Circus Video of the Month - March

'When we watch another human being making a movement, whether it is sticking out a tongue, carrying packages, swerving, dancing, eating or clapping their hands, our neurons fire in the same way, as if we ourselves were making the movement.'

'The brain has a built-in empathic and mimicking capacity. It translates what is seen through the eyes into the equivalent of doing and is structured to absorb and prepare itself for what we may not yet have mastered.' 

Susie Orbach

 I came across this quote the other day and am taking it to mean that watching hours and hours of YouTube videos of OTHER PEOPLE doing circus skills, is entirely constructive and useful.

Thanks Susie!

P.S. this video is insane, and is making me want to take rope next term.  I am so confused right now.

Rope or trapeze?

ROPE OR TRAPEZE?

If anyone has any opinion at all on this, please let me know.

Inspiration, Perspiration and Concentration

It's fair to say that the last couple of weeks have been a bit of a challenge in terms of my personal circus skills development. While I've been getting on nicely with the supporting classes I'm doing (flexibility and yoga, plus dabbling with odd bits of ballet and gymnastics for geriatric hephalump dummies), the actual skills classes have not gone so well...

My final flying trapeze class was awful, involving a complete lack of motivation on my part, and doing terribe clingy, jerky take-offs that were worse than my first attempts and which practically wrenched the poor pectoral muscles out of my body.  To round things off nicely, at the end of the class the teacher informed me that I was not good enough to be signed-off for level 2 (at the end of each block of classes, they assesses whether you will be able to progress to the next level with that piece of equipment, should you so choose). I already knew that I don't want to take flying trapeze next term, but it still did NOT feel good to know that I had failed it, wah! I would be lying if I said this didn't put a dent in my rabid aerial enthusiasm.

I am not someone who deals well with failure.  My usual method of coping with even the risk of failing at something is to avoid it at all costs and stick to what I'm good at, or can learn quickly. So in actual fact, this experience was an excellent lesson for me in humility and acceptance. So I'm a bit rubbish at flying trapeze? Whatever. At least I had a go right? And if I really loved it I would just pay another £250 and repeat the course until I was good enough for level 2.  After a few hours of grumpy moping, I realised this and moved on (ish).

That class was also an excellent lesson in how much learning something, at least with physical-skill stuff, is about mental attitude.  I arrived not feeling very energetic or motivated, and instead of bucking myself up and going for it anyway, I gave in to the inclination to be a lame-ass. I had the thought lurking at the back of my mind 'well, I don't want to do this next term anyway, so who cares if I improve this week' and it really showed in my attitude, my body and each little aspect of what I was doing. Clinging to the platform with my toes, not concentrating or getting into the rhythm of the swings properly and dismounting like a jellyfish.  I knew it, and the teacher could see it too - hence the big fat fail.

This week we moved on to Rope, much to my relief. However that session didn't go 100% smoothly either! It wasn't an unmitigated disaster (I managed to execute some clumsy basic climbs and foot wraps), but the rope is quite a harsh piece of equipment, involving a lot of burn/bruising risk and - well, basically you really need to be s.t.r.o.n.g. to do it well. This made everything feel hard and intimidating.

Luckily we have a really nice teacher for this piece of equipment, one who started the class by telling us not to compare ourselves negatively to other people in the group, as everyone is different and learns at their own speed. We should each just try to improve from our own starting points over the 4 weeks. I tried to bear this in mind as I repeatedly failed to achieve what I believe is a hiplock from scissors (I didn't really take this in during the class as my brain was just going 'Arrrrghghghghgh?!?!?!?') while the annoyingly high muscle-to-fat ratio guys in the class got it straight away. Bah humbug.

The move is demonstrated expertly here by this guy who TAUGHT HIMSELF to do it, holy crap.

 

I came away from the session feeling slightly defeated and starting to wonder whether I should even bother finishing the course, or if Rope is just too much of a pointless mountain to climb (seeing as I always intended to do static trapeze next term anyway). But that's just too depressing - such a mindset cannot be allowed to continue!

Remember the old '1% inspiration, 99% perspiration' adage? Well I know the idea of that is to encourage people to put a bit more elbow grease into things, but actually I think I've been getting too bogged down in the perspiration bit and was in need of a bit more of the inspiration (is it really only supposed to be 1%?).  I have spent the last few days happily burrowing my way down a new YouTube rabbit hole full of people doing amazing things on ropes.  There's TONS of good videos, one of them will definitely be video of the month for March.

The result of this has been a big surge of motivation to keep trying on Rope, and actually to also keep an open mind about what I will continue with after Easter.  Even if I'm not a natural at it, I'm sure if go in with a good attitude next week and try to focus a bit more instead of letting my mind spin off into a wild panic of incomprehension, I can improve at least a little bit. Burning new neural pathways and all that (thanks militant teacher from January!). If I can get that blummin scissor hiplock thing down by the end of term I will judge myself to have succeeded, RRARRGH. And even if I don't,  at the very least I'm building upper body strength, which basically helps with everything.

There will be no giving up, not on my watch dammit!

Circus Video of the Month - February

Something a little bit different this month! I have been watching all the circus documentaries I can find for free online (which, although there are tons that you have to pay for, isn't actually that many, booooo. I'm waiting on tenterhooks for 'Grazing the Sky' to go on sale...) and this is hands down the best.

It's an Al Jazeera feature from 2012, about a circus enterprise in Morocco called Cirque Shems'y. Cirque Shems'y started out as a social circus project for disadvantaged kids, but then became the first national circus in Morocco.

It's definitely worth taking 25 minutes out of your day to watch this, for the following reasons:

• It's aesthetically very enjoyable! The contrast between the shots of sweltering, arid Morroccan scenery, deprived areas of town, etc. and the energy and design of the acts / show makes for a really striking effect.
• Every single person in it has passion and love shining out of them.
• There's no pretension, just genuine excitement to be part of something and to be creating something new, as well as having the chance to do what they love and transcending the problems that they had in their lives before.
• It shows the director massively losing his shit somewhere in the middle, which makes it clear how much he cares about the show (it's very endearing) and creates some nice narrative tension, meaning that you can share in a bit of the pleasure when the show goes well.
• The live band which accompanies the performance at the end.  Not only do they play beautiful music, they also just look BRILLIANT. I want to join them!
• The soundbites from the performers (see below)

 

One of the best things about it is the way you see the radiant positivity of the performers transferred to the members of the audience who are interviewed after they watch the show.  This feels really important to me - maybe it's the point of spending all those hours honing and creating something amazing? Communicating a part of your passion and inspiration to other people, who maybe aren't able to spend the time connecting with those things through physical training, but can benefit from sharing them nonetheless?   

The aspect of this video that really stayed with me, though, are some of the things the performers say near the end:

'when you are onstage, you feel a sense of real joy. You have to really concentrate and you get a really nice feeling...'

'When we're in this ordinary everyday world, we feel ordinary. But when I'm in the circus and I'm up in the air doing a sequence I know really well, I have a feeling of lightness... like a dove flying free.  I feel really free.'

'When I get on stage, it's just like I'm dreaming. I forget everything in my head, everything vanishes. I'm not there, my body is just doing things unconsciously.'

I think this really helps explain why learning circus skills can have such a strong effect on people.  The words 'freedom' and 'joy' come up again and again in talk about the experience of doing things like aerial and acrobatics.  And the idea of concentration and forgetting yourself fits exactly with the whole theory of 'flow' - the younger boy in the film even uses that very word: 'I just flow with the show, flow and flow...til I feel it's over.'  You've probably encountered it before, but basically 'flow' is the mental state that is supposed to occur when someone is immersed in an activity which is neither too difficult or too easy, but is perfectly pitched to their abilities with clear, achievable goals. When you are in flow, you are so absorbed in what you're doing that you lose all sense of time, or yourself, and your emotions are spontaneously positive and energised.  Flow is pretty much the key to happiness - if you believe what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi says anyway (I think I do). 

This all may be particularly interesting to me because I'm so into the idea of the 'benefits' of doing circus (and because I have a bit of an unrequited desire to visit Morocco), but I really think this is an excellent piece of human interest documentary.  Hopefully you do too!

Trapeze: Cornucopia of Goodness

Human in graceful flight (pic found on Pinterest, not sure who to credit!)

It's been half-term at the NCCA this week, which means no classes, and although I've tried to substitute mine with another beginners ballet class and an aerial conditioning/rope class somewhere else (rope = fun, who knew!) I have definitely missed my weekly trapeze fix.  Which has made me wonder why it is that I love it so much, even though I'm a complete novice. What is it exactly that makes messing about on a bar and some ropes so appealing?

I guess the most obvious things are the usual endorphins you get from exercising, and the feeling of connecting back into your body, of using it properly, after a long day hunched over a computer. But it can't be just those things, because you can get them from any old sport right? Including running (not for me, thanks), ball sports (are you insane?) and swimming (oh dear god, no!).

I was thinking maybe it's the added 'artistic' factor. You know, that there's a bit more style and beauty about trapezing than, say, athletics or netball. But that's equally true of dance, and although I feel there's potential for me to grow to enjoy dance classes, I haven't immediately fallen in love with them the way I did with trapeze.

No, aerial classes give me so much more.

First there's the pleasantly light-hearted experience of learning a new skill in a positive, non-competitive atmosphere where repeated failure and looking silly is totally acceptable because everyone is in the same boat. Turning upside down with your bum in the air and twisting/swinging your body into new shapes is something its impossible not to look silly doing - most people up laughing at themselves and everyone else.  Then bit by bit, move by move, this becomes a triumphant feeling of achievement and pride as you start to master some of the tasks and techniques, along with feeling genuinely happy for others who are also succeeding, because you understand.

As well as gradually getting physically stronger, more capable, and achieving things you didn't think you would be able to, with aerial skills you get the added frisson of being a bit daring. Of doing things that take a little courage and grit, and the ability to deal with pain. Personally I love this, even if it's not a completely accurate view of myself just yet! I have spent much of my life being geeky, non-sporty and utterly impractical, but building up my aerial skills makes me feel like I'm giving those bitchy, sadistic hockey girls from school the middle finger.  F**k you I'M PROPER HARD and stuff me now, haha. I mean this symbolically obviously.

(Why is it your school experiences stay with you for basically ever?  I'm 33 for goodness sake, but I still remember certain PE lessons at school in great detail *shudder*)

Freedom (pic from fuckyeahcircus.tumblr.com)

But apart from all this constructive physical stuff, trapeze especially is just good for your soul, I think. The sensation of flying, or being uplifted - even just by being up high on the equipment - is something that fufills some funny human need.  I'm sure there's all sorts of literature about the human desire to fly, but I don't need to read it to know that it's a thing - at least for me.  Who doesn't see birds soaring up into the sky and wish they could do the same?  It looks like freedom.  It looks like joy. Trapeze gives you a taste of this freedom from the weight of gravity (don't worry, I'm not about to break into song), and it also gives you a taste of a greater freedom of movement in your body, because training increases your strength and flexibility.

It's lovely.  Even watching someone else do it is fabulous.

It's not just me that's noticed the mood-enhancing qualities of trapeze either.  I had a little Google time and found a few other people espousing the benefits. Most noteably there's a lady called Jo Rixom who has run a project with My Aerial Home in south London, looking at the effect of trapeze lessons on women with depression. I was not at all surprised to learn that the results were definitively positive. This story was picked up by the Guardian and the BBC last year and subsequently all over the place, yet somehow I missed it!

Quite a few things in the articles chimed with me, but I particularly liked the quote from a participant that 'trapeze is symbolic of things out of reach and you find your way to get up... to turn your body upside-down was extraordinary, as an adult shifting your whole perspective physically moved things'. Read all about it here, or watch the BBC video. Jo Rixom had an academic article published about the project too - nice work lady!

I also found a great blog post, which is along similar lines to this one, but way funnier:

http://romywood.co.uk/reasons-why-people-with-manic-depression-are-suited-to-the-circus/

Despite these bits and bobs, and the handful of articles about social circus, I get the feeling that there's potential for more research in this area. Maybe it's just because I'm working in an academic environment at the moment, but.... my PhD ambitions are stirring again. Whether it's remotely possible for me to do a project on the therapeutic effects of trapeze without a degree in Psychology is doubtful, but I'm SO glad that I've discovered - even as a stiff, flabby adult - the happiness that is hanging upside down from bit of circus equipment!!

Aerial Lesson #3 - Flying Trapeze

So, with the swiftly rotating nature of the NCCA Aerial 1 course, last Wednesday ushered in my first ever lesson on Flying Trapeze! Hell yeah!!

I had basically no preconceptions of what flying trapeze would be like. Strangely, I've never been that bothered about the whole 'flying' part of the trapeze concept, which seems to be what most people get excited about - but I was open to giving it a try. I guess I had a vague impression of one of the other groups swinging around somewhere over the other side of the room while we were doing our stuff on static.  I could see there were harnesses involved anyway, so the flying bit was not gonna be a big deal, lalala.

For this first week, there was a lot of safety instructing. It was all very sensible. Yeah yeah, the belt is tight enough, we know how to stand on the platform correctly, yaaaaawn and then -
   - BAM, three of us were up on a terrifyingly high and narrow ledge, clinging onto the ropes by just our little slick-with-fear-sweat hands, swallowing back the nausea and helping each other shakily attach harnesses, check carabiners and hook the trapeze up. I was honestly not expecting it to be anything since I don't have vertigo and it did NOT look that bad from ground level, but ohhhh mama. That shit was genuinely scary.

Of course, along with the gut wrench of dropping off the platform, comes the massive exhilarating adrenaline rush as you swing through the air with the greatest of ease (haha), beating your legs like some kind of demented dolphin...before finally dropping to the ground (crash mat) on command and trying to regain your dignity whilst surreptitiously brushing off the Residue of Terror (rosin dust).

Pic borrowed from media.visitbritain.com

I suppose it was pretty good. Fair to middling.

OK it was SO MUCH FUN!!!

The thing that surprised me the most, though, was actually the effect of working together to support and ensure the safety of everyone in a group, in a situation that feels a bit under pressure-ish (under pressure to not chicken out, or accidentally kill yourself by letting go and landing on your skull somehow  - even though this wasn't remotely possible, it kind of felt as if it could happen - and also because the instructor was trying to keep things snappy so we could all get a proper turn).  I now know all the names of the other people in my group, and despite the fact they are basically strangers, feel some level of affection/respect towards all of them, both for having guts and successfully fly-trapezing, and for helping me not die. Always an endearing trait in a fellow human, helping you not die.

It was.... nice?  And I say that as someone who is emphatically not a team-player, joiner, group mentality, team spirit type at all. This kind of thing traditionally repels and disgusts me.  But I guess now I kind of understand why activities like this are good for 'team bonding' (ugh I hope never to use that odious corporate phrase again). I hereby grudgingly acknowledge it as a thing.

In other news, this week I have been capitalising on the big kick of motivation I got from watching Stateless and have been busting my ass. As well as the usual aerial and flexibility classes at NCCA, I have done a yoga class, beginners ballet class, and beginners jazz dance class. That's an unprecedented FIVE exercise sessions! In one week! I'm interested to see how long it takes before my inherent lazy slob-ness kicks back in.

Pic borrowed from turn-uppatch.blogspot.co.uk

Things I have learned from taking 'beginners' dance classes:

1. When they say 'Beginners' they actually mean 'people who already have some co-ordination and control over their limbs'.  
2. I am not naturally gifted in the arena of choreographed dance.
3. Unlike circus skills venues, dance studios are lined with mirrors. These mirrors are not your friend, they are there to show you exactly how ridiculous/flabby/ancient you look. It is all part of a dastardly plan by the dance people to make you spend every penny you earn on more dance classes, in an attempt to become less ridiculous/flabby/ancient. 
4. For a gallumphing decrepit crone such as I, dance classes are essentially an exercise in public humiliation (I possibly shouldn't have gone to the famous Pineapple Dance Studios in Covent Garden for my first attempt, but waited and signed up for the 'dance for ABSOLUTE beginners who can't even follow the simplest moves, haha you bunch of RETARDS, we spit on you!' course at an obscure adult education college next term).
5. Despite points 1-4, dance classes are extremely enjoyable and energizing. Really! I will probably go back to the ballet one as I could see it improved my posture and limb-control within minutes.

Circus Video of the Month - January

I know I'm a day late with this post, but shhhhh, maybe no-one else has noticed!

It's that time again! Time for me to share another fabulous diamond in the rough of circus videos on YouTube.  This feature is kind of like Humans of New York - except, I don't interview the subjects,  share their moving life stories, have an incredibly popular Facebook page, or the slightest clue what I'm doing.

It's absolutely nothing like Humans of New York.

ANYWAY, here is this month's offering.  To be fair it's not really much of a secret, this one.  The video actually comes up on the first page when you search 'static trapeze', but it is one of the most-watched trapeze videos for a very good reason - it's lovely.

The trapezista here is Shannon Gray Collier, whose personal website unfortunately seems to have expired, but from what I can determine is American, does a fair bit of performing and was big on competitive athletics growing up. There's a more polished version of this act on her YouTube page, but I prefer this one. I don't know why, there's just something about it that is totally captivating.  Maybe it's to do with the small venue? And the fact that she speaks to the audience whilst dangling from the bar, looking like a gangly teenager, before unceremoniously launching into a whole load of stunning mundane-reality-transcendence?

The fact she is incredibly skilled and graceful goes without saying, but Shannon has this lyrical, emotional quality to her movement that I haven't seen anywhere else on trapeze. This, together with her total concentration, delicate control and ability to be completely absorbed in what she is communicating somehow makes it really moving.

When you combine all of this with the connection and responsiveness to the music it just equals infinitely watchable - and when I say infinitely, I actually don't think it's possible to get tired of watching this video! (Of course it helps that the song is SO GOOD. Whatever happened to The Cinematic Orchestra? Are they still around? I need to look into this).

Writing About Circus

In place of a post about my third week of aerial lessons*, I decided it might be time to unleash my attempt at a review of a circus/dance/physical theatre performance, right here, straight into your eyeballs, pow! BUT...  then I changed my mind.

On Saturday night I went to see the premiere of 'Stateless' by a small Hampshire-based company called Joli Vyann, at the excellent Jackson's Lane  - a venue which specialises in contemporary circus and one which I hope to visit many more times in the future, despite the really steep steps up to it from the tube station (it's likely I only resented these because we were late and running up them like mad things, don't let it put you off!).

Stateless looked something like this:

Jackson's Lane describe it on their website as exploring the subject of refugees, immigration and journeys, with powerful stories of upheaval and crossing borders, intense physicality, and moments of sadness, courage and friendship.

There were. And what's more it was stunning. I was literally on the edge of my seat the whole way through and close to tears at one point, so emotionally charged was the performance. I emerged more convinced than ever that I have basically wasted my life up to this point, and should be spending every minute possible doing circus skills, yoga, dance - anything to be able to experience just a tiny fraction of the soaring freedom and creative/physical fulfillment that those performers must feel on a daily basis. Which is to say, I was moved and inspired in equal measure.

But review it? I don't think I can. I'm not sure the videos even do it justice, let alone some words of mine on a computer screen.  All I have in my head is the old quote 'Writing about music is like dancing about architecture' (in this case music = circus...just humour me).  No matter how many superlatives and similes and artful descriptions I could try to come up with, I don't believe I can recreate the experience of watching a show like that for a reader. It would be like trying to translate a heart-rending piece of orchestral music into braille, or paint a picture of a smell that reminds you of walking home from school on a rainy day in 1993.

No, I will leave such alchemy to the accomplished circus review bloggers already out there conjuring wonders with their words (great examples can be found here and here) and instead just bluntly encourage anyone who stumbles across this to:

Go and see some for yourself!

Watching circus is like seeing a live music performance.  Yes, you can watch a video at home for free, or listen to a recording on your ipod sitting on the bus, the notes as perfectly preserved as a butterfly under glass, but nothing compares to the real thing.

Nothing compares to seeing real human beings, in the flesh, accomplishing crazy-beautiful things with incredible talent and pushing intense emotions out into the same air that you are breathing.  You can't help but absorb a little bit of it, can't prevent the very cells of your body recalibrating in response to the vibrations from the stage. With all our amazing technology, and ability to summon almost any viewing experience at the touch of a button, it's easy to forget about the sheer electric feeling of seeing someone accomplish wonders in front of you.

But I think it's worth paying a bit more money, making a bit of a journey, to be able to remind yourself that there IS real magic in the world, and sometimes you can almost reach out and touch it.

* I didn't make it to class, sob! But I predict the post would only have been along the lines of : 'we did Spider and Amazon' anyway, so the world is probably not that much emptier without it...