from the circus grounds, then the view from on top of the tent must be simply stellar.

When I climbed up onto the tent, this is what I saw:

Oh, come on! If it weren't for that one building... way to drop the ball, Paris. Way to drop the ball...

There is one spot of the tent that does offer a better view, but it's also a rather precarious place to sit. I did manage to get a picture, though.

However disappointing the view of the Eiffel tower might be, the view of Circus Island from the top of the tent more than makes up for it.

Zzt!

It was uncharacteristically cold when I woke up that morning. Right away, I knew something was wrong. But it wasn’t one of those things where you think “uh oh...” No. Not here on Circus Island. It was definitely more of a “not again...”

The power had gone out. This happens somewhat often. There is a lot of construction being done and sometimes they need to shut the power off. Usually it’s off for about an hour. So I trudged off to the kitchen to make tea on one of the gas burners and waited.

And waited.

And waited...

I should probably mention that it was Thanksgiving Day and I had some serious cooking to do. I had squash and chestnuts to roast, cookies and garlic knots to bake, and of course, the turkey. It would have been fine if the gas oven was working, but naturally it wasn’t. It was electric or nothing. So... nothing.

When I called the site director to find out what was going on, I was told that that morning, the cables that supply electricity to the island had been backed over by a truck and were sliced in two.

I wish I could say that surprised me.

Seriously, Circus Island. Get it together.

I was told the power would be back on by the end of the morning. It came back on at quarter to five, and then promptly went back out again. By five it was on for good and Thanksgiving was saved!

It’s always an adventure on Circus Island...

You Spin Me Right Round, Baby

New Neighbours

So I’m in the kitchen, minding my own business, making some soup, when look out the window and see two dinosaurs staring back at me.

Specifically, a stegosaurus and a velociraptor.

This place gets weirder every day.

Belly of the Beast

No matter how frustrating things have gotten over the past few years, there's no denying that the tent going up is a beautiful thing...

Photo by Dominique Secher

Montreal Circus and the Huffington Post

Every so often I come across an article about my circus stomping grounds and alma mater. Most of the time, those articles kind of make me cringe. Clearly, the writers are trying very hard, but somehow I always feel like they got it completely wrong, and always end up feeling vaguely insulted.

This is no such article.

Montreal's Circus Culture Hides In Plain Sight is a fun read. What I like most about it is that the writer is appropriately awed by the experience of entering the little nest of circus that is the area around the Tohu, and has a really great sense of humour about what they've witnessed.

And as a graduate myself, I'd say the comparison to the "mutant prep school from the X-Men" is pretty spot on. After all, we always said it was super hero school.

Abandoning Ship

There’s something I’ve been putting off for a while now, and it’s something kind of important. Especially as it’s one of those things that has consequences for a whole lot of other people. As it stands, there are shows up until the 11^th of November. But there is still a possibility of extensions, and if the circus has its way, right through Christmas. I’m pretty sure my last few posts have essentially been about how I’m ready to move on, so you can imagine how being trapped in circus limbo has been the icing on the frustration cake.

So I’ve decided that I will not be doing any of the extensions. There’s just the small matter of telling that to my employers…

I’ve worked here a long time and the thought of making that phone call produced all kinds of awesome scenarios in my head. The tour director, the man I would need to call, is pretty famous for long, winding speeches that are extremely repetitive and somehow don’t manage to say anything. I was sure I was going to get one hell of a speech. Then I could just see the director calling, and I really don’t want to have to speak with him. And I’m sure some humiliating mass e-mail would be sent out to the troupe. And then the fallout. The blame. Jumping ship in the middle of a crisis, becoming the scapegoat for the show’s failure in Paris, and dirty looks in general. After all, we’re almost done. There are only… um… some shows left, as the actual number will never be revealed. Why don’t you just stay to the end? So selfish…

I gave myself the deadline of letting them know one month before the last confirmed date. That’s today! But yesterday, on my way back from the grocery store, I could have sworn I saw the tour director on site and my stomach fell right out of me. Hm. Last time I checked, such a visceral reaction is not a good thing.

At that point, I just couldn’t wait any longer. After a pep talk from one of my colleagues who feels just about the same as I do, I called. And the ensuing conversation surprised me.

The tour director sounded tired. Disheartened and tired. I could hear that some of his old self was trying to come through, that the 11^th wasn’t the last date at all! But when I asked about the extensions he couldn’t provide any information. Finally he admitted that nothing is guaranteed. But could I at least stay until the 30^th of November because they want to have a gala for the press so that we get a good review in Telerama and therefore people will come during December because apparently that’s when people come see shows!

If people see shows in December, why are we here in October? But that’s beside the point. I told him that I was only told of the change in dates two days before my flight left. I’m here a month in advance doing nothing. I can’t stick around another three weeks for more nothing in the event that there might be a show or two. And I’ve heard from other sources that it looks like if we do extensions, it will just be weekends. And not even the first one, but the one after that. So even if there are extensions it means waiting two weeks to do two or three shows, and then waiting another week for the same thing?

No. No, no, no.

It’s not just the fact that this set of dates has meant a colossal waste of my time that I’m so set on leaving. It’s not even all the baggage and delightfully sordid history that I’m dragging behind me. The truth is, I would stay to the end if circumstances were different. They may not deserve it, but I have a very strong sense of loyalty. And so far, only five people have been in every show, and I’m one of them. My ego wants to keep it that way. I want to be able to say I made it to the end. Even if it kills me.

The thing is I have another job coming up. It was up in the air for a moment, but now everything is back on track, and I have some serious shit to do if I want this to happen. Apparently it’s quite a pain to get a visa for the country in question and I can’t even begin to apply for it until I get a new passport as mine won’t be valid for the duration of this new tour. I can’t let a ten month contract slip between my fingers because of the possibility of a few more shows. And in a shocking twist I never could have expected, the tour director agreed. He told me he can’t block me when things are so uncertain. It would be different if they knew that they had another full two months of shows like the first time we performed in Paris, but that is far from the case. Disheartened and tired…

So here I sit here at the ghost circus, feeling terribly guilty. I’ve been told I have no reason to be. If the situation was reversed, the company would totally put itself first and leave me out in the cold. Heck, they’ve already done it to people in this troupe! But five years is a long time, and as much as I’m ready for this chapter to end, it’s starting to look like I’m not ready at all.

Ghosts

I thought today marked my third week in France. But after a quick calendar check, I realized I’ve only been here for two. Wow, this is going slowly.

I know that for most this would be an amazing thing to have happen. The dates of the show have been pushed back? I get an extra month in France to just hang out in Paris? AWESOME. For most, that would be the case. But not for me. I’m tired of this country and the attitude of many of the people here. I’m tired of the rudeness and feeling crushed by the sheer number of people. I’m tired of living out of a suitcase for no good reason, and most of all, I’m tired of twiddling my thumbs waiting to do the work I’ve been hired to do.

I’m done. I’ve been done for a while, but now, being on site at an essentially abandoned circus makes me see just how done I am. Our tent is set up next to a magnificent white tent. To look at the two, ours is a filthy beast in comparison. There are caravans with missing tires (I’m told they’re being changed), the kitchen is infested with mites and is full of leaks, causing food to rot. Last night, the microwave exploded. This place is just falling apart.

I’ve reached a point where the littlest things set me off, things that really shouldn’t bother me that much. I get unreasonably angry when I think back to the creation of this show, or how things have progressed and are run. Exchanges with certain people have left me hurt, some deeply so, and those wounds seem to be opening up again.

I’m not looking forward to the arrival of the troupe, even if it means that things will finally advance and bring this thing to a close. Because even though I need this chapter to end, I’m terrified of it ending. I’m afraid of what lies ahead as the contract I’m negotiating has hit a snag and I’ve not heard back from them in three days. Even though I know there are few people here that I will truly miss, it hurts me to think that in all likelihood, no one will miss me. And when I think of the one person I will miss more than anything, the person who has changed me and helped me grow and is someone I love very, very dearly, I’m reduced to a blubbering heap in the corner. Because of a delightfully stupid set of circumstances, it is more than likely that I will never see or hear from him again.

The idea of saying goodbye forever haunts me, and I feel like I see ghosts of him and of times shared around every corner. I try to look at that as a gift. That even though, for the most part, this contract has been very challenging for me, I have one wonderful thing that makes saying goodbye so hard. But the truth is it breaks my heart to think that very soon I will have to turn my back on that part of my life, and what has been the best and most difficult part of my journey with this circus.

The drama, heartache, inadequacy, ill-ease, loneliness, jealousy, bitterness, despair… all the trials of the last five years are coming out of the woodwork for one last hurrah. And I don’t know how to make it stop.

So True

As an acrobat working in France, and a native of Montreal, I've got to say this made me laugh pretty dang hard.

Tent City

 
Population: me

The Passing of Luke Wilson

Once again, the juggling world finds itself in mourning. Diagnosed with cancer of the esophagus at the start of the summer, Luke Wilson lost his battle with cancer on October 3rd.

I'm no juggler, and I know very little of the juggling community. But from what I've read of Mr. Wilson, it sounds like the world of circus has lost a truly great and inspirational artist and teacher.

For a proper memorial tribute, I invite you to read this post by someone who knew him, and knew him well.

My respects to the Wilson family, and to those who knew and loved him.

He Flies Through the Air...

Elvin Bale via May All Your Days Be Circus Days