Circus Video of the Month - May

This month's video is something different again - nothing to do with aerial, not really amateur and, being a Broadway thing, more of a commercial style than I would normally enjoy, BUT.  It's been compulsive repeat viewing for me and is kind of amazing, so I figured why not share it?

I think hand-to-hand acrobatics is my all-time favourite thing to watch. Following my enamorment with Stateless, I went to see A Simple Space a few weeks ago and absolutely loved that too (so clever). Sadly I think it's probably also the thing I am most unsuited to doing myself, since the few gymnastics classes I've taken just felt terribly hard and uncomfortable. Have I mentioned my extreme galumphing-ness and lack of flexibility? Humbug. I'm still holding out hope that handstand stuff could be a possibility for me though - next on my list to try!

Anyway, so the video. These guys are Charlotte O'Sullivan and Nicolas Jelmoni, from the cast of Pippin the Musical, a Broadway show that combines musical with circus. Their act is some kind of magical fluid blend of dance and acrobatics that does funny things to my insides (errm, it might be that feeling known as 'jealousy' acidically melting my guts). I feel like I may be overusing this word in my description of circus acts, but well, it's beautiful! Check it out:

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.

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...