The idea of Cirque du Soleil rose out of the work of a group of Quebec street performers who dreamed of creating a new kind of circus to entertain audiences around the world with shows that demonstrated all the strength, flexibility, daring and humor of which human beings are capable.
“Varekai,” which premiered in 2002, is the 13th show Cirque du Soleil has created and the fifth to come to Tulsa.
Inspired by the Greek myth of Icarus, “Varekai” is the story of a young man who plummets to earth, landing in a forest filled with strange creatures that soar through the air, skate across the ground, dance and tumble about with abandon — and even indulge in acts of pure silliness.
Here’s a glimpse into the lives and activities of some of the people who make the world of “Varekai” come to life.
THE CLOWN
It was supposed to be a two-year adventure — setting aside the dentist’s drill to run off and join the circus.
That was 10 years ago. For the past decade, Steven Bishop has been the principal clown for Cirque du Soleil’s “Varekai.”
Given that this Canadian-born enterprise has as its unofficial credo “We Reinvent the Circus,” the role of clown in a Cirque du Soleil production does not involve baggy clothes, red noses and jars of white face paint.
In fact, in the world of “Varekai,” Bishop and his partner in mischief, Emily Carragher, wear the least amount of makeup of any of the performers.
“We’re sort of the contrast to the rest of the show,” Bishop said.
“Varekai” — which means “whatever” in the Romany language — is a fantasia inspired by the Greek myth of Icarus, whose wings of wax and feathers melted when he flew too near the sun.
In the Cirque du Soleil telling of this story, Icarus falls not to his death in the seas but into the midst of a strange and magical forest, populated by an array of unusual beings capable of doing extraordinary things.
In between the feats of strength, balance and flexibility, along with all manner of aerial acrobatics by performers in elaborate and slinky costumes, Bishop and Carragher will emerge to toy with audience members, attempt one of the spectacularly unsuccessful magic acts to disgrace the stage, and chase after a moment in the spotlight to croon the Jacques Brel ballad “Ne me quitte pas.”
Bishop is a qualified dental surgeon in his native Australia, “but I was always interested in creative things, especially when I could engage my entire body in the process. And if I could make people laugh, so much the better.”
He studied theater at the Ecole Jacques Lecoq in Paris and worked with an English-speaking theater company in France. While still practicing dentistry, Bishop was also performing, everything from mime and escapology to stunt work in films like the live-action “Scooby-Doo.”
When he landed the role in “Varekai,” Bishop said: “I know that this was where I wanted to put my artistic life. I’d reached the point in my life where I was only going to do things I was interested in and passionate about, and that would help me evolve as a performer and a person.”
Bishop started in “Varekai” in 2004, two years after the show had been created. At that time, the show toured as a “Grand Chapiteau,” or big-top tent production, which would remain several weeks at one locale.
So Bishop decided to bring his wife and four children along with him.
“I said it would be a two-year thing,” Bishop said, laughing. “We’ll keep the dentist chair, just in case, you know. But Cirque du Soleil allowed me to support my family while continuing to perform.”
When “Varekai” was converted into an arena show (the production that comes to the BOK Center this week), the stresses of weekly touring made Bishop’s family arrangements unworkable. Bishop’s wife and children moved back to Australia while he continues with the show.
The set pieces Bishop does in the show have been a part of “Varekai” from the beginnin
g, but he’s been able to develop them in personal ways.
But the most important element of the show for Bishop is what is called the “animation,” when the two clowns come out prior to the start of the show to interact with the audience.
“For a clown, that connection with the audience is imperative,” he said. “That’s why the animation is so important because it’s a way to make that connection instantly. That way, when you finally show up in the context of the show, the audience knows who you are and what they’re in for.”
Bishop even relishes the process of doing the same thing night after night, show after show, in a way that is philosophical.
“No other company can offer you the chance to develop and present your art the way Cirque du Soleil does,” he said. “The number of shows that you do — it’s almost like ‘Zen and the Art of Archery,’ doing that one thing over and over until you get a sense of understanding that is beyond thought or learning.”
He paused, then added, “And you get to make people laugh.”
THE ARTISTIC DIRECTOR
“Varekai” began, as did many of the shows created by Cirque du Soleil, in a tent.
The Montreal, Quebec-based company would set up a large, big top-style tent, capable of seating about 2,500 people, and present its shows within its canvas confines. The company would remain in one locale for several weeks at a time before striking tents and moving on.
Cirque du Soleil continues to perform under the big top — five shows, including the newest, “Kurios: Cabinet of Curiosities,” are currently touring in this fashion. It also has what it calls “resident shows,” including eight in Las Vegas.
Recently, Cirque du Soleil began converting some of its longest running shows to be presented in arenas, the latest of which is “Varekai,” opening Wednesday at the BOK Center.
And these conversations, said the show’s artistic director Fabrice Lemire, “is like creating a completely new show from the ground up. Every aspect of the show has to be redesigned — the set, to begin with.”
One of the main elements of the “Varekai” set is an enormous catwalk, which looks to be constructed of sticks and branches, that rises from the rear of the stage and extends over it.
“We are in a different space every week, and each space is different,” said Lemire, who has been overseeing “Varekai” for three years. “To accommodate that, we have two different heights for the catwalk — both of which are higher than the catwalk we used in the big top.
“So that means we have to rework the music because the performers need a little more to move along the catwalk,” he said. “That requires redesigning the lighting plan, everything. Because the show is 12 years old, we also had to adapt it to the changes in sound technology that are now standard. It was a huge challenge.”
Lemire began his tenure on “Varekai” right around the time the show was beginning to be transferred to arenas. He began his career with the company in 2008 as dance master for “Zaia,” a resident show in Macau, then became artistic director of “Quidam” until taking over “Varekai.”
Prior to joining Cirque du Soleil, Lemire spent some 20 years as a dancer, choreographer and ballet master, working with such companies as Oregon Ballet and New York City Opera.
“I wanted to try the other side, not be the one on stage, but share ideas so people could perhaps make better use of their talents,” he said.
“Varekai” is one of the more narrative-driven shows in the Cirque du Soleil repertoire, with many of the dazzling acrobatic acts having some bearing on the story.
“We have a new performer in the cast, who is taking over the male lead,” Lemire said. “He comes from a strong dance background, and it’s taking me a lot of work to get him out of his comfort zone, to get him to express something different, something more emotional.”
THE ACTOR
The principal emotion that Rodrigue Proteau has to express in his role as The Guide in “Varekai” is one that he finds difficult to summon outside of the theater. “I was told at the start my character is grumpy,” Proteau said. “And that’s just not something within me. I really have to work at that.”
Proteau’s face as he said this told a slightly different story — only because his face was already adorned with the multicolored makeup he wears for the role. The makeup gives him a slightly ferocious look quite at odds with his soft, understated speaking voice.
The Guide is described as “a wise old man whose mission is to inspire and bring about change” — in the case of “Varekai,” that involves guiding the fallen Icarus to an acceptance of what is now his new home.
Proteau was a member of the original cast of “Varekai” and had some input into the creation of the character he plays.
“I was working as a physical actor — I did dance theater, movies, stuff like that,” the Quebec native said. “Cirque du Soleil came to me, wanting me to take over a part in ‘Saltimbanco.’ But I wasn’t comfortable with that. “Then, Dominic Champagne (the writer and director of “Varekai”) got in touch with me, saying he was creating this new show and wanted me to be a part of it,” Proteau said.
Originally, The Guide was going to be as much puppet as actor.
“They started out with this head piece and kept adding things, making it more and more elaborate,” Proteau said, smiling. “Then, a week before the show was to open, the head of Cirque du Soleil came in, took one look at what I was wearing, and said, ‘Cut that!’?”
Proteau came up with an alternate headpiece for his character — a helmet with a large light bulb on top.
“My original thought was it was something that would plug into the wall,” he said, chuckling. “But the technical people just kind of looked at it and shook their heads and said, ‘That would be pretty dangerous, Rod.’ So they came up with something with batteries.”
The Guide and his cheerful nemesis, a wild character called the Skywatcher, carry on conversations in a made-up language.
“The dialogue is all improvised — exactly what we say changes, although the import, the emotions are the same,” Proteau said. “I will toss in words and phrases from Spanish, Italian, Portuguese. We also try to work in some of the slang of a region, if possible.
“And since we are part of the story, and don’t have a great deal of time on stage,” he said, “we have to be very precise. We have to be sure people know exactly what we mean, even though they can’t understand what we say.”
{ SOURCE: Tulsa World | http://goo.gl/ljsmL7 }
