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Flash Review 2, 11-7:
Magic Circus Ride By Christine Chen SAN FRANCISCO -- As a child, I never really cared for the circus. I associated The Greatest Show on Earth with sticky summer nights in a stuffy, overcrowded, elephant-reeking, freak-infested tent -- and I always felt burdened by the sense of obligation to have a good time even while the feats of derring-do failed to arouse the sense of awe the ringmaster promised. A couple of years ago I saw Cirque du Soleil ("La Nouba" and "O"), and for the first time, the circus elicited the drop-jaw, unwipe-able grin reaction I missed in my youth. My circus experience was reclaimed, and I became smitten with the contemporary circus arts. Born in the 1970s from the restless energy of street performers and circus artists intent on reinventing the circus, the contemporary circus genre is a melange of high and low art forms (theater, dance, circus arts, athletics, music, etc.) often unified by a singular vision or concept rather than a master of ceremonies. Cirque du Soleil, the best-known of such companies, has brought this form into mainstream American culture. Compagnie Cahin-Caha's Cirque Batard, whose performance piece "raWdoG" plays at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts through November 19, is the result of a cross pollination between the already mixed breed of contemporary French circus and the political athleticism of the San Francisco dance aesthetic. Jules Beckman, Jess Curtis and Keith Hennessy, all former members of the much-revered San Francisco company Contraband, are dancers, choreographers, musicians, jugglers (Hennessy), and clowns, while Linet Andrea, Gulko (the director), and Eric Lecomte are all multitalented circus artists. While Cirque du Soleil has streamlined its shows into slick displays of polished virtuosity worthy of its Disney and Vegas venues, the Franco-Franciscan company Cahin-Caha goes for a more down and dirty, rock ân roll trash aesthetic. From the raucous costumes to the thrift store furniture props to the slightly unstable kiosk (designed by Silvain Ohl, and housing the action), the populist design of the performance is matched by the unbridled, passionate energy and style of the performers. "raWdoG" (note: read backwards) is based on the holy triad of themes: War (death), Love (sex) and God (existence). In an opening image, a giant teddy bear falls from the top of the kiosk and its innards (represented by red satin) come flowing out. Keith Hennessy, costumed in lime green rain boots and a WWI aviator's hat mourns for this bear. Insert appropriate interpretation of this metaphor for falling/death/loss/innocence/war here. After the various players are introduced, the action moves into a STOMP-esque rowdy rhythm romp. Aside: I hate to use the STOMP analogy here because the act of using found objects to create complex, expressive, movement-inspired rhythms has a much more rich, politically subversive basis (slavery) than this comparison conveys. However, for the most accessible, descriptive reference, this seems most appropriate. From this, a combative contact-inspired dance duet ensues. This partnering manages to remain riveting because it is imbued with context and characterizations, even though the actual choreography, while dynamic and athletic, contains mostly recycled tricks of the dance world. Then there is love. Linet Andrea gives a rock star performance by belting the blues while performing intricate maneuvers on the trapeze. Her feats of virtuosity are understated when layered with her vocal stylings and lyrical content -- thereby rendering the otherwise standard trapeze skills relevant and moving. Jules Beckman, dressed in a red sequined bra, a red helmet, and a pair of masculinity-enhanced red satin briefs plays the messenger of love to the juggling Keith Hennessy, who, otherwise virtually naked, now has the giant teddy bear strapped to his back. Beckman builds an increasingly precarious platform out of rickety sawhorses, table tops, old desks, chairs and tin cans and directs Hennessy to step, while juggling, higher and higher. Beckman, speaking alternately in French and English, meanwhile waxes poetic on the nature of love. Andrea translates and interprets his musings from her trapeze. The message here: love is about trust and risk, manipulation and power, danger and mistakes, misunderstanding and communication. In the climax, sexual and otherwise, a richly layered collage of (co)motion builds slowly from Hennessy's one-man monologue to a cacophony of text, music, and images: Curtis masturbates (the end of the rope which ties him to the top of a pillar on the kiosk serves as his surrogate member), Gulko takes an axe to the stage and unearths a section of water, Andrea wails with her voice and her body, Beckman flails himself into a frenzy, Lecomte climbs around the kiosk, and Hennessy repeatedly attempts to deliver his monologue (though thwarted by the chaos with each successive try) while the rebellious rock music surges. The action ebbs again and Gulko explores a rope loosely strung over the newly uncovered section of shallow water. He swings, balances, bounces, falls and hurls his body around on the (not so tight) tightrope and in the water as his long locks fling droplets over the stage in a Bauchian display of ecstasy and baptism. The other cast members, now all rock stars, work the band instruments, and the lyrics: "Ne tombe pas." Gulko is joined on stage by Curtis who, drenched in water, writhes on the floor as a fish out of water. The raw sound of the slapping, sliding and suction of his wet body on the stage appropriately accompanies his emotionally visceral movement. Lecomte in a tour de force denouement takes the audience on its final surge of adrenaline - flying, twirling and tumbling high above on a rope swing. The piece concludes on a quiet, reflective note of solitude as Gulko descends in a slow-motion free fall headfirst from beyond our sight above, continuing beyond our sight below through the hole in the kiosk. He speaks of falling, existence, God and philosophy and we feel a surreal gravity, in both senses of the word, in this poignant finale. Though tackling such high-minded themes as God, war and love, "raWdoG," in old school circus tradition, manages to keep entertainment at its core. The pacing ebbs and flows smoothly, and the action and content can be enjoyed on a variety of levels -- from the uninhibited physical, to the gritty emotional, to the calm intellectual. And the multifaceted performers, fully committed to every aspect of the production, take us on a wild ride. |
