Dec 19

Dec 19 Cirque d'Hiver

“The band begins at ten to six
When Mr. K. performs his tricks without a sound
And Mr. H will demonstrate
Ten summersets he’ll undertake on solid ground

Having been some days in preparation
A splendid time is guaranteed for all
And tonight Mr. Kite is topping the bill!”

— Being For the Benefit of Mr. Kite, The Beatles from Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967)

Somewhat surprisingly, most pop songwriters who have addressed the circus adopt a maudlin perspective. Their lyrics often portray the clowns, acrobats, and jugglers as social outcasts, all severely damaged human beings. In these portrayals, the circus becomes an allegory for society’s evils and failings, or a lost love.

Perhaps the upside down smile associated with Emmett Kelly is responsible for this largely perverse view of something that so joyous. Lennon and McCartney are two of the few lyricists who have adopted a far more upbeat perspective, crooning that “a splendid time is guaranteed for all.”

I first experienced the circus while standing on a street corner for the Shriners Circus Parade in downtown Milwaukee when I was five or six. I remember seeing several performances during my early years, and then a decade or so later, attending the famed Barnum & Bailey Circus Parade that captivated Milwaukee each summer back in the late Sixties and early Seventies. Since then, I have seen circuses in Moscow, Shanghai, and Lucca, Italy. Along the way, I have also attended magic shows and dozens of carnivals and amusement parks.

Since I was four or five years old, the circus has given me nothing but a sense of wonder and joy. I always cover my eyes with open fingers as I watch the trapeze artists and tightrope walkers high above the center ring. The pink or blue fog that frequently rises from the ring shrouds the jugglers and acrobats in other worldliness.

I love when a clown opens a can filled with compressed fabric snakes as he runs up the stairs into the audience, with those seated on the aisle shrieking as the snakes rapidly uncoil mid air. As the magician makes a man or women disappear into thin air, I inevitably ask the same two questions: How did he do that? Can he do it again, but slower? And the plate spinner from the old Ed Sullivan Show (and a second clip). Can he keep the ones in back spinning, or will they crash to the floor as he adds more plates spinning atop poles.

I don’t eat the cotton candy anymore, but when the vendors offer that delicacy to the kids, I always recall the evening that I ran a cotton candy machine, with the ceiling and my clothes oozing with sticky silk-like strands of heated pink sugar.

No elephants or tigers in our enlightened era, nor freaks. Political correctness carries the day. My parents never let me see “lobster boy.” Now he is no longer on display in a wooden crate. As for contortionists, well there is yoga class.

Several years back, I read photographer Richard Avedon’s biography. Back in 1955 he photographed Dovima with two elephants for the cover of the September issue of Harper’s Bizarre. I was curious where in Paris that circus was located.

On my last trip to Paris, I walked past the building that houses that Cirque d’Hiver Bouglione, which is located at the junction of rue des Filles Calvaires and rue Amelot in the Marais. Unfortunately, I was out of luck; this circus venue is closed during the summer months. I did some research afterwards, discovering that this was the site of the famous Avedon session.

Tonight, I finally fulfilled my dreams, seated in the third row on the aisle.

Go to the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and the Arc de Triomphe, but don’t miss the circus the next time you find yourself sauntering down the Rue de Rivoli or the Boulevard Saint-Germain. It is just as historic as the must-see attractions that draw most to Paris.

The Cirque d’Hiver Bouglione is housed in a circular 20-sided polygon designed by Jacques Ignace Hittorff, the architect responsible for Gare de Nord. When the circus first opened on December 11, 1852, it was known as the Cirque Napoléon. In 1870, it was renamed Cirque d’Hiver (Winter Circus). As you walk through the Musée d’Orsay, keep in mind that this circus served as the inspiration for Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, John Singer Sargent, Georges Seurat, and countless others. It also was featured in the Carol Reed film entitled Trapeze, starring Gina Lollobrigida, Burt Lancaster, and Tony Curtis—the entire film was shot in the circus or the surrounding streets..

Through the decades, the building has hosted concerts, movies and political rallies, with the circus occasionally going dark. But for the last 80 or so years, the Bouglione Family has owned and operated the Cirque d’Hiver. To this day, members of the Bouglione family perform each evening.

Tonight’s performance ran for somewhere around 100 minutes, with a 15-minute intermission. Pierre Nouveau’s nine-piece orchestra, and occasionally a singer, provided the musical support. We were treated to the sounds of David Bowie, Michael Jackson, and Stevie Wonder, along with lots of circus instrumental music and drum rolls. Kudos also go to the lighting crew. Their effects were spectacular.

Paying homage to the elephants that once did tricks, the trio of clowns know as Les Mangeurs de Lapin masqueraded as elephants who fought with each other, as well as spraying the audience with water. The three clowns came back as Mexican singers and musicians, as well as smartly dressed combatants who fought with what looked like gigantic balls of burrata cheese. Eventually, they pelted the audience with smaller balls—thankfully they were just cloth-covered foam.

Jimmy Saylon, a steam-punk clad magician, made people disappear, including himself. When he reappeared, I was wowed. How did he do that?

We were treated to three “high-wire” acts, including Julot Cousins. He started on the ground spinning silver hula hoops as he dressed. Eventually Cousins found himself high above the crowd on a small platform attached to an unnervingly flexible pole—referred to as the oscillating mast. I looked for straps or other safety gear, but saw none. I don’t know how he avoided falling to his death, but he has made it to 60, so he knows what he is doing.

The ladies certainly liked Antony Cesar’s aerial ballet. David Bowie’s Space Oddity was the perfect song to accompany Cesar’s graceful moves as he held onto white straps dangling from the ceiling while he spun like an Olympic gymnast. Talk about six-pack abs.

No circus would be complete without a juggler. Tonight, the master kept five tennis racquets in motion moving repeatedly along an oval pathway.

The elephant and lions may be gone, but Regina Bouglione put her pygmy ponies through their paces. Several of the ponies bore antlers and Santa hats.

Yes, I had a splendid time. I will be back for more next year.

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