Performance maker Ellie Dubois takes us beyond the glitz and ‘good times’ of circus to show us the plain humanity behind the perseverance and pain behind the artistry – challenging, in particular, what we expect from female performers.
First, it’s Fran, wearing a black and white striped strip adorned with sequins and carrying her accordion, who fixes the audience with a solid stare. She’s in no hurry, this will be on her terms. She breaks into the broadest of smiles – ah yes, that’s what we’re used to – and begins to play. Then, to the sounds of Bing Crosby singing Lay That Pistol Down, a song about a man who has ratted on his girlfriend, the company of five circus artistes shoot through a medley of leaps, somersaults and splits. There is good energy between these women, who sense and enjoy their own their space – that’s the message we latch onto.
Kate introduces Camille, queen of the Cyr wheel. Standing within this metal circular tube, looking not unlike Da Vinci’s illustration of Vitruvian Man, Camille makes it circle, spin and roll gyroscopically while her colleague spells out the potential dangers she faces should she get it wrong – broken toes, fingers, whole foot etc. The dark commentary serves as perfect counterpoint to the easy aesthetic we enjoy as an audience. And the movement is dazzling especially when Camille appears to fly outwards with her legs free.
Alice then tries to engage us with a welcome message from the stage but is quickly thwarted by her fellow performers who insist she just perform more tricks, better tricks, and ‘just… keep smiling’. This scenario needn’t have been repeated, the good people of BS3 are pretty quick – and started to fall a bit flat during a second and third replay.
Kate took to the microphone to say that as a professional circus performer with a degree, it grated to be asked to ‘do some dainty aerial routines’ when she is clearly a fine-tuned athlete (not her words) – something she illustrated with some extraordinary running somersaults between sentences. As if to accentuate this troupe’s credentials, Fran returned to stun us with a powerful act suspended only by her hair.
A wee bit of editing might have helped, but overall this performance had grit, delivered its message with good humour and style while revealing the ‘ordinariness’ of the performers, by which I mean just seeing them sit in a row eating doughnuts after a routine, just being people. That, I’m sure, is what Dubois wants from us. A good start for the new Spielman Theatre.
★★★★☆ Simon Bishop 25th October 2018
Photo by Chris Reynolds