The smell of popcorn hangs in the air. A clown parachutes into the big top, turns a giant key et voilà: a new world is revealed, one populated by giant butterflies, hoop-jumping hummingbirds and a garden of real marigolds tended to by tin robots. Welcome to Cirque du Soleil’s vibrant new big-top show, Luzia.
The première of a Cirque du Soleil production here in Quebec is always cause for curiosity – after all, the show we see today is what the rest of the world will be seeing for (potentially) years to come.
Directed by Daniele Finzi Pasca, Luzia provides us with a glimpse into a dream-like Mexico that is simultaneously traditional and modern.
What impressed me most of all about Luzia was actually the design: the set, costumes and lighting provided a strong unifying force to the show (both thematically and visually). While there were nods to Day of the Dead and Mexican wrestling, the design thankfully steered clear of cliché, offering instead a rich visual language animated with animals, rain, movement and flowers.
From a performance perspective, there were several memorable highlights.
Shelli Epstein, as the emblematic Running Woman, was superb – strong, beautiful and in possession of buckets of stage presence.
The trapeze artist and Cyr Wheel performer both had flawless technique and the two disciplines worked well together onstage. A Cyr Wheel resembles a giant hula hoop and the performer holds its rim and propels it into motion, causing it to roll and spin gyroscopically. Performing on a Cyr Wheel and trapeze under a rain curtain seems an implausibly slippery feat, but I noticed they got around the traction issue by attaching a bicycle tire to the Cyr Wheel rim. Smart! The aesthetic of risk is a huge part of contemporary circus and its audience appeal, but you don’t want the implied danger of circus to become an actual one.
They bumped the risk level up another notch in the second half, wheeling out the more extreme tricks: the swing 360, the straps, a contortionist and the death-defying leaps of the Russian swing-to-swing troupe.
The aerial straps artist Benjamin Courtenay was a highlight (physique! artistry!), and the Russian contortionist Aleksei Goloborodko was very impressive, not least because we so rarely see male contortionists. The audience loved the luchador on the swing 360 – they whooped and gasped like children all around me.
The juggler and some of the hoops performers had a rough night technically, however it didn’t diminish the show overall and in some ways attested to the veracity of the stunts (and the fact that this is a newly minted production).
A word about the music: Luzia’s composer Simon Carpentier has written an excellent score with distinctive Latin American flavours: from the salsa-like rhythm of cumbia to huapango, a flamenco-based music style from the La Huasteca region. Singer Majo Cornejo is a near-constant presence throughout the show, and lends a finely-nuanced voice and personality to the mix.
Luzia was an absolute pleasure to watch – not just for the high-octane tricks but as a spectacular and cohesive theatrical experience that was successful on every level. If you’ve skipped seeing the Cirque for a few years, this is truly a show to bring you back into the fold. Bravo.
Decoding the Mexican mythology and motifs
Luzia audiences can expect to see a wealth of references to Mexico’s rich visual culture. Here are a few iconic motifs and mythological references to keep an eye out for:
THE DAY OF THE DEAD: The opening scene with 5,000 cempasúchil (the Mexican marigold) is a visual reference to the Day of the Dead, or Dia de Muertos, an important holiday in Mexico. Associated traditions include honouring the deceased with sugar skulls, marigolds and the favourite foods of the departed.
PAPEL PICADO: A Mexican decorative craft that involves cutting intricate designs in paper or silk. You’ll see this all over the big top, outside and in. Used for both secular and religious occasions, Papel Picado usually depicts birds, floral designs and skeletons.
THE GODS OF RAIN: Rain-calling rituals are everywhere in Mexican folklore, including one in which four boys croak like frogs in an appeal to Cháak, the Mayan god of rain. Watch as an enormous curtain of rain falls directly onto the stage.
HUMMINGBIRDS: In the Aztec psyche, the destination of a person’s soul depends on how they die. Those killed in battle got to travel for four years alongside the sun as it made its way across the heavens, after which time they would return as hummingbirds. In Luzia, the hoop divers become a flock of hummingbirds taking flight before the audience’s eyes.
BAHLAM, THE JAGUAR: Jaguar gods are prominent in Mayan and pre-Hispanic mythology. In Mesoamerica, the Olmec developed a half-man, half-jaguar motif seen in stylized sculptures and figurines.
LUCHA LIBRE: Mexican wrestling is characterized by colourful masks, rapid sequences of holds and high-flying maneuvers. In modern lucha libre, masks and capes are designed to evoke the images of animals, gods, ancient heroes – whose identity the luchador takes on during a performance.
{ SOURCE: The Montreal Gazette | http://goo.gl/nnbB8D }
