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