HIGH HEELS AND HULA-HOOPS
'I love that my Hula act fits such cute cossies. I think my amazing heels make it more interesting to watch,' says Marawa
My signature Hula style is glittery high heels, sparkly hoops and mambo music. It’s very hard to Hula in high heels, but I would rather sacrifice a skill and wear a higher pair, because I think my amazing shoes make the act more interesting to watch, especially for men!
You never have any fitness problems if you practise Hula because it wakes up all your core muscles. I hated drama at school but loved sport. When I heard about a degree in circus studies I quit my social science course at uni and ran away to join the circus. It’s such a self-contained, anarchic world.
I came to London in 2007 and it’s now my home, although I live out of a suitcase in friends’ houses because I’m so much on the move that I have no fixed abode. I’m single because it’s tricky to keep relationships going when you’re on the road, even though men you meet are intrigued by what you do. I’m performing in Paris tonight and Blackpool next week.
Hula is still my big thing – I love that my act fits such cute cossies. Three years ago I met Marisa [Carnesky, see page 40], and I’ll be appearing in her Dystopian Wonders show next month, in CircusFest at London’s Roundhouse. In it, I walk up a ladder of knives, an act originally performed by a 1920s alligator-wrestler and snake-charmer called Koringa. People even tell me I look like her with my big hair.
LADY AND THE VAMPIRE
'You fall into this way of life and then fall in love with it¿you get too used to being mistress of your own time,' says Ruby Blue
My doctor parents are very into theatre, so I was always a drama-club kid. But I never wanted to be an actress – my thing was writing and visual arts. I trained as an aerialist but I was too lazy to go professional – I hated the sit-ups and pull-ups you have to do to train.
I loved music and singing, so I started doing showgirl stuff on the trapeze, because I was really drawn to the retro aesthetic of the 40s and 50s. In 2001, I formed a cancan troupe with girlfriends in order to get into Glastonbury for free; people would also employ us to break the ice at parties. We even toured with Fatboy Slim as his showgirls until we got fired by his management for being too drunk and chaotic.
I hung up my cancan boots four years ago and went into aerial and experimental cabaret instead, forming Trash City with my ex-boyfriend Joe Rush after the two of us staged a show about female pirates and a pole-dancing mermaid figurehead. A critic once described me as giving the audience the full sexy Jessica Rabbit experience with my figure-hugging circus outfits, though my costumes can be quite trashy as well as glam.
My current boyfriend is a musician, and it’s not hard to keep things going with someone whose lifestyle is equally chaotic. The money comes in large lumps with gaps in between, so you find yourself having to live on cheese toasties after buying lots of shoes and going on holiday, but I quite like it this way. You fall into this way of life and then fall in love with it and can’t leave it, because you get too used to being mistress of your own time.
A HIGH-FLYER WITH A DIFFERENCE
'My aim is to achieve as much status for circus as there is for theatre and dance,' says Geneva
The first circus I saw was the traditional Barnum & Bailey big top at the age of eight, but when my parents later took me travelling in Mexico, I was captivated by the street performers. Circus has always featured strong and self-sufficient women, so it’s good for the female image. I moved to the UK to do a master’s degree in live performance and scenography and got into the alternative circus scene here.
Audiences often don’t know what to expect from the show because they think a circus always means clowns. And in fact my spangly costume is an affectionate tribute to the traditional Pierrot. But I try not to wear too much make-up in case it makes me look like a drag queen.
The training is rigorous: it’s a constant battle between working your body and your brain. To protect my legs, I wear shin pads for the rope-work tricks I do – 18 metres above the ground with no safety net. My boyfriend is English and works as an aerial rigger, which means my life is often in his hands! We met while working together, which is a clichéd relationship in the circus world, because crisscrossing the globe for much of the year is so all-consuming. But my career is my priority, and my aim is to achieve as much status for circus as there is for theatre and dance.
ILLUSIONS OF GRANDEUR
'I've learnt to saw my husband in half ... but I don't do the DIY at home,' says Marisa
I’m from a dance background and I started off as one of the first performers in London’s early-90s burlesque revival. I showed quite a lot of flesh but I was never aiming to sexually arouse the audience with my striptease, more to make them laugh with pastiches of 50s sexual performances. Cabaret thrives on breaking taboos, giving people a thrill, but I also wanted to fuse it with circus and magic. I got to the point where I felt I could express a lot more with my clothes on, so now I create my violent magic illusions in a big blue cape over a long costume that is intended to make me look like a female Mason about to perform a ritual.
Paul Kieve, who created illusions for Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and the Lord of the Rings musical, mentored me in magic. David Blaine and Derren Brown trade on being arrogant and macho in their acts – it’s about being this all-knowing person – so I think it’s refreshing to have a woman do the magic. I’ve learnt to saw Rasp in half with a power tool, but I don’t do the DIY at home – definitely not!
Historically, violent magic illusions have always had a woman assistant in fishnets at the receiving end, so we subvert that image – and sometimes Rasp wears the fishnets. Our work together is funded by the Arts Council and also by a fellowship I’m doing at Sheffield University’s National Fairground Archive, so we are making magic while the sun shines.
BACK-FLIP TEASE
'In our show, I carry a guy much taller and heavier than me on my shoulders. I love being empowered in this way,' says Eve
In general, men do the musclework in acrobatics, and throw the women around, but in our show the women do a lot more of the carrying. At one point I carry a guy much taller and heavier than me on my shoulders – I love being empowered in this way. I train every day, though not with weights because the act is not based on force but is more about using your body weight and holding your strength.
Although I had studied gymnastics at school, I discovered a circus school at Lille and found acrobatics was much more creative. My parents are open-minded people, but they were not happy with me joining the circus because I left school before taking my baccalaureate. But I caught up with my exams later and, once they saw I could make a living from my work by touring, they changed their minds about it.
I have a boyfriend, Adrien, who is a juggler in another circus. Because you are working so much, you only really see other circus people. Ours is a nomadic way of life, so I can only meet up with Adrien for one week in every month – and my parents even less – because it’s a full-time job. I am travelling to Spain this spring and touring South America next year. Circus is another way of living, another world.
