The grey, robotic, seemingly mechanical routines of office workers and the metropolis they inhabit have probably been represented physically by just about every performing arts group or class at some time or other. But that’s just the starting point – the leaping-off place; the springboard – for Cirque Éloize’s astonishing display of acrobatics and other circus arts.

Montreal-based Cirque Éloize describe themselves as “a driving force in the circus art reinvention movement” and they’ve been around for 25 years, touring far and wide. Their most recent visit was to this year’s Auckland Arts Festival with iD and I first reviewed them (for the NBR) when their Excentricus enlivened Wellington’s St James Theatre in 2001.  

Then, the ten performers were individualised with clownish characteristics which, along with a sense of evolving narrative, rendered their trapeze, balancing, bicycle, unicycle, ladder, wheel rope and juggling routines interesting and even insightful as well as amazing.

Here, in Cirkopolis – against a large AV screen variously depicting the mechanical metropolis (imagery by Robert Massicotte and Alexis Laurence) – the twelve performers take the stage as a regimented grey mass and huge stacks of white paper symbolise the workload. Individuality comes with breakaway dexterity and flashes of colour as someone dances or displays great skill with the cyr wheel (single hoop), German hoop (double hoop), trapeze, rope, Chinese pole, diabolo and perform feats of contortion. In groups or en masse they leap, flip, fly, balance (hand-to-hand, on shoulders, on heads …) and juggle with such élan you have to think it through to realise how much skill, practice, commitment and focus goes into making it seems so effortless.

There is one low-key clown character (Ashley Carr) who, having laboured at the endless piles of paper landing on his desk, forms a poignant relationship with a lone frock and scarf hanging on a coat rack: one of co-directors Jeannot Painchaud and Dave St-Pierre’s devices for modulating the pace of the show. Chorographer St-Pierre is similarly astute with the dance sequences. Krzysztof Soroczynski is credited with the Acrobatic Designs and these are the most dynamic and mind-boggling elements.

Rose Hendry is mesmerising on the cyr wheel and is joined on the trapeze by Selene Ballesteros-Mingüer and Pauline Baud-Guillard to create lyrically sculptural postures: aerial yoga, you might call it. Eight people – Aaron Dewitt, Colin André-Heriaud, Jérémy Vitupier, Antonin Wicky, Frédéric Lemieux-Cormier, Jonathan Julien, Pauline Baud-Guillard and Arata Urawa – are credited (in the printout I requested, given the absence of a programme) for the German wheel routines. I’m not sure we see them all on it this night but those we do see are a thrill to watch.

The most heart-in-the-mouth moments come with Alexie Maheu-Langevin and Antonin Wicky on the Chinese pole, and Arata Urawa’s prowess with the diabolo is awe-inspiring.

It’s probably not a surprise that everything resolves in liberatingly festive chaos and colour – and that, too, is a feast for the eyes.

Everyone in our group, from five year-olds through teenagers to us baby-boomers, is riveted for the full 80 minutes, and the vocal chorus of circus aficionados attest to the excellence of Cirkopolis. 

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This is Cirque du Soleil’s younger sibling, a production of a more manageable size in terms of performers and touring requirements, able to be presented at smaller venues.  

What it lacks in size, however, it more than makes up for in energy. Though the pace varies from frenetic to lyrical, there is seldom a moment of complete quiet. Only in Nora Zoller’s subtly danced Cyr Wheel act, where the Wheel enters on its own, circling patiently, waiting for the performer, is there a sense of calm. At all other times, members of the cast are supporting, distracting, dancing, clowning around the main artist. 

There are twelve performers (eight men and four women) and all of them appear in supporting roles throughout, some brief, some part and parcel of the specialty act. They may be on the fringe, appearing to be uninvolved, or they may provide a humorous counterpoint to the dangerous performance at the centre. They bring something of the Ringmaster of old to some scenes (usually as a group), or that special element of the Clown who seems to be doing his own thing but is vital to the overall presentation.

There’s no story as such: the theme is the office worker bowed down by never-ending streams of paper and finally breaking out at the end. To enhance this we have a huge video back projection where enormous cogs appear to suck us right into themselves, or, as in Selene Ballesteros-Minguer’s Rope act, lift us gradually from the deepest basement up and up beyond the highest skyscrapers, only to plummet us back again as the act comes to its end.

And talking about plummeting, Antonin Wicky and Alexie Maheu do a death-defying act on a pole. Several times they stick straight out from it, appearing to hang by little more than a finger. More than once they drop headfirst, stopping mere centimetres from the floor. And of course, while they’re doing this, several other cast members are clowning around as though nothing of great importance is going on.

Whatever their particular talent, the cast act as a team. In the Passing sequence (where at least eight performers juggle a minimum of three clubs each) the group dance and sail around on office chairs and on the office table, all the while sending the clubs flying back and forth across the stage –seldom to the same person twice. It’s hilarious ballet and circus combined.

In the German Wheel act – this is the great metal double wheel – half a dozen of the men are involved. Though Frédéric Lemieux-Cormier is the focal point, using great strength to spin the double wheel with himself inside and outside it, all the men perform in and on the wheel at some point.

Pauline Baud-Guillard performs the Banquine with half a dozen men. This involves appearing to walk around in mid-air by standing on the men’s hands, shoulders or heads. Heads are often used for standing on during the show.

Three of the women are marvellous contortionists and even encourage the clown (Ashley Carr) to get involved – to his physical detriment. Carr wanders through the show connecting scenes, as well as performing a delightful ‘love’ scene with a dress hung on a coat rail. The coat rail also becomes a prop for him to do various acrobatics on. None of the cast ear mircrophones, and few speak, but Carr mutters and natters. You catch enough what he’s saying for it to add on to his visual clowning, but it’s not necessary to hear it.

There are few props: an office desk on castors is used in every way possible; a lamp and a bell and a rubbish bin accompany it. A chest of drawers appears towards the end, but mostly only so that one of the men can jump off it onto the teeterboard. Office chairs on castors float in and out apparently of their own accord, and land precisely where someone is about to sit down. And paper, loads of it, plays a big part.

So fluid is the production that you barely notice the pole or the trapeze being assembled and disassembled, though it takes place in front of you. Sometimes in fact, there’s so much going on that you become distracted from what the specialty artist is doing. But this is hardly a criticism.

As in Cirque du Soleil’s productions, music plays a huge part, and frequently the subtlest of musical moments echo onstage movements. The colour palette of the costuming is quite narrow initially, with greys and light browns and muted blues for much of the first half; some of the women’s dresses are more striking, and some of the men’s ties have brighter hues.

Go and see this if you can. I’d go again tomorrow! 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

The cast of Cirkopolis is sensational.  They bring an effortless grace and sense of fun to this spell-binding piece of theatre that easily lives up to the company’s statement to express “its innovative nature through theatricality and humanity . . .”

These are truly relatable characters: remarkable given these are twelve acrobats, contortionists and clowns who are highly trained specialist circus performers (most in multiple disciplines).  The way these artists interact is a large part of what makes the show so enjoyable. In the closing stages of a world tour, the acts are polished and assured, though the overall execution maintains an attractive rawness and grit. The individual tricks are predominantly perfectly honed, with any minor fumbles or missteps seamlessly recovered from or even celebrated as they are woven into the magic of the energetic delivery. There is a sense of fun and remarkable freshness that delights the audience.  The boisterous enjoyment of this company is infectious.

The show’s first half is particularly successful, with highlights almost too numerous to mention.  The pre-show soundtrack builds as two characters roving through the seated audience draws attention back to the stage.  Jérémy Vitupier and Antonin Wicky clown their way through the recorded announcement, turning as the curtain rises and taking us straight into the fast-paced action of the first scene.  Set in a surrealist office, this is so much more than a duo Hand-to-Hand act, though the assurance of the dance and tricks by Colin André-Hériaud and Aaron Dewitt could easily stand alone. We see the full company and all the themes of the show are laid out before us. Props, staging, film, costume, and soundtrack are all masterfully utilised to reinforce the storytelling of the performers.  The full company excels as dancers, with fast-paced choreography merging into circus tricks seamlessly.

A fluid and beautiful solo Cyr Wheel performance follows, perfectly costumed in flowing red. The ease and innocence of delivery mask the strength and control actually on display here, and the change of pace is calming and satisfying. 

Eight of the cast enthusiastically participate in the Passing (juggling or Jonglerie), before six members of the cast master the German Wheel.  While some are clearly masters of this apparatus, all take the opportunity to add to the drama, wonder and spectacle of the act.   

I am not always a fan of contortion, yet it is a mark of the skill with which Cirkopolis has been crafted that its inclusion here is a standout.  Supported by male colleagues and perfect in purple, Alexie Maheu is exquisite and fragile: totally human as she moves and is moved across the stage in such surprising ways. The fluid dance of the men beneath complements and accentuates the extreme yet natural use of her amazing body.

Interval is bookended by two superb pieces of clown artistry by Ashley Carr. He utilizes costume as props and a clothing rack to beautiful and poignant effect.  While the second half of the show is more traditional circus in many respects, its literal elevation by the introduction of aerial acts keeps the audience engaged. 

The use of the company to embellish key aspects of each act highlights the humanity of the overall performance.  The Chinese Pole act is particularly memorable for the virtuosity of the two main performers, Alexie Naheu and Antonin Wicky.  Truly breath-taking.  Road-Cone-heads strike a warm note with the Christchurch Audience, somewhat upstaging the command of the Diabolo unfolding downstage.

The show concludes all too soon with the ensemble back in the office, this time displaying acrobatic mastery of Banquine and Teeterboard.  All the characters take their moment to shine before leaving an enthusiastic audience wanting more.  If at all possible, see this show!

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer

The cast of Cirkopolis is sensational.  They bring an effortless grace and sense of fun to this spell-binding piece of theatre that easily lives up to the company’s statement to express “its innovative nature through theatricality and humanity . . .”

These are truly relatable characters: remarkable given these are twelve acrobats, contortionists and clowns who are highly trained specialist circus performers (most in multiple disciplines).  The way these artists interact is a large part of what makes the show so enjoyable. In the closing stages of a world tour, the acts are polished and assured, though the overall execution maintains an attractive rawness and grit. The individual tricks are predominantly perfectly honed, with any minor fumbles or missteps seamlessly recovered from or even celebrated as they are woven into the magic of the energetic delivery. There is a sense of fun and remarkable freshness that delights the audience.  The boisterous enjoyment of this company is infectious.

The show’s first half is particularly successful, with highlights almost too numerous to mention.  The pre-show soundtrack builds as two characters roving through the seated audience draws attention back to the stage.  Jérémy Vitupier and Antonin Wicky clown their way through the recorded announcement, turning as the curtain rises and taking us straight into the fast-paced action of the first scene.  Set in a surrealist office, this is so much more than a duo Hand-to-Hand act, though the assurance of the dance and tricks by Colin André-Hériaud and Aaron Dewitt could easily stand alone. We see the full company and all the themes of the show are laid out before us. Props, staging, film, costume, and soundtrack are all masterfully utilised to reinforce the storytelling of the performers.  The full company excels as dancers, with fast-paced choreography merging into circus tricks seamlessly.

A fluid and beautiful solo Cyr Wheel performance follows, perfectly costumed in flowing red. The ease and innocence of delivery mask the strength and control actually on display here, and the change of pace is calming and satisfying. 

Eight of the cast enthusiastically participate in the Passing (juggling or Jonglerie), before six members of the cast master the German Wheel.  While some are clearly masters of this apparatus, all take the opportunity to add to the drama, wonder and spectacle of the act.   

I am not always a fan of contortion, yet it is a mark of the skill with which Cirkopolis has been crafted that its inclusion here is a standout.  Supported by male colleagues and perfect in purple, Alexie Maheu is exquisite and fragile: totally human as she moves and is moved across the stage in such surprising ways. The fluid dance of the men beneath complements and accentuates the extreme yet natural use of her amazing body.

Interval is bookended by two superb pieces of clown artistry by Ashley Carr. He utilizes costume as props and a clothing rack to beautiful and poignant effect.  While the second half of the show is more traditional circus in many respects, its literal elevation by the introduction of aerial acts keeps the audience engaged. 

The use of the company to embellish key aspects of each act highlights the humanity of the overall performance.  The Chinese Pole act is particularly memorable for the virtuosity of the two main performers, Alexie Naheu and Antonin Wicky.  Truly breath-taking.  Road-Cone-heads strike a warm note with the Christchurch Audience, somewhat upstaging the command of the Diabolo unfolding downstage.

The show concludes all too soon with the ensemble back in the office, this time displaying acrobatic mastery of Banquine and Teeterboard.  All the characters take their moment to shine before leaving an enthusiastic audience wanting more.  If at all possible, see this show!

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer