Zoiks!

Tomorrow is the first full of run of the show.

The first full run of the show!

I'm nervous, excited, relieved, worried, full of dread and ready to kick some ass all at once.

Hopefully this time I'll have a chance to give a run down of how it goes, seeing as I never did get around to writing about the first partial run through.

We ran the second half today and its exhausting. I think this is going to be a very challenging show. We'll see what tomorrow holds...

The Real Heroes

Our show has a rather ridiculous amount of accessories and props, most of which are either huge, heavy, or both. Not only that, but there are crazy set changes and more often than not, startlingly little time to do them in.

And we, the artists, being the spoiled lot that we are, are spared the majority of these inconveniences. Those tedious, cumbersome jobs are left to our stage technicians.

And if I may say so, our technicians are made entirely out of awesome.

All three of them.

That's right, I said three.

Our riggers work so hard, have such long hours (I think that right now they're probably pulling 13 hour days) and put up with so much merde... it's way above and beyond the call of duty. That is why I made them a big honkin' batch of chocolate chip cookies yesterday.

I have a huge amount of respect for riggers and technicians. I see how a lot of people treat them as glorified servants. I can't even name all tasks they're charged with. Not to mention all the tasks that probably don't fall under their jurisdiction but they have dumped on them any way. One morning not too long ago, the head stage technician, having just woken up, already had the director on his case for some new development. He had just stepped out of his caravan! Hadn't even had a cup o' joe!

I don't think its intentional, but I feel that very often in the performing arts, those who work on the technical side are treated as second class citizens. I can see how it tends to happen. You have the artists, so used to performing on stage, who naturally take the limelight and (this was particularly apparent when I was in theatre) have a slight tendency to bust out their inner divas.

But riggers and technicians are artists in their own right. And while the public may come to see the artists and the stories they have to tell, the truth is that without the technicians, there wouldn't be much of a show. The transitions wouldn't happen, there would be no costumes, no sound, no lights.

In this line of work, there shouldn't be a hierarchy, only partnership.

While this is slightly off topic, I can't help but share this video. Mike Rowe of Discovery Channel's Dirty Jobs gives an excellent talk about work, how society views work and how things aren't necessarily the way we've been taught.



No matter where you work or what your field of work, there is undoubtedly someone who's role is overlooked and undervalued, despite the fact that without them, there's a good chance things would run less smoothly. If you work in the circus, go thank your technicians, or better still, go talk to them without asking them for anything. If you don't work in the circus, I'm pretty sure you can think of someone who could use a little appreciation. The custodian, the maintenance man, or perhaps the barista who serves you the infusion of caffeine that gets you through the day...

Me? I have a plate of cookies to deliver.

Worlds Update

Last weekend I set my piece for Worlds. Well, more or less. When I tried to run it today I pretty much had to reestablish every single transition. But the good news is, if last week my routine was set, now its super set!

I was expecting it to be really difficult to run a three minute long straight line sequence, but it was way easier than running my number. Yes, I messed up quite a lot, but that's normal for a first run through. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised though. My act in the show is twice as long as the routine for Worlds, so of course my show number is much more challenging.

What I love about having a full out straight line routine is that all my big tricks are in it! It makes me feel like one helluva bad ass. I don't know if I'll be up to par with the athletes who genuinely train for Worlds, but I think I'll be representing Canada and the circus world well.

And Now For Something Completely Different...

The pressure is mounting and there's much grumbling in and around the Chapiteau. I dare say its high time for a dose of awesome!

Ready?

Circus Waffles!

Waffles: Like pancakes, but with a syrup trap.

Number Drama: An Update

Its been a rocky, uphill battle these past few days as far as my number is concerned. The notes concerning my number after the first run through consisted of:

• Its too long, make it shorter. *
  
• Also, add more pauses.
• I like spirals. There should be more spirals. Why aren't there more spirals?
• The music crushes you, but not the rock and roll part**.
  
• Why must you manipulate your wheel? Can't you do it less? Why don't you just finish in the right spot for the next move?
  

I think there was more conflicting craziness, but those were the big ones. Thank goodness for the assistant director. After my number got trashed (seriously, they have seen it several times over the last few weeks, why have they waited until now to say these things?), he came up to me and said, "Just some positive notes for you: There's a huge difference in your connection to the audience and the musicians. I can really see the work you've put into it."

Thank you...

That was all up to yesterday. We ran the first chunk of the show again today, with very different results.

For starters, I ran my number in my costume (my super hot costume!). Also, midway through my number the composer decided the musicians were playing so poorly that they had to stop and start over again. Meaning that I had to stop and start over again. Only after he stopped and made a scene did he ask if it was okay to do so. A little late, don't you think?

If you'll permit me this aside, as circus artists, we never have a chance to start over when we mess up. We learn early on in our training that we need to work through our errors, and over come our mistakes without letting it show in our faces or in our bodies. To me, that was inexcusable and I told him so after wards. The musicians always apologize to me when they play poorly. I understand that we all have our off nights, that we make mistakes and that right now, they are still in the process of mastering the twenty some odd pieces they have to learn. So no worries. But when you act without professionalism, then I take issue.

That being said, the redo was brutal. Not in the way you would think though. The first time I started my number I was really into it, and felt really, really good in what I was doing. When I had to start over, I was already pretty tired (and frustrated), and so everything became much more laboured. Considering the lack of love for my manipulations, I was rather worried about the feedback I would later receive for my heinous (the really were heinous) manipulations.

Much to my surprise, however, I got pretty good reviews. Today it was super. Today, the director took notice of my connection to those around me. The musicians noticed it too. They love the costume (did I mention its hot?), and the last line is just amazing.

There's just that one sequence that's too far back. We can't see it well. Especially since there's no light there. Do you really need the main straight line sequence of your act?

Sigh...

I'm sure the nitpicking is for the best, but seriously, soon I'm going to start punching people. One thing that amazes me is that the director of the show is one of the founding members of this circus company, has been doing shows for 25 years and used to be in them as a juggler. Despite all this experience, he is not, nor has he ever been an acrobat. And regardless of all the experience he has being around acrobats, he is completely oblivious to the needs and demands that we acrobats have. It would be really funny if it weren't so damn infuriating.

Fortunately, I think I have a solution to this latest problem.

And if that's not a ray of sunshine, this next bit most certainly is.

Our master set and prop builder saw the run today. It was the first time he's seen anything of the show. He gave me a glowing review, loved the number, and found that it was one of the most powerful moments in a show that has few powerful moments.

I'm getting there...



* Remember how I was told that my number was eight minutes long? The next day, as we continued the giving of notes, the German wheel number was suddenly six minutes 57 seconds. Without even trying I lost a minute three over night! Woo! Looks like my argument won.

** My number has three phases in the music. It starts off very soft and pretty, then gets all intense and moody, and then turns into full out rock and roll.

Growing Pains

Okay. Things haven't been so great lately. But I am trying really hard to be open and to grow. Yes, I take some time to vent and be grumpy, but then I seek the counsel of others and (hopefully) move on and become better.

That being said, I had a rather disturbing revelation the other day. Maybe its just the panicked-laced discouragement talking, but I am no longer an artist.

I am, of course. Just not in this show. Not right now, anyway. I was for a time, when we were doing research and proposing all kinds of stuff. Now I'm just a performer moving from point A to point B with (insert emotion) for reasons unknown because the director told me to.

That came out with somewhat more hostility than I intended...

This is something I have a really hard time with. Maybe its the theatre school background talking, but I kind of like it when things make sense and actions occur, not just for a reason, but with some kind of continuity with what just happened. Oh! And when images exist for reasons beyond their own sake... that's pretty damn sweet too.

Where is this hostility coming from?

I had yet another talk with our assistant director not too long ago. He's really a wonderful man who is not only easy to talk to, but also provides me with clarity. I told him how I'm lost, and how don't understand how to make the transitions being asked of me (particularly the one after my number), and how I feel like I'm constantly being pushed in directions I have absolutely no desire to go. Then I told him how I feel like a performer and not an artist. His response knocked me on my ass.

He told me that right now, I am a performer. Not because I'm not doing my job, but because that's what the show needs me to be right now. Yes, during my number I am telling a story, one that means quite a lot to me. And while I'd really like to be able to finish it the way I feel I need to, I need to pass on the torch. It may not feel right, but the show needs it.

Wow.

I have tremendous respect for honesty, and even more respect for those who can be honest with tact and grace. So I have decided to let go more. And while part of me hates to admit it, things have been better since I made the choice to be a little less defensive.

We did a run of the first 3/4 of the show today (more on that in a later post). Its the first run of that magnitude that we've done. And it went surprisingly well. Both for the overall flow of the show and for me, personally.

After my number I received glowing compliments from our resident cartoonist (don't ask), one of the technicians said that "at least K got things done", and even the assistant director said that this was the first time he didn't see a gymnast and really started to feel something when I did my number!

Yeah!

It may sound like this tale of growth is going to have a happy ending, but sadly, that is not the case. Despite what I thought was a victory and a step in the right direction, our director thinks otherwise.

Right now, the show is too long. That's clear. He told me my number is eight minutes long and that I need to cut things. He then added that I should add more pauses (wtf?!). Now, it is a matter of fact that my number is not eight minutes long because my music is only about six minutes and forty seconds long. And today, I finished way before the music did. I had to ask, did that eight minutes happen to include the two times I cross the stage in my wheel beforehand?

The answer, as I suspected, was yes. As far as I'm concerned, crossing the stage a couple of times in my wheel is not part of my number. Saying that because I'm in my wheel automatically makes it a part of my number is not a valid argument. Its the transition into my number, the transition that was imposed on me by the director I might add.

I've been left in a position where I have to cut out chunks of the existing number while adding gratuitous pauses after I manipulate my wheel to hide the fact that I'm manipulating my wheel.

Deep breaths...

This leaves me in a very delicate position. I maintain that my crossing the stage twice is not a part of my number. I had already planned to shorten the first spiral sequence, but beyond virtually eliminating most of my spirals (which leaves me asking, why even bother to do wheel if you omit half of the technical vocabulary?), there's nothing really left take out. The director suggested cutting out part of my lines. Part of a line means an entire line sequence. The way the sequences are designed allow me to end up exactly where I need to be for the next part of the number. Take out a part and suddenly I'm on the wrong side of the stage. So not only do I lose technique, but often artistic elements as well. To do what he wants means to make a new number, and its too late for that.

I'm rather at a loss. I really want to commit to being more open and accepting of criticism and all that, but where is the line drawn? When is it right to fight and when should you walk away? If sitting through my number felt long and boring, that would be one thing. But all the feedback I've received has suggested otherwise. What's really frustrating is that there are people in the show who have multiple numbers and multiple appearances on stage. After my character was unceremoniously cut from the show, I was essentially left with only my number. Can't you give me my extra 30 seconds and maybe cut one of the clown's three acts or perhaps one of his many interventions?

I brought this up with a dear friend and co-worker. His answer was perfect. When it comes to your number, you fight. When it comes to the more collective moments or transitions, you can let go.

We'll see what happens tomorrow...

Worlds Update

I just received an e-mail from my 'coach' for Worlds informing me that he's signed me up for the team competition. Clearly, I can't compete as a team all by my lonesome. That's why Wolfgang fandangled a super team consisting of Canada, Ethiopia and the United States!

Yeah team Canada/Ethiopia/USA!

Wait, what?