Quidam
Cirque du Soleil
Sydney until October 10, Brisbane from November 4, Melbourne from March 4, Adelaide from May 12 and Perth from June 30.
Another one of Cirque du Soleil's delightful displays of acrobatic virtuosity and human harmony has arrived in Australia — and its themes are true to the company's origins.
Cirque du Soleil, which unusually for a circus company uses no animals (but occasionally sends up the tradition), was founded in Quebec in 1984 by street performer Guy Laliberte. Since then, it has grown into a global phenomenon, with more than 600 artists and 2700 employees, touring nine different shows around the world in 2004.
Quidam was created in Montreal in 1996 and is Cirque du Soleil's third show to tour Australia. It follows the critically acclaimed seasons of Saltimbanco in 1999 and Alegria in 2001.
A loose narrative connects the 10 acts that make up Quidam — Latin for a lone figure, or the stranger in the street. We share a girl's discovery of the world of street people as she is transported away from stifling domestic conformity, exploring a tumbling, elegant, sensual celebration of the hidden talents of the oppressed.
Grey is the dominant costume colour, referencing the unsung workers and peasants of the world who perform amazing acts of dexterity and physical prowess in their daily lives.
The seamless flow and unity of people in action shines throughout Quidam, impressing upon us all the beauty and instinctive nature of human cooperation.
Tiny young Chinese girls send our spirits soaring as they toss their rapidly spinning spools ("diabolos") back and forth off a simple piece of string between two wooden sticks. Our senses are caressed as a figure writhes high above the stage, her feline form suspended in a column of rich red silk.
Even the most expensive digital special effects cannot reproduce the human grace and harmony seen here. And they probably never will. Our fellow circus-goers seemed to know this too, gasping in awe and shouting with delight, as if they themselves were among the children enjoying the intricately rhythmic skipping rope act.
Quidam cleverly contrasts its seemingly unscripted displays of virtuous human cooperation with a mock-up movie set in the middle of the show. The long-suffering director is cast as a slapstick clown, exasperated at the seeming inability of actors to bend to his will in a simple melodrama.
Eventually the young girl ends her odyssey and for a moment seems to be awakening to the same blandness and conformity from whence she came. But Quidam's finale doesn't betray its overall theme, affirming that the street people's vitality, movement and colour flashes are a part of all of us.
Every single performer in this part gymnastics, part circus, part dance, part narrative, is a virtuoso. Together, they generate a delightful spectacle, making this a top-notch act even without its progressive, humanist themes.
But not everything about Cirque du Soleil fits its fairyland aura.
Last year a gay American gymnast, Matthew Cusick, was fired by the circus immediately before the opening of Mystere in the USA. The company cited his HIV-positive status as a "known safety hazard", even though doctors had cleared Cusick to perform in the show.
A public protest campaign and an anti-discrimination legal case resulted in a $600,000 compensation pay-out and implementation of internal anti-discrimination policies by Cirque du Soleil.
One aspect of Quidam that also isn't faithful to the origins of Cirque du Soleil is its steep ticket prices. An adult can expect to pay between $59 and $220 for a ticket, making the Grand Chapiteau a playground mostly populated by the rich.
From 91×ÔÅÄÂÛ̳ Weekly, September 1, 2004.
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