When my friend Boyi Yuan went to his first circus in America, it must have been Circus Chimera, for he remembered the funny clown who got tangled up in a roll of toilet paper. So did I. Then out of nowhere – Boyi, who knew virtually nothing of my thoughts on circus — expressed himself with marked passion “A circus should be in a tent, nowhere else.”
Awesome! I could not agree more. Indeed, down through the ages, circuses around the world were first presented in amphitheaters, usually raised for the occasion. When the first portable tent was invented in 1825, most shows now could raise canvas and place in the middle the most enduring symbol of its timeless magic -- the ring. In my boyhood, I always looked for ring curbs to appear.
Most amusements each have their own defining symbols. For baseball, home plate; at the symphony, the director’s podium; in a movie house, the sweeping curtain. And at the circus, a tent beats any all-purpose arena for atmosphere. We are in their world.
In 1956, when John Ringling North struck the big top for good, declaring its sheer immensity a thing of the past, a public outrage proved the nation's affection for that special world. Art Concello had wanted to shrink the size of the tent, and North would have nothing to do with it. Rather, indoors he was able to maintain the high and lavish standards for which his Greatest Shows on Earth were famed.
Big tops kept big topping, Shrine circuses played indoors, and the crowds kept coming. Those halcyon days would not last forever.
All the years later, I will argue that in any given town, a far lower percentage of circus-going citizens flock to the big and little tops. To be sure, there is still a market to please. But the increasingly larger arenas ill serve circuses that simply can't fill them anymore. Nothing is more embarrassing than to attend an indoor circus in a near-empty house.
Today in the UK, virtually all circuses perform under canvas. Cique du Soleil for a time appeared annually at the majestic Prince Albert Hall.
Kenneth Feld may be stuck with this new reality. Worse yet, with a show so radically dismissed as to merit the widespread disdain of the fans. I'd recommend your linking to Douglas McPherson's Circus Mania blog and scrolling down. His nuanced notice comparing last year's show to this new one offers refreshing insight and commentary.
I have this sad feeling that Mr. Feld has lost faith in the circus, in fact no longer believes in it, and such things as a simple ring. Rather than frame the action as rings do, his chaotic set design at times calls undue attention to itself with flashing lights and changing colors, rendering the performers less prominent. And these tacky add-ons only make loud and clear the message: We are not our past. We no longer even call ourselves a circus, so get over it! A bit stubborn? The Felds have a splendid track record in managing and promoting the entertainments of others, not nearly as good inventing their own
Can the Disney on Ice Crowd make it work? Only time will tell
In the meantime, they’ve brought back the ringmaster — but, notes Anonymous, she has no rings to rule.
To be maybe continued
