We had a great parking spot, due to my waving a cane at the parking attendants. The prices on the concession and souvenirs were inflated of course, but I couldn't complain, I hadn't paid for the tickets after all. We were there in plenty of time, among the first people under the big top for our great, front row seats. The stage was mostly obscured from view by three large banners, but the forepart was decorated by various statues, sculptures and stuffies of horses, and rocking horses, most of which were softly spotlit. Kimiko did get a picture or two of the backdrop and the little ponies.
We passed the wait by talking about how you could tell the horse people from the watchers: a lot were wearing boots, comfortable slacks or jeans, and even those that bothered to dress for the occasion walked with a certain recognizable power in their stride. There is a noticeable difference in the way horse people walk.
They warmed up the crowd with projected pictures and trivia about the show: it was a very clever way to engage the audience and get them calmed and focused on the stage.
The show started, beautiful music: flute, cello, and voice, and then the performers moved out slowly to remove the decorations from the sand. The back drops stayed in place, as we caught our first glimpse of the real stars of the show: the horses. Two weanling mustangs, a red and a blue roan burst from the entry closest to us, and I felt a fist clench in my chest. They ran, circled, played with each other, staying very close in the delineated spaces of the stage, even as the singer took center and moved over the sand as she invoked a calmness and a wonder with her voice.
I was very surprised how much this opening touched me. I actually cried as I watche dthose babies play. It was a very effective beginning, hitting an unexpected emotional depth in me from the start. I am not sure this effect was intended or was a side-effect of my own limitations of health and feelings of caged impotence when I recall how much a part of that world I was once. Kimiko was affected too: perhaps others were reached in similar ways.
I don't recall the order of the acts, just that some were visually wondrous, others were powerfully athletic. In some pieces the horses' personalities were very clear: mostly intentionally. The clown of an Andalusian who stuck his tongue out for us in an early act made everyone smile or laugh and bound the audience even closer to the horses on the stage.
The liberty horse work was very good, starring with one performer and one horse and a cleverly designed water feature in the central stage portion. They played tag, and the dark bay Lusitano stallion in the piece was breathtakingly magnificent up close
The second liberty performance was a solo trainer and her 6 grey (mostly Polish) Arabians and then for shock value, one lovely airy black Egyptian, who floated along in the group. They were all very attentive to their trainer, and performed a few rudimentary routines. I suspect the routine was much more impressive to people who haven't trained or free-longed horses, but it was lovely to watch them move freely like that, regardless of the intricacy or difficulty of the performance. I was very impressed by her ability to control two groups of horses at once, keeping those nearest her circling close while the other half ran the circuit of the stage.
http://www.cavalia.net/pages/theShow/artists_horses/artists/sylvia-zerbini.aspx?lang=EN-CA
The acrobats were gifted performers, and the choreography was light and airy, especial the aerilalists, but the tumblers were superb too. Watching them do basic vaulting and the tumbling in and around the two heavy horses used for the vaults reminded me of those old mosaics of Minoan bull dancers. Made me wonder if there was ever a chance at seeing a real recreation of that sort of an art form. The backdrop for the tumbling and the Roman riding was a coliseum, arches behind which hid the band.
The Roman riding I had been eager to watch and I was not disappointed. The Criollo horse I'd especially wanted to see was a mount of the best of the drivers, a woman with long spiral curled red hair. She was a very capable, read her horses and the teams of the others very well. She was the driver of the finale: a very impressive drive of a six horse team over a three foot jump, in tandems. She was brilliant. Roman riding is something I'd never seen live before, and I doubt I'd have enjoyed doing it much when I was able-bodied. It looks as difficult to do as anything I can imagine.
One of the most striking acts featured the silk aerialist flying out over the audience. It was lovely to see good acrobatics, but with the scale of the stage and the accommodations they had to make for the horses, sometimes the mechanics were a bit obvious. There's very little magical about watching two or three men on the lines holding the performer aloft, using their own tension to swoop and raise him. The Cirque productions, not having to work on sand or have the wide spaces horses need can disguise their mechanics a lit better, and use strategic lighting to ensure the audience never ntices the men behind the scenes.
One of the performances I've been eagerly awaiting was lovely and striking, but because of the width of the stage, it was harder to see the piece as balanced as it obviously was meant to be. There were other times, later in the performance when my eyes didn't know where to go, as well: sometimes the stage was very busy, and the shallowness and width of the stage made it impossible to see everything at once.
The dimensions of the stage worked phenomenally well during the cavalcade, however: 8 horses and riders moving in slow cadenced unison was very well done, and very different than the average quadrille: this was one of the very pleasant surprises of the show for me. They very cleverly created a Riders of Rivendell feel to the scenery, costumes and choreography, riders reaching their hands towards each other even as their horses danced, sleeves and silken cloaks fluttering gently. It was beautifully done, poetic and evocative.
A rain of leaves from the sky ended the last act before the intermission: tissue leaves in fall colours falling even as the aerialists performed on bungees and trapeze above us. I was eager to get my hands on as many of those as I could before they got trampled: a little piece of the show itself.
The pas-de-deux riders and acrobats returned in the second act, but the real stars of the final act were the trick riders. They started with a pastiche of a cowboy alone in the desert, and built up inertia rapidly, with pass after pass of two to four riders at a full gallop performing poses, drags and bounces with skill and agility, and a few exciting close calls with the draped entry arches. I know my heart was in my throat a couple of times watching how close the horse came to the corners, or how the rider barely got reseated before the arch. This was a surprisingly long portion, easily ten passes made from each gate, the Quarter horses and paints very bright as they flashed by in bursts.
There were only two acts where it was clear one performer was distinctly displeased about his part in things: either his rider was heavy handed, or he was hurting somewhere. He expressed his disapproval with pinned ears a lashing tail and occasionally overly emphatic steps, Sine it was a pas-de-deux, it was very clear by comparison that one mount was perfectly happy to be there and the other was just as clearly NOT.
I was a little surprised and very relieved that he was the only Mr. Grumpypants among the horses: far too often performance animals like these are over-used or otherwise abused. I wanted to find him in the stables after the show, just to see if I could see what had him so grumpy and I don't know, commune with him enough for him to know that his mood had been noticed by someone out there. It sounds weird, but he had the kind of personality I've always worked very well with.
We did get a great, if too brief wander through the stables after the show. I missed seeing the Criollo, as he was on the other half of the stable from where we came in, but still, it was really nice to see the faces of the ponies up close. They were all chowing down of course, and seemed for the most part quite settled and content.
The sole exception was the fellow on the entrance stall, an expressively eyed Andalusian. He was ignoring his hay and watching the crowds as they moved past his stall: it was very clear he wanted to be more social, but we were all too respectful of the request to keep our hands to ourselves. His white-lashed eyes looked out at us, and past us to the warm up arena: he seemed to be begging for some shared fun. Another personality I've had some experience with, and one I definitely miss.
It was a deeply affirming evening and a beautiful show. I hope they do well and wish them much success on future endeavors. It was a beautiful gift, and I wish the giver had not felt so conflicted that he gave up the chance to see the show for himself. :P
