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Festival “Des auteurs, des cirques” - Warm - David Bobee / Groupe Rictus - Parc de la Villette © C. Raynaud de Lage
passers-by in Edinburgh and asked them to describe a circus to
some-one who had never seen one, chances are they would paint
a yester-year image of traditions that even the Moscow State
Circus doesn’t bring into the ring anymore.
Some of the younger ones might refer to the cabaret-cum-freak
shows – the scary oddball tack favoured by American Jim Rose or
the rock-Gothic spectacle, Circus of Horrors – which max out their
publicity with promises of gore and more. Any UK or Scottish tour
of such shows is likely to generate at least one ‘Shock – outrage!’
headline, even though the performances themselves rarely have
the full metal mayhem of the very first Archaos productions to hit
our venues, motor-cycles and chain-saws snarling out decibels of
hell-for-leather danger. Others – mostly drawing on memories
of what they’ve seen on trips abroad – will talk in terms of
fantastical events, exquisitely costumed, full of dazzling special
effects with really great live music... oh, and people on trapezes
or doing aerial work. But in truth, what seems to impress at the
time – and linger on, afterwards – are the trappings rather than
the circus skills within the mise-en-scene.
What words will make the right kind of break-through in these
circumstances? Words that will not traduce the heritage that
connects the roots and branches of circus across the ages, but
which will draw audiences towards work that has itself represented
once familiar acts and, increasingly, brought out the
inherent humanity of what the skills embody. Let’s fix on that word,
‘humanity’. The recent upsurge of interest in learning professional
circus skills in Scotland – England is a tad more forward in its
training opportunities – suggests that the hands-on physicality
of circus is speaking to new generations of performers. They see
Art Writers & Circus Arts
in the visual imagery of flying, of balancing, of juggling, a source
of visceral and involving metaphors that can wordlessly express
aspects of the human condition. Devotees of circus might say it
was always thus – but, as we know from scanning the histories
of all art-forms, styles drop in and out of fashion, often as the
economic climate changes.
Already, too, there are signs that when mainstream theatre or
dance borrows in elements of circus – usually aerial work – the
audience responds with an enthusiasm that goes beyond the
enjoyment of a diverting novelty. The circus energy flicks switches
in the onlookers’ imagination. Takes those of us whose feet are
firmly on the ground – or maybe the treadmill of daily life – into
another dimension. Perhaps we wonder can he – can I? – keep
all those balls in the air..? Will his partner catch him mid-air? (Is
there anyone there to catch me if...?).
Time then, for those of us in the media to make sure that we give
credit for these influencing skills where it is due: in the realms of
circus. The word bestows identity. Maybe come August 2010, the
Fringe brochure will see more companies using that identity with
pride and confidence.
9 October 2009