Sunday, November 19, 2006

Sun Circus

So I splurged a bit and purchased Cirque du Soleil tickets.  Got so overzealous with the purchase that I bought the tickets front row.  Of course, I didn't realize that those were the ones I picked - seats 5,6,7 row 105. 

We were
so close, we could see the tape used to mic the performers, the tech crew in the rafters, and the sweat trickling down made-up faces from heavy stage lighting.  We were also so close that we were dowsed with feathers, dust from the acrobats, and smoke machine fog.  An asthmatics dream, right? 

Chi's favorite part was the blue princess on the string (actually an angel suspended from the rafters by suspension wire). 

The premise of the circus acts was that it was the death of a clown, and the events following his rise to heaven were his fantasies in the afterlife.  Um, ooookay...  I suspect the creative genius behind the show had one to many puffs on the magic dragon.  Although the costumes were brightly colored and the athletes were good at what they did, the show was disjointed and confusing.  The makeup was sparse, with only a few characters in face paint.

And the God of a man that caught my eye was only out in three scenes (blasted, his chiseled chest and six pack and the long braided pony tail were dreamy... and his features? superbly strong, almost Greek (though his bio says he's from the Ukraine or something).  Those thighs could crush, they were so defined by muscles... and his performance in the supersized hulahoop had me mesmerized.  Sometimes it pays to be close, cause it felt like the smiles and waves he directed our way were coming to us personally, and not the thousands seated behind us.  But enough about him.

Chi remained mesmerized by the performance and actually cried when it was time to go.  She kept saying "It's not over yet" everytime the crowd applauded for a stunt or the end of a skit.  And of course, though they waved and said hi to her personally from the stage, she was unhappy to leave.  She didn't seem to mind that the play was sung in Italian (which I understood for the most part, though I speak none of it and am only somewhat privvy to rememberances of Spanish from school).

I, however, was quite happy to go, having been seated next to a rather large gentleman whose hips claimed some of my chair in addition to his own.

I think the lady who proclaimed this a "prissy circus" was right... and clearly being among the underprivileged, I didn't get the hype.

I should probably add that I didn't like the hour long drive in circles through the state and number/letter hodgepodge that is Washington DC... We drove past the circus tents four times before we went the right direction toward Virginia - - just past the Washington and Lincoln monuments is a little sign reading  395 with an arrow pointing straight ahead (in the middle of a forked road as if to say "hahaha, bet you don't know which way to go").  I yelled at mom, who unfortunately had those blasted MapQuest directions that prefer the scenic route to hell rather than the straight shot.  And sadly, in the midst of berating her about the unfortunate inability to read the paper and hunt down signs in the dark at the same time, I recalled that some of my best battles with family and ex boyfriends seem to be at the hands of faulty directions and my driving.  Hmmm....

No comments: