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