Circus of the Soul

The circus leaves a sweet memory.
– Fernando Botero

A breath away from 18, I eased into an encounter with a lion tamer. By then I already had plenty of experience on the road showing horses, so nomadic blood spiraled through my veins. When not setting up and tearing down for horse shows, from place to place, I found other creative paths to distract me from school. When the circus rolled into town one autumn day, the circus performer with a mane of bronze curls got wind of me. He called from the fairgrounds to inquire about whips. Long whips for his big cats. I told him I had a few about 6’ in length. Now it’s unlikely an untethered teenager peddling equestrian supplies as a sideline, would demure or defer. So when he asked if I could deliver, I agreed to make the drop behind the big top – that evening.

 I could spend my whole life photographing circuses. They combine everything I’m interested in – they’re ironic, poetic, and corny at the same time. There’s also something about a circus that’s magical, sentimental, and almost tragic, like a Fellini film.
– Mary Ellen Mark

Some years later – A few weekends ago, I find myself in the crisp Sonoma air outside a bright blue and candy apple red striped tent, lined up with 139 other seekers of wonder. Once inside the intimate space, an enigmatic clown introduces Freedom, the new show of the 1920s old style French Cirque de Bohème. “The story,” he promises, “will unfold during the past, present and future, somewhere in your dreams, your memory and your imagination.”

No peanuts, popcorn, or scent of wood shavings. No trained tigers, plumed horses or endangered elephants. No whips to crack – not even a lion tamer. I know you’re festering over the 6’ whips I mentioned, so as a sidebar – animal trainers often use whips just for show, to point or feather the air. But sidebar #2 – did you know the chair you often see (saw) in the early three-ring circus is more effective than a long whip to keep a lion at bay? If a trainer approaches a lion with the 4 legs of the chair extended, it confuses the wild animal because it divides his focus, so he freezes. And sidebar #3 – Clyde Beatty, one of the first lion tamers to use the chair in the ring, lived into his 60’s at a time when most lion tamers didn’t fare so well. And sidebar #4 – see how easily I distracted you from the little French circus in wine country with a 4-legged chair? Ha! A trick I learned from my lion tamer.

The gift of fantasy has meant more to me than my talent for absorbing positive knowledge.
– Albert Einstein

Far from a three-ring circus, the Cirque de Bohème troupe of 8 artists display their acrobatic magic on a stage, flanked by ticking clocks against a brick wall. Under cover of darkness, projections in motion create illusions, as performers wing us through time, to strains of French music.

Did I tell you how Fleeky moves with balletic grace, slithering his limbs like a python, his blue hair swaying in sync with his seamless contortions. How he balances in precarious inversions with impish allure. Did I tell you how Naomi, a trapeze artist, hangs by the crook of her knee, the curl of her toes, the edge of a thigh as she swings through the air? Or how Colin revs his unicycle forwards and backwards on a tight rope, stalling and juggling? Did I mention how Amelia the Mime inhabits a King, revealing his greed? Or how square hoop aerialist Kirsten suspends from an arm, glides perched on her stomach, then masters the art of the Chinese pole?

Did I tell you how silk aerialist Abigail transforms the spirit of flight? Suspended from swaths of ivory cloth, she wraps and rolls, swings high and low – floats us by clouds, flies with the birds, swims with the fish and whirls in the sea. Atop a galloping a horse, she adds wings so he soars to the sky. Alongside the moon, she let’s go with one arm, then two – one foot, then another.

Over a giant roulette wheel clock with bright lights, off to the side, the clown’s creepier twin appears – in a grainy b/w film. Probing our memories, he stirs up our psyche. But if “despair is the constant companion of the clown,” (Angela Carter) then the life size puppet Hope enchants. “She is the one who brought back the life when life is gone. She is the one who transforms sad memories in nostalgia, and nostalgia to serenity. She has this rare power to change dreams to reality… She has grown up inside your soul… Don’t forget her name… Hope…” (Luna the French narrator)

Did I mention the Parisian curtain fell on the Cirque de Bohème, on Rue des Roses in the late 60s? When creators Armand Pascal and Gabriel Michelis died, the circus went dark. And time passed. Then 86 years after opening night in the heart of Montmartre, Michel Michelis (grandson of Armand and Gabriel) reignited their vision and raised the curtain of light in San Francisco. A man of eclectic skills, Michelis is a singer, songwriter, actor, director, scriptwriter, radio presenter, DJ and producer.

To write competently is to do a few magic tricks for friends and family; to write well is to run away and join the circus.
― Toby Litt

As for the high wire act of the holidays, I always look for distractions – to focus. With new fascination, I’m puzzling contortions. Watching Fleeky’s videos – studying his moves. I switch off the lights, flip them back on, and dim to a spot. I twist day into night and melt night into day. Practice inversions and stretch out my limbs. Turn up the music – try to untangle – let time stand still.

So if you don’t hear from me, I’ve run off to join the cirque. I’ve already darkened my brows, pulled back my hair and tinted it green, extended my lash line and outlined red lips. I’m perfecting my backbends and honing my focus. I’ll slip barefoot onto the highest of wires. It’s always a thrill. Maybe down the road, I’ll come back – tell you about that first lion tamer – or the next one – when I’m an aerialist swinging from silk.

As you whirl into the vortex of holiday frenzy, conjure the circus. Suspend disbelief – hang from your toes, twist through the air and hover above. With a rope of hope in each hand – focus your future!

Ah, circus for the soul. Skills for all seasons.

The present is the ever moving shadow that divides yesterday from tomorrow. In that lies hope.
– Frank Lloyd Wright