The word Varekai means "wherever" in Romany, the language of the gypsies, the universal wanderers. This production [of Cirque du Soleil’s Varekai] pays tribute to the nomadic soul, to the spirit and art of the circus tradition, and to the infinite passion of those whose quest takes them along the path that leads to Varekai.
~Cirque du Soleil
~Cirque du Soleil
Rain was threatening as I hurried up the stairs to the arena for my first ever in-person taste of Cirque du Soleil. The weather didn’t matter, I was eager to bask in the glow of a live circus performance. Leslie, my best friend since middle school, hurried alongside me—yet another person who has been sucked into my obsession.
She had in tow a very enthusiastic walking encyclopedia of Cirque du Soleil facts. Thanks to the internet and my passion for research, I brought with me to my first performance a wealth of background information, trivia, and anticipation—all of which spilled into a running narration for the sake of my (luckily) interested friend.
In mythology, Icarus was an over-confident youth who flew too close to the sun. Pride goes before the fall—in this case literally. His father, Daedalus, looked on in horror as the wings of wax and feathers he had made for his son disintegrated and the boy fell from the sky—presumably to his death. I object to unhappy endings, so I was very willing to let Cirque du Soleil rewrite this one.
After the pre-show clowning, the show picks up the thread of the tale where Daedalus ended it: with Icarus falling. Dressed all in white, Icarus fights his descent in artistic slow motion with graceful flailing of feet and waving of long feathered wings.
On the ground the unconscious youth is soon surrounded by the wary natives of Varekai. He regains consciousness to find that he has gone from the freedom of flight and the fright of falling to the imprisonment of a hoisted net.
For me the show really got underway with “The Flight of Icarus.” Against the darkened backdrop of the primordial bamboo forests of Varekai, white-clad Icarus uses his captivity for an impressive range of aerial maneuvers: from contortion within the tangled weave of the net, to sitting and twirling around the net like a cloud swing, and finally, with the net hung only at one corner, wraps and big drops like aerial silk.
When Icarus is finally released from the net, it becomes evident that his fall has crippled him more than his aerial convolutions would suggest. He whose fable is considered a warning against hubris—excessive pride and self-confidence—has been thoroughly humbled by his fall.
No traditional rings confine the acts of Varekai. Cirque Nouveau, or “contemporary” circus style, incorporates theatrical elements of staging, costuming, special musical scores, acting and dance. The loose storyline following the journey of Icarus is a hallmark of the style.
Two trademarks unique to Cirque du Soleil’s brand of contemporary circus are fantastical costumes and, even in a more limited traveling show like this one, innovative and expansive staging and rigging. Even set changes can be impressively innovative, often incorporated into the acts themselves.
The “Slippery Surface” contortion and acrobatics act was one of my favorites and easily highlights these two trademarks. Set in a sort of water world, a slick blue surface is stretched across the stage making it look like a pond. Clad in brightly colored, undulating scale-textured body suits, the performers slide and spin back and forth in contortions more reminiscent of aquatic invertebrates than solid-boned humans. When the slipping and sliding is done, a hole in the middle of the stage underneath the pond surface opens up and the character of Icarus falls down through it—taking the sliding surface with him as if down a swirling drain.
As in the slippery surface act, Icarus reappears through the acts, sometimes as a spectator passing along the sidelines, sometimes interacting with the (mostly) hostile natives, still crippled, at first only able to drag himself out of harm’s way. Of the whole show, it is that humbling that most tugged at my heartstrings. I was unsettled by the poignant figure of Icarus crawling and later limping, brokenly, through the magical new world he’d fallen into.
On his journey of healing, Icarus encounters a character who can teach the boy much about the art of (not) being crippled. Blending dance and acrobatics, the “Limping Angel” turns a symbol of hurt and brokenness into an art form and empowerment as he dances, glides, and spins on the crutches that have become additions to and replacements for his feet. Using his crutches, however, to trip and flip the still crippled boy didn’t strike me as particularly angelic.
By the time the show is done, Varekai provides stellar examples of four of the six1 circus disciplines: acrobatics, clowning, aerials, and manipulation.
No matter the type of performance, Varekai is a riot of color. Tumblers dressed in yellow and red jump, twist and flip in perfect synchronization on an inflated mat that glows with each footfall. A duo aerial straps act sends warriors in black headdresses arcing out over the audience—then, somehow they meet again in the middle, creating mirrored, entwined figures, before flying apart once again. A juggler, green from head to toe, sets batons spinning through the air, manipulating the seemingly simple objects into gravity defying blurs. Two radically different sets of clowns provide colorful recurring comic relief from the more war-like creatures that inhabit the wilds of Varekai.
Not quite all the natives are hostile. As Icarus slowly regains the use of his legs, a character identified only as “The Betrothed” experiences a metamorphosis of her own—from the exotic yellow raptor-like creature who initially captures his interest to a white princess, his match and his equal.
After dizzying and colorful spectaculars, an erect and confident—though no longer arrogant—youth and his fully human girl glide onto the stage hand in hand. The celebration of their betrothal—and the finale of the show—is a Russian swing performance…a double Russian swing.
Russian swings are suspended with steel bars instead of ropes. The long swing platform can rotate 360 degrees and is long enough to accommodate two and even three standing acrobats. It is used to throw an acrobat high into the air and away from the swing—room for aerial flips, turns and twists.
For the landings, what had been two hanging projection screens are attached to the base of a 5-foot high platform, becoming the safety nets. The acrobats, launched off the front of their swing, land into the sheets or onto the platform…sometimes even onto the shoulders of partners standing on the platform.
In the finale of the already impressive finale, the two Russian swings are turned to face each other and the acrobats fly from one swing to land on the upturned edge of the other swing.
This was the first live circus performance I’ve been to in ages, and, speaking for myself, it did not disappoint. I have to admit, I attended more in the spirit of an aspiring student than a spectator, more as a technician than an artist. I was analyzing the movement, the rigging, and admiring the proficiency and technical perfection of the professional performers.
Besides the story of Icarus’s humbling and slow recovery, the title and theme of the show also struck a chord with me: I don’t really know where my passion for balance is taking me—it is certainly leading me to “varekai.” But “wherever” isn’t indicative of ambivalence or apathy; no matter what meandering path I pursue, I take my passion and sense of wonder with me.
Cirque du Soleil has a trailer for Varekai here if you’d like a glimpse of the show. And if you ever get a chance to go, I’d recommend it.
1 I would love to go more in depth into the topic of the circus disciplines, but that will have to wait for another day. For an excellent overview, please see Circus Arts 102 by Street Saint. Besides animal acts, which are often omitted in contemporary circus, the other discipline not included in the current version of Varekai is equilibristics—no balancing performances for me, unfortunately.
She had in tow a very enthusiastic walking encyclopedia of Cirque du Soleil facts. Thanks to the internet and my passion for research, I brought with me to my first performance a wealth of background information, trivia, and anticipation—all of which spilled into a running narration for the sake of my (luckily) interested friend.
Hey Leslie, did you read the show description already? Varekai tells the story of the Greek mythology character Icarus—after he falls from the sky.
In mythology, Icarus was an over-confident youth who flew too close to the sun. Pride goes before the fall—in this case literally. His father, Daedalus, looked on in horror as the wings of wax and feathers he had made for his son disintegrated and the boy fell from the sky—presumably to his death. I object to unhappy endings, so I was very willing to let Cirque du Soleil rewrite this one.
After the pre-show clowning, the show picks up the thread of the tale where Daedalus ended it: with Icarus falling. Dressed all in white, Icarus fights his descent in artistic slow motion with graceful flailing of feet and waving of long feathered wings.
 |
| Source: Velveteen Mind |
On the ground the unconscious youth is soon surrounded by the wary natives of Varekai. He regains consciousness to find that he has gone from the freedom of flight and the fright of falling to the imprisonment of a hoisted net.
Icarus is using the net like straps, cloud swing and aerial silk. Very cool combining so many different traditional circus skills in one act like that.
 |
| Source: Rodrigo Sologuren via Twitter |
When Icarus is finally released from the net, it becomes evident that his fall has crippled him more than his aerial convolutions would suggest. He whose fable is considered a warning against hubris—excessive pride and self-confidence—has been thoroughly humbled by his fall.
“Cirque du Soleil is part of the “new” style of circus. It’s like if Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey is the tap or ballroom of circus, then Cirque du Soleil is the modern dance.”
No traditional rings confine the acts of Varekai. Cirque Nouveau, or “contemporary” circus style, incorporates theatrical elements of staging, costuming, special musical scores, acting and dance. The loose storyline following the journey of Icarus is a hallmark of the style.
Two trademarks unique to Cirque du Soleil’s brand of contemporary circus are fantastical costumes and, even in a more limited traveling show like this one, innovative and expansive staging and rigging. Even set changes can be impressively innovative, often incorporated into the acts themselves.
The “Slippery Surface” contortion and acrobatics act was one of my favorites and easily highlights these two trademarks. Set in a sort of water world, a slick blue surface is stretched across the stage making it look like a pond. Clad in brightly colored, undulating scale-textured body suits, the performers slide and spin back and forth in contortions more reminiscent of aquatic invertebrates than solid-boned humans. When the slipping and sliding is done, a hole in the middle of the stage underneath the pond surface opens up and the character of Icarus falls down through it—taking the sliding surface with him as if down a swirling drain.
 |
| Photo by:Luna Markman, Source: G1.Globo.com |
Some of the performers for the “Solo on Crutches” have actually had physical disabilities, one was a victim of childhood polio.
As in the slippery surface act, Icarus reappears through the acts, sometimes as a spectator passing along the sidelines, sometimes interacting with the (mostly) hostile natives, still crippled, at first only able to drag himself out of harm’s way. Of the whole show, it is that humbling that most tugged at my heartstrings. I was unsettled by the poignant figure of Icarus crawling and later limping, brokenly, through the magical new world he’d fallen into.
On his journey of healing, Icarus encounters a character who can teach the boy much about the art of (not) being crippled. Blending dance and acrobatics, the “Limping Angel” turns a symbol of hurt and brokenness into an art form and empowerment as he dances, glides, and spins on the crutches that have become additions to and replacements for his feet. Using his crutches, however, to trip and flip the still crippled boy didn’t strike me as particularly angelic.
“There are five…no six…different major circus disciplines and we’ve seen three of them already.”
 |
| Source: Canadian Tire Center |
No matter the type of performance, Varekai is a riot of color. Tumblers dressed in yellow and red jump, twist and flip in perfect synchronization on an inflated mat that glows with each footfall. A duo aerial straps act sends warriors in black headdresses arcing out over the audience—then, somehow they meet again in the middle, creating mirrored, entwined figures, before flying apart once again. A juggler, green from head to toe, sets batons spinning through the air, manipulating the seemingly simple objects into gravity defying blurs. Two radically different sets of clowns provide colorful recurring comic relief from the more war-like creatures that inhabit the wilds of Varekai.
“Oooh…they just brought out double Russian swings, not just a single, this is about to get really impressive.”
 |
| Source: Snipview.com/ |
After dizzying and colorful spectaculars, an erect and confident—though no longer arrogant—youth and his fully human girl glide onto the stage hand in hand. The celebration of their betrothal—and the finale of the show—is a Russian swing performance…a double Russian swing.
Russian swings are suspended with steel bars instead of ropes. The long swing platform can rotate 360 degrees and is long enough to accommodate two and even three standing acrobats. It is used to throw an acrobat high into the air and away from the swing—room for aerial flips, turns and twists.
For the landings, what had been two hanging projection screens are attached to the base of a 5-foot high platform, becoming the safety nets. The acrobats, launched off the front of their swing, land into the sheets or onto the platform…sometimes even onto the shoulders of partners standing on the platform.
In the finale of the already impressive finale, the two Russian swings are turned to face each other and the acrobats fly from one swing to land on the upturned edge of the other swing.
 |
| Source: MyBabyStuff.ca |
Did you like it? Was it what you expected? Wasn’t it cool?
This was the first live circus performance I’ve been to in ages, and, speaking for myself, it did not disappoint. I have to admit, I attended more in the spirit of an aspiring student than a spectator, more as a technician than an artist. I was analyzing the movement, the rigging, and admiring the proficiency and technical perfection of the professional performers.
Besides the story of Icarus’s humbling and slow recovery, the title and theme of the show also struck a chord with me: I don’t really know where my passion for balance is taking me—it is certainly leading me to “varekai.” But “wherever” isn’t indicative of ambivalence or apathy; no matter what meandering path I pursue, I take my passion and sense of wonder with me.
Cirque du Soleil has a trailer for Varekai here if you’d like a glimpse of the show. And if you ever get a chance to go, I’d recommend it.
1 I would love to go more in depth into the topic of the circus disciplines, but that will have to wait for another day. For an excellent overview, please see Circus Arts 102 by Street Saint. Besides animal acts, which are often omitted in contemporary circus, the other discipline not included in the current version of Varekai is equilibristics—no balancing performances for me, unfortunately.
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