Fashion, Faut Pas

When you're on a tour in the circus, a rhythm sets in and things can sometimes get to be a little monotonous. But every so often, an exciting side gig or special event comes along and shakes things up a bit. I was lucky enough to be chosen for just such a special event when I was asked if I wouldn't mind being part of a photo shoot for one of Switzerland's most widely circulated magazines!

At first, I was really excited. I was the only one in the troupe who would be featured in the shoot, and they were even flying in a model from New York for one day only, just for one shoot at our little circus! I would be in my wheel in full costume and make-up and I was told that as a main feature in the magazine, the photo would take up at least a quarter of the page, maybe more.

But my excitement quickly turned into some serious feelings of insecurity.

The model was stunning. She was exactly what you would imagine if someone told you to picture a fashion model in your head. Tall, slender, blonde, cheekbones to die for... and when the camera started clicking, she easily maneuvered from one sultry pose to the next with barely a second in between positions.

Me? Well, at first they wanted me upside down. But then they decided I was "so cute" that I could stand upright behind the model. Yipee... where she is tall, I am quite short. Where she is slender, I am muscular, almost boxy by comparison. I swear, in the photos I saw afterward, I looked like a squat little dwarf...

Moreover, no one told me what to do or where I should look. So sometimes I looked at the model, sometimes the camera. I had a very limited range of movement because I was standing in the wheel and any shift in weight would have caused it to roll out of the position desired for the shot. I had no idea why I was even there.

In the photos I saw afterward, I mostly look like I hate the model and maybe want to murder her. In the ones that I thought I looked good, the model was typically shifting from one pose to another. In the ones where she looked good, I looked like I was going to do her bodily harm.

When I pointed this out to the photographer, he insisted I just looked proud. I'm not so sure about that. Fortunately, he said he could just take her from one photo and me from another to make one super photo. I really hope he does.

The entire thing left me feeling terribly self-conscious and unattractive. I know that people have different standards of beauty, and many people at the circus reassured me that they like the way I look way more than the model looked, but my self-worth seemed to have decreased considerably from when I got up in the morning.

One thing I really like about circus is that very often it shows women of many different body types. They range from the petite and fit hand-to-hand flyer, the strong and slender aerialist, the muscular firecracker acrobat, and everything in between. Circus showcases every kind of woman, for the most part*, healthy and strong, each and every one of them beautiful.

I know this to be true. But when all was said and done, I certainly didn't feel that way. And the blow was that much harder as it came at me from inside my own home. The entire thing shook me in ways that I can't express. They were made all the more confusing by events that would occur the following evening...



* Like many fields (or just plain life) where the body is subject public scrutiny, eating disorders lurk. Luckily, I haven't encountered it much in my career. But that is not a subject I wish to address at this time.

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.

It's Official

I am officially an aerialist. While this event is probably what sealed the deal, for me, the moment I truly became an aerialist was the night of my first performance in front of a paying audience.

I should mention that I was a wreck. I was so incredibly nervous it's not even funny. I was literally in tears backstage before I had to go on. I just wanted to get through my act without looking like an idiot. There were one or two moves that I was a little worried about messing up and really, as long as I managed to get through them successfully, I would be happy.

Did I mention that there were casting agents from Cirque du Soleil, as well folks from Cirque Eloize and les 7 doigts de la main? Not to mention a bunch of folks from my alma mater who told me I couldn't be an aerialist. So yeah, nervous.

And then something marvelous happened...

I went on stage, got on my trapeze, and felt amazing. I was shocked when people started clapping after my first technical sequence. I mean, I've been on tour for the last four years. I know that the audience claps. But I'm used to it happening with German wheel. I guess I thought trapeze would be different somehow.

Every trick worked, and artistically, I felt super connected to what I was doing. But best of all, I loved it up there.

I don't know that I can really articulate that feeling. Not how good it felt to be up there, but the fact that it felt good to be up there. Ever since starting trapeze, I've always felt that I would still rather work with wheel. I couldn't imagine not working with my wheel and doing trapeze somewhere instead. It just seemed impossible. I just love doing German wheel so much! And yet here I was, on a trapeze in front of an audience and just having the most wonderful time.

I'm still not too sure what to make of it.

I also did a wheel act in that show and I'm sorry to say that it was a bit of a gong show. I'm not used to doing two high level acts in one show. Usually I do my main act, and a bunch of other stuff. This was two main acts and a bunch of other stuff. Whew! And I'm not going to lie, my mind was on trapeze that night. That was the most important thing for me. I couldn't adapt to the floor where we performed (it is WAY faster than where we rehearsed) and my timing was just all over the damn place. Fortunately, that act was a duo and my partner and I are both super charming and have great presence, so the audience loved us anyway. Seriously, when someone tells you they just wanted to see the two of us make out at the end of our act, you know we did our job.

While I may not have had any of all those casting people come up to me, I did have a lot of people tell me that my act was their favourite, be it wheel or trapeze. And I had a great many Russian artists from Soleil make a point of shaking my hand and telling me that I did a good job. And if anyone knows what the hell they're talking about, it's them. So that meant a lot.

So watch out, world of circus! There's a new aerialist in town!

Photoshoot!

I had the very good fortune of spending the past weekend in Nantes collaborating with a local photographer. We first met (though barely) when my circus performed there in the fall. After a potentially awkward situation ("So I see you've used my photos on your web page...) we kept in touch and decided to see what we could do in a less traditional setting. And so, fingers crossed, I packed my bags and headed to Nantes.

While I wasn't entirely sure what to expect, I had good reason to hope for the best. The photographer sent a wonderful outline of the project with pictures of potential locations. Many of them were pretty gritty and industrial.

In other words, right up my alley.

The photographer even found a stylist! She made me a little tulle bustle thing, which was actually quite a fun accessory. She even let me keep it!

So off we went... we had scouted some locations the evening before and found some fun improvised locations along the way. Without really trying, various colour themes seemed to reoccur, and colour ended up playing a key role. From what I've seen of the photographer's work, he does a lot of black and white. We looked at a couple of the shots we took in black and white and the aesthetic value of the photo decreased dramatically.

What can I say? I'm a colourful gal.

Except for the part where I'm two shades darker than chalk...

Anyhoo!

We took about 450 photos and together chose 144 that were worth touching up. Of those, I've made an even smaller selection that will later be used for promotional purposes.

Aside from the wonderful photos, I have many (many) souvenir scrapes and bruises! There were a few sketchy moments (so much pigeon poop...), as well as the one or two times where I probably could have seriously hurt myself. But in the end, I didn't get hurt, so I guess the moments can be considered as inspired in lieu of stupid!

I have also discovered that putting a camera in front of me suddenly makes me believe I'm flexible. All this does is provide photographic proof that I'm not, as well as giving me a sore back.

With 144 photos to choose from, it's hard to pick just one to highlight the adventure. As such, here's a small taste of the (untouched) photos!

The Plot Thickens...

As I've mentioned, I'm on the job hunt. So it may surprise you to learn that I've ignored a couple of e-mails from a French television program. It's one of those talent shows and they wanted me to apply. I suspect they just contacted a bunch of circus artists, but still, I made it onto the list.

Then yesterday I received a bait lined e-mail via Facebook.

"Hello, my name is So-and-so and I'm a journalist for Such-and-such media and would like to get in contact with you. If you have a moment, please call."


A quick Google search proved the media company was legit, and surprise surprise, there was some footage from that very same talent show.

At this point it would have been foolish not to follow-up. The Universe only throws you so many bones before it shrugs its shoulders and moves on.

Long story short, the production team has viewed my material and would like to meet with me in April. Only there's one catch: filming is in June and we have dates booked on the tour.

At this point, I thought all hope was lost. But after a wake-up phone call this morning (far earlier than I would have liked, I might add) I think I may have a way to make it all work out.

The hard part will be to convince my company to play along...

Stay tuned as our story unravels!

La Ville Rose

It's been a week since I arrived in France, and what a week its been! I already have so much to write about, but my schedule has been absolutely packed! I can tell you this though, when I left Montreal I was sad to have had such a short winter, especially since there wasn't much snow while I was there. But being in a city where the grass is already green and dotted with blue and white flowers while the sun shines down on you while little birdies sing, well, that kind of makes it all better.

La Ville Rose, by the by, refers to Toulouse. The city is constructed largely out of reddish/orangey brick, giving the whole city a pinkish hue. We had the day off yesterday and while I did do some exploring, it was rainy and grey, so photos will have to wait for a sunnier day.

All kinds of fun stories are waiting in the wings, including a very exciting career opportunity I've been exploring, so stay tuned!

Opera Garnier

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I would be performing at the Opera Garnier. Well, the moment of performance has come and gone and all I can say is "wow!"

We arrived at the opera at an hour I would normally still be sleeping. This would be our only chance to run through our act on the real stage. This was of the utmost importance as the stage is at 5 degree angle. Not really the best thing for a German wheel. I was a little worried, and the wheel did have a tendency to head towards the abyss that was the orchestra pit, but that just meant stepping out of the wheel for a moment to readjust. No biggie.

We, Les Rouetabagas (don't ask), had our own dressing room, complete with piano. You never know. We were treated to lunch and even got special ID cards that, for some reason, were marked Prime Minister.



Our portion of the show went off brilliantly. Unfortunately, because of the lighting, we couldn't see the audience during the performance, but I swear photographers were clicking away non-stop! And if I may say so, H was absolutely amazing. There was a bit of a technical issue at the end and he was left alone on stage much longer than was planned for. He improvised like a champ and held the room in his hand. I was thoroughly impressed.

The whole thing happened so fast. And for some strange reason, I had the feeling that we weren't done. On the way back to the circus, and after the show that night, I was convinced we still had to do the show. Perhaps it was simply that I've known since September that we were going to perform there and I just couldn't take in that it had finally happened.

I have to admit, as far as gigs go, this is easily the least demanding one I have ever done. I did a couple of minutes of wheel and spent less than eight minutes on stage. I don't even think we rehearsed more than five hours total. The first time I ran through my portion of the act was at the opera the morning of the show.

And yet...

Being able to say that I performed at the Opera Garnier in Paris was truly an honour. For me, its the kind of event that is up there with my Olympic performance in 2006. The crazy and amazing places I end up with the circus never ceases to amaze me .

Not Until the Fat Lady Sings!

So I've been sitting on this bit of info for quite some time. Mostly because there was a period of uncertainty as to whether or not it would happen. And seeing as it's one hell of an event, I didn't want to jinx it. With the event in question only a week away, I think its safe to spill the beans.

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, I'll just let the let a couple of pictures do the talking...


I know, eh? The above would be Paris' National Opera at the Palais Garnier. Myself and two of my colleagues here at the circus will be doing the lead in to a performance by Guillaume Aldebert. He's the main attraction in a Christmas show being put on for the children of the French political elite. The show is the afternoon before our second to last performance in Paris. Should be interesting to see how things turn out...

Ah, quel vie de cirque!

Flashback II: Thank Heavens for Little Girls

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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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...