Barbette's Skeleton (Part IV): What's the Pleasure? (Patreon)

Good now*, my strange & wonderful patrons!

(*I did an interview last year with a Motherland: Fort Salem Dischord server and this was their greeting, since the server had folks tuning in from a half dozen different time zones. I thought it was pretty cute, so I'm adopting it)

The Barbette's Skeleton series continues!  If you're just joining us, this is an ongoing series where I'm excitedly catching you all up on the work I've been doing in-studio all this past summer with the goal of:

(a) creating a rough draft of my act by Fall (check!); and

(b) [over the coming months -- like 6 to 8 months] Develop the act into a polished jewel of gender-bending contemporary circus that (I hope, I dream) could be presented at Cirque de Demain (aiming for the 2024 Festival).

You can find Part I, Part II, and Part III through those links if you need to catch up.

Before we take a closer look at the narrative that I developed as the foundation for this act, let's look at what circus does well and ... what it doesn't do so well.

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Not all circus acts need to tell a story; and I'd even argue that (without props, sceneography, or possibly an audio accompaniment that includes text) telling a story with circus as a solo artist is ... challenging!

Circus does many things, but effectively conveying (i) complex concepts and/or (ii) specific stories is ... tricky – both for the performer as well as the audience:

For the performer, so much bandwidth is eaten up by the extreme physicality required to execute tricks and movements that dazzle and delight the viewer that it is very hard to put much else into the work. 

Many argue (contentious, but ... we'll talk about this another time) that it is the combination of risk with artistry that makes circus ... well, circus. If you're focusing on a high level trick that requires a great degree of precision and explosivity in order to satisfy that 'risk' factor within a circus act, are you really thinking about being in character? 

Yeah. Not so easy! (I used to joke that stunt guys can do two emotions really effectively, and nothing beyond that: absolute terror, or incandescent rage. Same logic as the above paragraph applies here 😆)

In many acts that we can watch at big festivals or with big companies, the risk (technical skill, shock factor, etc) is prioritized over elements of artistry that go beyond moving beautifully. 

And that's not to say that these artists and their acts don't have a high level of artistry or performance happening! To the contrary! BUT, I think there's a limit to what the audience can make sense of, in real-time, while taking in all the audio-visual stimuli that a circus act creates. Our brains have a saturation point. 

Without the "help" of text (I mean, someone speaking on stage, or the audio accompaniment of the act literally involving telling a story), there's a limit to what a circus-viewing audience can interpret: they're occupied with the shock and tension that comes with viewing spectacle and risk; their brains are background-processing the kind of music they're hearing, what the acrobat in front of them looks like, whether the movements being performed in front of them are happening in an order that is captivating (happening in an unexpected order, perhaps) or a bit boring (the audience feels they can predict what the performer is going to do next); etc.

Broad, universal concepts that we can all relate to (e.g. falling in love, fighting and resolving conflict, striving to reach a goal) do well, and we see these types of narratives on circus stages often. Even broader concepts –singular emotions (e.g. joy, grief, triumph, desire)– also do well. 

These examples all provide enough of a narrative vehicle for the audience to feel like they're watching more than a gymnast doing a bunch of tricks for them, but aren't so distracting that the audience is thinking, "Well why did they do that?" or is confused about what the artist is trying to share. 

I think these are some of the reasons why this cyr wheel act by Angela Bongiovonni makes me cry almost every time I watch it, compared to when I watch this cyr wheel act by Matthew Richardson (which I deeply enjoy, to be clear – but with dry eyes). 

Richardson's technicality and physicality feel like the two main pillars that makes his act the fantastic creation that it is. His innovation in translating his cyr wheel to being an aerial apparatus for the opening of the act, the high level of technique he performs on, in, and around the apparatus, his beautiful dancing, flexibility, and the aesthetic of his physicality itself are all captivating and make the act highly effective. 

But Bongiovonni's act makes me feel like she's telling me a story: after the act is done, it feels like we've watched her (as performer, as a character) go through some kind of catharsis. Like Richardson, she's displaying a high level of technical proficiency for her discipline, along with beautiful dancing, flexibility, spatial awareness, control, and precision. But Bongiovonni's act feels like watching someone go on an emotional journey, and she's allowed us to witness it. The simplicity and everyday-familiarity of her red dress, her choice of music, the way her interaction with the cyr wheel makes it feel like we're watching a duo instead of a solo, all heighten the emotional experience of watching this performance.

More importantly, Bongiovonni's 'character' (well, it's ... herself. I guess that makes it ... auto-character?) is just specific enough that we as viewers get that delicious sense of nuance without bogging us down in the details.

When I watch Richardson's act, I feel like as the audience member I am being given the gift of 'the pleasure of viewing'. 

When I watch Bongiovonni's act, I feel like I am being given the gift of 'the pleasure of feeling'.  

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I'll leave things on that thoughtful note for today.

Your next instalment will be landing in your inboxes on Monday October 10th, 11:30am EST ... !

I'm taking a stab at (oooh, big scary word) dramaturgy in relation to circus acts next, and then it'll be time to actually show you the framework (the story) I've been using to help pull together the rough draft of aerial straps LE NUMÉRO BARBETTE. 

Have a strange and wonderful weekend!
XO - Ess