Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Bad News Bear
November was going to be awesome for two reasons:
Thanks economic crisis. What am I supposed to do for the month we suddenly have off?
- My birthday.
- Performing in Portugal.
Thanks economic crisis. What am I supposed to do for the month we suddenly have off?
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Nevers Ever Again
The last few days have found my circus settled in a small town in the middle of France by the name of Nevers. I, for one, cannot wait to leave.
Don't get me wrong, the town is lovely. I get to walk by the Loire river on the way to the theatre every day. The hotel we're staying at has huge beds with big comfy comforters...
So what's the problem?
The theatre itself.
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here
Upon entering the theatre, I felt like I was visiting a penitentiary, or perhaps descending into the basement to meet Hannibal Lector. It's dark, cold and decaying. For reasons I truly cannot understand, there are no toilet seats...
But what makes this theatre truly unbearable is the floor.
Remember that time I was in La Rochelle and bitched about the floor? I take it all back. I mean, everything I had to say about the floor and the importance thereof remains true, but compared to the floor here in Nevers, the floor in La Rochelle is suddenly looking a lot more attractive.
How bad is it? Before I even finished putting together my wheel I had every single stage technician warn me about the floor. And while I can't see just how bad it is due to the dance mat that covers the stage, I certainly can feel it. And the theatre staff isn't terribly helpful on the matter either. All they can offer is "Yeah, it's pretty bad. And the area where you perform is the worst." And while theirs is the kind of floor that should be changed every 10 years, it is still the original from 1973.
The night of the run through was a disaster. If I didn't mess up a figure due to the wheel hitting some random bump or pot hole, I would have to stop and step out of the wheel to readjust its angle so as not to hit someone or something because the bumps and pot holes changed the axis of the line. I was, and still am, scared to do anything on this floor. I have no control and even with marks indicating where I should start, if I'm off by even a few millimeters, well, then its anyone's guess as to how it will go.
The first thing the director said when the dress run was finished was "So what time are you working on wheel tomorrow?" As if I didn't already know how badly it had gone...
So I spent three hours changing the act, substituting technique, rearranging sequences and hoping for the best. It wasn't as simple as just putting in easier tricks. One of the moves I messed up the night of the dress run was one of the easiest I do. But the wheel shifted, threw me to the side, killed the momentum and left me out to dry...
The first days in Nevers made me hate wheel. And even with the changes I dread doing my act. Having changed so much of the number is stressful and sometimes I get completely disoriented on stage. Suddenly realizing you started going the wrong way is hard to cover up when you're manipulating a 100lb steel wheel...
But no matter how bruised or discouraged, the show must go on. Thank the stars above that the run in Nevers is only four shows.
And just to prove I'm not exaggerating...
And remember, the part where I perform is worse than this...
One more show... just one more show...
Don't get me wrong, the town is lovely. I get to walk by the Loire river on the way to the theatre every day. The hotel we're staying at has huge beds with big comfy comforters...
So what's the problem?
The theatre itself.
Abandon all hope, ye who enter hereUpon entering the theatre, I felt like I was visiting a penitentiary, or perhaps descending into the basement to meet Hannibal Lector. It's dark, cold and decaying. For reasons I truly cannot understand, there are no toilet seats...
But what makes this theatre truly unbearable is the floor.
Remember that time I was in La Rochelle and bitched about the floor? I take it all back. I mean, everything I had to say about the floor and the importance thereof remains true, but compared to the floor here in Nevers, the floor in La Rochelle is suddenly looking a lot more attractive.
How bad is it? Before I even finished putting together my wheel I had every single stage technician warn me about the floor. And while I can't see just how bad it is due to the dance mat that covers the stage, I certainly can feel it. And the theatre staff isn't terribly helpful on the matter either. All they can offer is "Yeah, it's pretty bad. And the area where you perform is the worst." And while theirs is the kind of floor that should be changed every 10 years, it is still the original from 1973.
The night of the run through was a disaster. If I didn't mess up a figure due to the wheel hitting some random bump or pot hole, I would have to stop and step out of the wheel to readjust its angle so as not to hit someone or something because the bumps and pot holes changed the axis of the line. I was, and still am, scared to do anything on this floor. I have no control and even with marks indicating where I should start, if I'm off by even a few millimeters, well, then its anyone's guess as to how it will go.
The first thing the director said when the dress run was finished was "So what time are you working on wheel tomorrow?" As if I didn't already know how badly it had gone...
So I spent three hours changing the act, substituting technique, rearranging sequences and hoping for the best. It wasn't as simple as just putting in easier tricks. One of the moves I messed up the night of the dress run was one of the easiest I do. But the wheel shifted, threw me to the side, killed the momentum and left me out to dry...
The first days in Nevers made me hate wheel. And even with the changes I dread doing my act. Having changed so much of the number is stressful and sometimes I get completely disoriented on stage. Suddenly realizing you started going the wrong way is hard to cover up when you're manipulating a 100lb steel wheel...
But no matter how bruised or discouraged, the show must go on. Thank the stars above that the run in Nevers is only four shows.
And just to prove I'm not exaggerating...
And remember, the part where I perform is worse than this...
One more show... just one more show...
Sunday, September 19, 2010
The Classics
This is my last post about the Netherlands. I can think of no better way to say farewell to this lovely country than by giving it a truly Dutch salute!
See you in France!
See you in France!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
GymNet Purmurend
My last day in the Netherlands was spent volunteering at an inter-disciplinary gymnastics event for the GymNet Purmurend gymnastics club. Kids from artistic gymnastics, rhythmic gymnastics, trampoline and gym wheel came together to spend the day trying the disciplines of their acrobatic counterparts.
I spent the day holding the feet of small children so that they didn't fall out of a wheel.
In the end, I was rewarded. Not only with candy and a free pen. Not only with a free t-shirt. No, I was rewarded with the greatest prize of all...
A participation ribbon!
That bad boy is on its way to some prime real estate in my trunk at the circus. Oh yeah.
I spent the day holding the feet of small children so that they didn't fall out of a wheel.
In the end, I was rewarded. Not only with candy and a free pen. Not only with a free t-shirt. No, I was rewarded with the greatest prize of all...
A participation ribbon!
That bad boy is on its way to some prime real estate in my trunk at the circus. Oh yeah.
Blauwe Plekken
When training at a competitive wheel club, there is one thing to be expected more than anything else: You will leave with bruises. Lots, and lots, of bruises.
Repeating movements, especially new figures where the pressure of the wheel is somewhere you're not accustomed to, is a great reminder of how far you've come and how much further there is to go. I would often leave the club with all kinds of new welts, and then wake the following morning unable to move.
Ah, learning.
The most impressive booboo?
20 minutes after impact
Three days later
Repeating movements, especially new figures where the pressure of the wheel is somewhere you're not accustomed to, is a great reminder of how far you've come and how much further there is to go. I would often leave the club with all kinds of new welts, and then wake the following morning unable to move.
Ah, learning.
The most impressive booboo?
20 minutes after impact
Three days laterI know it doesn't look like much, but bear in mind, it is directly on the tibia and over an inch long. The impact was so strong that my shin wasn't sure if it should bleed or not and took a few minutes to think about it before deciding that, yes, blood seemed like the right response to such an assault on its person. If anything hits me in the shin now, the pain is so strong that it takes about a minute before I can walk again.
Now I wish I could say I was doing some kind of cool and terrifying D element of doom, but I was working on a pretty standard figure and one leg was a bit late, which led to me slipping which resulted in the above.
The moral of the story?
Invest in shin pads.
Now I wish I could say I was doing some kind of cool and terrifying D element of doom, but I was working on a pretty standard figure and one leg was a bit late, which led to me slipping which resulted in the above.
The moral of the story?
Invest in shin pads.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Gym Wheel
During my extended stay in the Netherlands I had the good fortune of staying with a friend I met at the Gym Wheel World Championships back in the spring of 2009. To add to that good fortune, I was invited to train at his club!
The combination of no longer being in school and being on tour means that I haven't had a coach for wheel, well, since leaving school. Its always so nice to go train at a real Wheel Club and work with a trainer again. My friend J was really awesome and showed me all kinds of new (and difficult) skills. He seems to have faith in my abilities because we mostly worked on D elements (the most difficult kind in wheel gymnastics). There were some skills that I flat out said I didn't want to work on, because without a coach at all times, they were far too dangerous.
Simply describing them would not do the terror of those particular moves justice. I mean, how can you adequately describe the feeling of slowly letting yourself roll backwards, head first towards the floor, while upside-down, all the while holding on for dear life with forearms twisted in a very unnatural position, all because you need to "wait" for the wheel to get into the right position?
J keeps insisting that I compete at Worlds again in 2011. He even offered to represent me as my coach! It will all depend on the tour schedule of course. In theory, I'm free, but only if we don't do the optional performances, and I won't find that out until the very last minute... But you never know! Competing again makes for a great excuse to head back to the Netherlands to train!
The combination of no longer being in school and being on tour means that I haven't had a coach for wheel, well, since leaving school. Its always so nice to go train at a real Wheel Club and work with a trainer again. My friend J was really awesome and showed me all kinds of new (and difficult) skills. He seems to have faith in my abilities because we mostly worked on D elements (the most difficult kind in wheel gymnastics). There were some skills that I flat out said I didn't want to work on, because without a coach at all times, they were far too dangerous.
Simply describing them would not do the terror of those particular moves justice. I mean, how can you adequately describe the feeling of slowly letting yourself roll backwards, head first towards the floor, while upside-down, all the while holding on for dear life with forearms twisted in a very unnatural position, all because you need to "wait" for the wheel to get into the right position?
J keeps insisting that I compete at Worlds again in 2011. He even offered to represent me as my coach! It will all depend on the tour schedule of course. In theory, I'm free, but only if we don't do the optional performances, and I won't find that out until the very last minute... But you never know! Competing again makes for a great excuse to head back to the Netherlands to train!
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