Since arriving in Paris, there have been a great many articles about the show. Some mostly explain how it is, in fact, a show. They give an idea of the poetry of our circus and go on to mention the dates, venue and the like.
Then there are the actual reviews. Some have been good. Some, not so much. It all started with Mathieu Braunstein's review from Telerama that appeared this summer. This led to a month long upheaval of the show by the director. Doubt followed by change. Insecurity followed by more change. Frustration followed by the friendly request that the director kindly leave us the hell alone for a while.
There are a great many comparisons to the previous show, often considered to be the masterwork of this company. As you can imagine, coming in to a new production and constantly hearing how awesome the last show was is pretty hard to bear. Many reviewers lament the fact this show is not at the same level as the last. And yet, many people in the milieu of circus tell me they prefer this show to the last one. We often get feedback from the public via the company's website. Usually its people telling us that they simply had to tell us how much they loved the show. But there have been a couple of letters that went on to say how the show was a huge deception, that they will never come to see one of our shows again and that they will advise everyone they know to do the same.
Yikes.
Here are some excerpts from some of the reviews we have had since Paris. They are, of course, all in French. While I am fluent in French, there are certain turns of phrase that I have no idea how to adequately translate.
"Mais à vouloir trop parler de la peinture, les numéros s'éloignent du cirque et de la poésie habituellement à l'œuvre au Cirque. Pas d'esbroufe dans les portés, pas de trouvaille sinon musicale dans le jonglage, pas de surprise dans les sauts au trampoline. Seule KD, à la roue allemande, semble braver la gravité avec virtuosité et grâce." - Nathalie Yokel, La Terasse
"Le spectacle n'atteint pas la magie du précédent et sublime [previous show] - la faute à quelques gags et effets trop appuyés -, mais l'ensemble reste séduisant." - Christine Monin, La Vie
"Plus inégaux, les intermèdes humoristiques ont tendance à alourdir un peu la dynamique du spectacle et à mettre de la trivialité là où on espérait de la poésie. Et si certains font vraiment rire, d'autres - moins spirituels voire franchement lourdauds - semblent n'avoir pour seul but que de faire durer le spectacle. Résultat : on s'impatiente en attendant la suite. Une petite erreur de dosage qui altère un peu l'enchantement général." - Marine Polselli, Evene.fr
"Et bien sûr, il y a les numéros. De grande qualité technique et esthétique, ils sont assez ébouriffants. KD semble être née sur sa roue allemande, AN offre ses muscles noueux qui s’étranglent sur des sangles, nous proposant ainsi une très belle transposition de l’artiste maudit englué entre alcool et désespoir et enfin T jongle incroyablement, ses balles deviennent instruments de musique et s’harmonisent parfaitement avec le xylophone." - Stéphanie Richard, Theatreonline.com
"[…] KD virevolte dans sa roue allemande […]" - Myrto Reiss, Le Poulailler
"Populaire et référencé (à condition d'en avoir, des références, sinon, on passe à côté, mais ce n'est pas très grave !), le motif pictural, excitant à première vue, se déballonne comme une fausse bonne idée, un prétexte parfois cousu de fil blanc. S'approprier le geste du peintre, pourquoi pas, se faire encadrer comme un tableau, oui, bien sûr, mais à condition d'en opérer des traductions un brin moins plates que celles, très sympathiques au demeurant, proposées par le Cirque. […] Faire descendre une femme nue en chair et en os d'un tableau reste une jolie idée, mais un peu usée." - Rosita Boisseau , Le Monde
"De la peinture à la barbouille, n'y aurait-il qu'un pas ? Pour le Cirque [...] il semble bien que oui." - Rosita Boisseau, Le Monde
"Au final, le Cirque rappellent avec leur spectacle ce qu'est la peinture : une formidable machine à rêve." - La Tribune
"Numéro impressionnant et plein de grâce aussi de KD qui évolue sur une roue allemande." - Alice Serrano, France Info
"KD, un rien crâne dans son habit rouge, virevolte dans sa roue allemande avec une virtuosité à donner le tournis." - Didier Méreuze, La Croix
"II est des rendez-vous qu'on ne manque pas. Le Cirque en est un." - Didier Méreuze, La Croix
Monday, November 16, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
That Was Pretty Good... For a Sunday
Sundays are hard. On Sunday, your body hurts. On Sunday, your mind checks out early (if it checks in at all). On Sunday, you just don't wanna.
Sundays are particularly difficult because we do a matinee. When I wake up Sunday morning, I can really feel that my body has had less than 24 hours to recuperate. In fact, by the time I get up Sunday morning, it's time to get ready for the show.
What happens is this: I wake up, stumble out of bed, do my hair, go do my pre-set, eat, do my make-up, go warm up and do the show.
Seriously.
Moreover, the audience is full of kids. This can either be great, or a pain in the ass. There are times when small children provide incredible energy with their unhindered laughter. They can also be chatty, obnoxious and distracting.
Ah, Sundays!
Plus, half the troupe heads home right after the show. I mean right after the show. I'm pretty sure that if they could, there are certain people who would skip the curtain call* and just get the hell out of Dodge.
But the most frustrating thing about Sundays is the general attitude among the troupe, myself included. Since its mostly kids and the elderly, not to mention the last show of the week, there's kind of a tendency to let the ball drop a little bit. I'm not terribly proud to admit it, but I have actually shouted "weekend!" after my act. There's a solid hour of show left after my act...
If the show went well, the reaction is "well, that was pretty good. For a Sunday." If it didn't go too well, we all seem to accept it with a shrug of the shoulders and a "it was a Sunday." And while that shouldn't be okay, and wouldn't be any other day of the week, we all kind of accept it.
After all, it's a Sunday.
* Since writing this, I have learned that an artist once did skip the curtain call... Bad form.
Sundays are particularly difficult because we do a matinee. When I wake up Sunday morning, I can really feel that my body has had less than 24 hours to recuperate. In fact, by the time I get up Sunday morning, it's time to get ready for the show.
What happens is this: I wake up, stumble out of bed, do my hair, go do my pre-set, eat, do my make-up, go warm up and do the show.
Seriously.
Moreover, the audience is full of kids. This can either be great, or a pain in the ass. There are times when small children provide incredible energy with their unhindered laughter. They can also be chatty, obnoxious and distracting.
Ah, Sundays!
Plus, half the troupe heads home right after the show. I mean right after the show. I'm pretty sure that if they could, there are certain people who would skip the curtain call* and just get the hell out of Dodge.
But the most frustrating thing about Sundays is the general attitude among the troupe, myself included. Since its mostly kids and the elderly, not to mention the last show of the week, there's kind of a tendency to let the ball drop a little bit. I'm not terribly proud to admit it, but I have actually shouted "weekend!" after my act. There's a solid hour of show left after my act...
If the show went well, the reaction is "well, that was pretty good. For a Sunday." If it didn't go too well, we all seem to accept it with a shrug of the shoulders and a "it was a Sunday." And while that shouldn't be okay, and wouldn't be any other day of the week, we all kind of accept it.
After all, it's a Sunday.
* Since writing this, I have learned that an artist once did skip the curtain call... Bad form.
In the Middle
It has been six weeks since our mighty yellow big top arrived in Paris. In that time we have performed 30 shows to both rave and crushing reviews. We questioned the show, ourselves, and each other.
And we rehearsed...
We rehearsed, and rehearsed, and rehearsed...
We rehearsed to the point of sending the director packing because we just couldn't take it anymore.
There have been outbursts. There have been triumphs. And there most certainly have been losses.
Paris has been one helluva ride.
I'm not sure if its worth it to go back and write about all the things that have happened so far. In a sense, yes, because there were some trying times. But for the most part I've already summed up our first weeks in Paris nicely. There was a great deal of doubt, insecurity, and constant change. So much so that all of us in the troupe became utterly exhausted. Finally, we decided to leave well enough alone. Which is to say, we told the director to piss off. Now the show has begun to live. So there you go.
There are certainly a few points that I personally feel the need to address, but the drama? I know it can be exciting to read about, but I've had my fill and am ready to move on. But don't worry about it too much. I'm sure there will be plenty more to write about soon enough.
That's what happens when your life is a circus.
And we rehearsed...
We rehearsed, and rehearsed, and rehearsed...
We rehearsed to the point of sending the director packing because we just couldn't take it anymore.
There have been outbursts. There have been triumphs. And there most certainly have been losses.
Paris has been one helluva ride.
I'm not sure if its worth it to go back and write about all the things that have happened so far. In a sense, yes, because there were some trying times. But for the most part I've already summed up our first weeks in Paris nicely. There was a great deal of doubt, insecurity, and constant change. So much so that all of us in the troupe became utterly exhausted. Finally, we decided to leave well enough alone. Which is to say, we told the director to piss off. Now the show has begun to live. So there you go.
There are certainly a few points that I personally feel the need to address, but the drama? I know it can be exciting to read about, but I've had my fill and am ready to move on. But don't worry about it too much. I'm sure there will be plenty more to write about soon enough.
That's what happens when your life is a circus.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Mega Entry – The Trials and Tribulations of Dole
Coming back to France was a bit of a shock on the system. The luggage, the airport, the flight… the RER, the TGV, the Jura… none of it seemed real. Wasn’t I just in Montreal? Of all these things, what I was least prepared for was the sudden, excruciating back pain. Well, it was half sudden, really.
Back in Montreal I had started having back pain. Oddly enough, it wasn’t because of anything. As far as I could tell, it was from not doing anything. As soon as I stopped training and really took the whole ‘vacation’ thing to heart, my back started to deteriorate. It began in the car. It would hurt to sit for too long, then when I got out of the car, I couldn’t stand up straight right away.
I saw my osteo a couple of times, and while normally he works miracles, I couldn’t help but think his treatments were making things worse. Fast forward to France and I can’t even stand without being in pain.
Already, I was dreading returning to France. My ego had taken quite a bruising when my wheel died and I came back to Montreal empty handed. Here I was ill prepared to return to work with shows to do in, oh, two days time with a busted up back. Moreover, I couldn’t even get through my number. I never realized just how hard I had made my number, but it’s really hard. My cardio was crap, my legs would give out by the end, and my back was throwing up all over the place.
During my panic filled days and shame filled nights, I had the pleasure of seeing an osteo here in France. According to this guy, I had, among other things, a twisted uterus, turned pelvis, and most likely a damaged disk.
I’m sorry, what was that last one?
This is when the circus goes into panic mode. After petitioning the mayor and throwing around a bit of their weight, the circus managed to get me an appointment for an MRI in the course of a morning’s worth of phone calls.
Fun facts about MRIs in France:
They are extremely inexpensive.
They give you a CD with all the images on it.
As you can imagine, I was somewhat terrified. I went to the hospital with the technical director, whom I love, and I must admit, I cried. What if my disk was damaged in some way? I’m only just starting my career. I know there’s no such thing as a good time to get injured, but now was definitely not a good time.
And of course the director was on my case. Why didn’t I get this checked at home? I mean, other than that it all happened kind of suddenly, it takes six months to get an appointment for an MRI and I wasn’t exactly home for all that long? Its not like I wanted my back to declare war.
At this point I should mention that I not only had an osteo tell me I likely had disk damage, but the doctor as well. Of course the doctor also hypothesised that I may have micro fractures in my vertebra. Needless to say, I expected the worse.
What I got, was this:
I know, eh?
Clean as a whistle, sharp as a thistle, the best in all Westminster!
Except, mostly just the ‘clean as a whistle part’.
No tears, no fractures, no damage. Which is fantastic! Except for the part where my back still really hurt and I had no idea why. I know, I know, I should have been really happy that there was no disk damage (and I was, and I am) but I had what felt like electrical currents shooting down my sacrum. I kind of wanted some answers.
And of course, the MRI being clean, the general prognosis among the troupe is that it’s all in my head.
Great.
Did I mention the director was on my case? In an effort to heal, I didn’t do one of the first run-throughs. After that and a poor showing of my number in general, I also cut my number in half. I’m told that normally, the circus is pretty cool with adapting numbers (or cutting them out completely) when an artist to too sick or injured to perform. However, the timing being what it was, I wasn’t really given that luxury with a blessing.
It would appear that over the summer, the show got less than an outstanding review by Telerama. Telerama, I am told, is the French equivalent to TV Guide and their reviews generally mean something. Mind you, I’m also told that the general public typically agrees that whatever Telerama says, its best to think the opposite.
Anyway, all that to say that there were some serious insecurities floating around. Suddenly, the director is changing scenes, cutting scenes, rearranging scenes and screwing around with the music. By the end of the week in Dole, he had managed to alienate the entire cast. After a two month break and two or three days of rehearsal, we were basically told that what were doing wasn’t good enough. Not enough feeling, not enough life, poor rhythm, the works.
And of course, I got a special place in the “not good enough” category. It would seem that the wheel number is an important moment in the show. It’s the moment where the rhythm really takes off, the space opens, and the show really starts! So I’m told. All that to say that my half-number wasn’t good enough.
I was in pain. I probably shouldn’t even have been doing my number at all, but out of guilt and a “take one for the team” mentality, I did it any way. I worked with the musicians to shorten the music (they did brilliantly by the way). And while the first night was shaky, I feel like we pulled it off in the end.
But the director just kept on me. The first show where I actually felt good before the performance, the show where things were really starting to work in my mini act, he came up to me afterwards and essentially said that it wasn’t enough. They way he said it, it was as though the reason the show wasn’t working was because my act wasn’t working.
Awesome.
Did I mention the director alienated the entire troupe in a matter of days?
Dole sucked. Not the city or the shows, but the atmosphere. They never should have cut the rehearsal days before Dole (and Paris) after a two month break. The director should have some faith in the message he’s trying to share and not tear his artists to pieces. Also, my back should stop hurting.
Dole came and went with a fizzle and some hurt feelings. Hopefully, Paris will be different. But with big changes looming (didn’t mention that did I?) and the eyes of the capital upon us, the fun is undoubtedly just beginning.
Back in Montreal I had started having back pain. Oddly enough, it wasn’t because of anything. As far as I could tell, it was from not doing anything. As soon as I stopped training and really took the whole ‘vacation’ thing to heart, my back started to deteriorate. It began in the car. It would hurt to sit for too long, then when I got out of the car, I couldn’t stand up straight right away.
I saw my osteo a couple of times, and while normally he works miracles, I couldn’t help but think his treatments were making things worse. Fast forward to France and I can’t even stand without being in pain.
Already, I was dreading returning to France. My ego had taken quite a bruising when my wheel died and I came back to Montreal empty handed. Here I was ill prepared to return to work with shows to do in, oh, two days time with a busted up back. Moreover, I couldn’t even get through my number. I never realized just how hard I had made my number, but it’s really hard. My cardio was crap, my legs would give out by the end, and my back was throwing up all over the place.
During my panic filled days and shame filled nights, I had the pleasure of seeing an osteo here in France. According to this guy, I had, among other things, a twisted uterus, turned pelvis, and most likely a damaged disk.
I’m sorry, what was that last one?
This is when the circus goes into panic mode. After petitioning the mayor and throwing around a bit of their weight, the circus managed to get me an appointment for an MRI in the course of a morning’s worth of phone calls.
Fun facts about MRIs in France:
They are extremely inexpensive.
They give you a CD with all the images on it.
As you can imagine, I was somewhat terrified. I went to the hospital with the technical director, whom I love, and I must admit, I cried. What if my disk was damaged in some way? I’m only just starting my career. I know there’s no such thing as a good time to get injured, but now was definitely not a good time.
And of course the director was on my case. Why didn’t I get this checked at home? I mean, other than that it all happened kind of suddenly, it takes six months to get an appointment for an MRI and I wasn’t exactly home for all that long? Its not like I wanted my back to declare war.
At this point I should mention that I not only had an osteo tell me I likely had disk damage, but the doctor as well. Of course the doctor also hypothesised that I may have micro fractures in my vertebra. Needless to say, I expected the worse.
What I got, was this:
I know, eh?
Clean as a whistle, sharp as a thistle, the best in all Westminster!
Except, mostly just the ‘clean as a whistle part’.
No tears, no fractures, no damage. Which is fantastic! Except for the part where my back still really hurt and I had no idea why. I know, I know, I should have been really happy that there was no disk damage (and I was, and I am) but I had what felt like electrical currents shooting down my sacrum. I kind of wanted some answers.
And of course, the MRI being clean, the general prognosis among the troupe is that it’s all in my head.
Great.
Did I mention the director was on my case? In an effort to heal, I didn’t do one of the first run-throughs. After that and a poor showing of my number in general, I also cut my number in half. I’m told that normally, the circus is pretty cool with adapting numbers (or cutting them out completely) when an artist to too sick or injured to perform. However, the timing being what it was, I wasn’t really given that luxury with a blessing.
It would appear that over the summer, the show got less than an outstanding review by Telerama. Telerama, I am told, is the French equivalent to TV Guide and their reviews generally mean something. Mind you, I’m also told that the general public typically agrees that whatever Telerama says, its best to think the opposite.
Anyway, all that to say that there were some serious insecurities floating around. Suddenly, the director is changing scenes, cutting scenes, rearranging scenes and screwing around with the music. By the end of the week in Dole, he had managed to alienate the entire cast. After a two month break and two or three days of rehearsal, we were basically told that what were doing wasn’t good enough. Not enough feeling, not enough life, poor rhythm, the works.
And of course, I got a special place in the “not good enough” category. It would seem that the wheel number is an important moment in the show. It’s the moment where the rhythm really takes off, the space opens, and the show really starts! So I’m told. All that to say that my half-number wasn’t good enough.
I was in pain. I probably shouldn’t even have been doing my number at all, but out of guilt and a “take one for the team” mentality, I did it any way. I worked with the musicians to shorten the music (they did brilliantly by the way). And while the first night was shaky, I feel like we pulled it off in the end.
But the director just kept on me. The first show where I actually felt good before the performance, the show where things were really starting to work in my mini act, he came up to me afterwards and essentially said that it wasn’t enough. They way he said it, it was as though the reason the show wasn’t working was because my act wasn’t working.
Awesome.
Did I mention the director alienated the entire troupe in a matter of days?
Dole sucked. Not the city or the shows, but the atmosphere. They never should have cut the rehearsal days before Dole (and Paris) after a two month break. The director should have some faith in the message he’s trying to share and not tear his artists to pieces. Also, my back should stop hurting.
Dole came and went with a fizzle and some hurt feelings. Hopefully, Paris will be different. But with big changes looming (didn’t mention that did I?) and the eyes of the capital upon us, the fun is undoubtedly just beginning.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Ayoye...
Well hello there!
I haven't written in (over) a month and I'm sure you must be puzzling your puzzler about what I've been up to. Well, up until a week ago, the answer was nothing. I was still on vacation, still without a wheel, and pretty darned bummed about the whole of it.
To break up this monotony during this time off, however, I started having mad back pain for no reason at all. Just the Universe's way of keepin' it real, I suppose.
Also, I'm back in France.
As you can imagine, these things combined have not amounted to anything terribly good. The repercussions on both the show, my mental and physical health, not to mention my wallet, have been many and not usually good.
But all these lovely stories will come to light in due time. After a four day stint in Dole, we now have another two weeks off. And as much as I'd love to start to fill you in on the latest trials and tribulations of this saltimbanque, I'm afraid I have yet another doctor's appointment to attend.
I haven't written in (over) a month and I'm sure you must be puzzling your puzzler about what I've been up to. Well, up until a week ago, the answer was nothing. I was still on vacation, still without a wheel, and pretty darned bummed about the whole of it.
To break up this monotony during this time off, however, I started having mad back pain for no reason at all. Just the Universe's way of keepin' it real, I suppose.
Also, I'm back in France.
As you can imagine, these things combined have not amounted to anything terribly good. The repercussions on both the show, my mental and physical health, not to mention my wallet, have been many and not usually good.
But all these lovely stories will come to light in due time. After a four day stint in Dole, we now have another two weeks off. And as much as I'd love to start to fill you in on the latest trials and tribulations of this saltimbanque, I'm afraid I have yet another doctor's appointment to attend.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Break's Over
Once again, I've fallen off the blogging bandwagon. In a lot of ways, I suppose its understandable. This blog is supposed to be about my experiences working as a circus artist and I'm somewhat on the underemployed side of circus these days. However, that is a reality of the modern day circus artist.
Some days (or months), there's just no work.
So it looks like I'm going to need to refocus the blog over the next month to reflect that.
Normally, in a situation like this, I would be training at the circus school, keeping my wheeling abilities up to scratch. However, as I am without wheel at the moment, that's not exactly in the cards. The good news is, a new wheel has been ordered! Its a real Zimmermann wheel from Germany too! They're the Cadillac of German wheels, if ever you're in the market to get one.
So, what's an acrobat to do? I've made up a work out (which I have been doing a very poor job of following), go for lengthy walks (more on that later) and will be participating in some fun classes!
In the end, it is just a month off. I figure I can keep fit and give myself a little vacation at the same time. I'm pretty sure that's how normal people do it.
Some days (or months), there's just no work.
So it looks like I'm going to need to refocus the blog over the next month to reflect that.
Normally, in a situation like this, I would be training at the circus school, keeping my wheeling abilities up to scratch. However, as I am without wheel at the moment, that's not exactly in the cards. The good news is, a new wheel has been ordered! Its a real Zimmermann wheel from Germany too! They're the Cadillac of German wheels, if ever you're in the market to get one.
So, what's an acrobat to do? I've made up a work out (which I have been doing a very poor job of following), go for lengthy walks (more on that later) and will be participating in some fun classes!
In the end, it is just a month off. I figure I can keep fit and give myself a little vacation at the same time. I'm pretty sure that's how normal people do it.
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