Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta circus. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta circus. Mostrar todas las entradas

jueves, 3 de enero de 2013

Violetta, the Half Woman


Amazing Account Of A Limbless Beauty Show

by Wallace Stort London Life January 27, 1940

"The next stage was the central one of the five that formed the semicircle. I stood out from and was rather more ornate than the others, and obviously its occupant was the star attraction of the show.
The name of it above in brilliant Neon lights was "Violetta," and the lady was no stranger to me, as I had seen her and chatted with her two or three times before. Older readers of "London Life" may remember that I have referred to her more than once in my articles.

Violetta is probably the most outstanding of all the limbless ladies on exhibition, and is, I think, at the moment the only example of her particular type now before, at any rate, the American public. While the lecturers were busy with the other attractions, she remained perfectly calm and detached, neatly poised on her slender-stemmed, heavily brocade-topped pedestal, set in the centre of the stage. Now and then she would glance aloofly at the staring crowds, apparently undisturbed by their curiosity.
I remember her as a rather plain schoolgirl of 17 or 18, just over from Germany with her fair hair worn in a straight, flat fashion that did not add to her attraction. But that was ten or more years ago. Nowadays she has blossomed out into a real beauty, her blonde hair beautifully marcelled, her piquant face attractively made up, still grave and aloof, but undeniably charming.

Violetta possess a perfect figure, firm, beautifully curving bust, small neat waist and slim, rounded hips. But those are the beginning and end of her charms. She is merely a beautiful torso, completely without either arms or legs, even to the rudiments of limbs. Except that the usual limbs are absent, there is no suggestion of deformity about the neat trunk, which would not suffer comparison with that of any beauty queen or national Venus. In fact her usual billing, in her case no exaggeration, is as the "Beautiful Armless and Legless Venus."
According to her medical history, the torso is not only faultlessly modelled, but is without blemish of scar of any kind. Doctors and artists who have examined her have actually stated that, in her case, the absence of limbs constitutes no deformity. The doctors' verdict is that "the formation of the body is perfect within its own limits, and no provision has been made by Nature for the presence or functioning of limbs". And artists have described the wonderful torso as "a perfect, if unfinished, piece of natural sculpture."

When I first saw Violetta on her arrival in the States from Germany, years ago, she was very modestly clad in a costume of unrelieved black velvet, moulded to her figure, certainly, but quite opaque and clothing her from neck to hips. She still remains faithful to that type of costume, but it has subtly altered and has become much more alluring and revealing. The costumes of hers, by the way, can only be described as a specially designed figure-moulding pocket into which the torso is neatly fitted by her maid. The particular one she was wearing at this moment - with, by the way, a profusion of glittering necklaces - was of sheer black silk of a cobwebby fineness and transparency and clinging with the unwrinkled perfection of a skin-tight silk stocking. In fact it was obviously drawn on and smoothed into position exactly like a silk stocking.
I should say that the whole costume, when stripped from her, could easily be crushed into a loose, flimsy ball within one's closed fist. I could certainly be said to cover Violetta's charms from armless shoulders to shapely hips, but every curve and rounded contour of the beautiful torso was as fully revealed, and much more alluringly, as if she had been nude. AS she rested, gracefully poised on the cushioned top of her pedestal, one could easily note the faultless perfection of the limbless body.

At length the lecturer came round to Violetta's stage. She at once became the professional artist, aware of her public, bowing to right and left, with a charming, unaffected smile, as the man orated about her wonderful and unique charms in the usual highly eulogistic manner. He hoped that nobody would be so foolish to be sorry for her, as Violetta would be most hurt and would not regard it as a compliment.

She was perfectly happy and contented. In fact he could let the audience into a little secret and tell them that Violetta did not think a great deal of limbs in general. She did not think them particularly attractive and, for her own part, thought she was better without them. (In which, by the way, though the audience thought it a good joke, there is more than a little truth, and Violetta is not the only one of her kind to have the same strange, but compensating outlook. And on this occasion Violetta, while the audience was laughing, nodded and smiled vigorously, obviously in full agreement with the lecturer).

He suggested that she would make an excellent and economic wife for any enterprising young man, as she could never run away from home, and would save him a fortune in shoes, stockings, gloves, etc. But he did not tell his laughing audience that Violetta, as I knew, had been happily married for some years, and that round her neck, along with the gleaming rows of necklaces, she always wore a thin, gold chain on which hung her engagement and wedding rings, which she could wear in no other way.
After the lecturer's introductory remarks, Violetta presented her act; and a very remarkable act it is, revealing to the astonished spectators who see her for the first time the surprising fact that a totally limbless girl may not necessarily be absolutely helpless.

She is attended to during the performance by a very pretty nurse (who is, in fact, her maid) clad in a stunning uniform of brief, little more than hip-length skirts and silk tights, that no ordinary nurse could possibly wear. The nurse comes forward and first of all places on the floor below Violetta's pedestal (which, by the way, is about two and a half feet high, bringing its occupant up to about normal height) a thick mat of brightcoloured, cushioned rubber, and round it the materials for the act.
She then releases a catch in the top of the pedestal on which Violetta rests, and allows it to tilt forward slightly. Violetta drops to the mat in a graceful, flexible swing, and manages miraculously to remain upright in a perfect balance. After that she looks after herself, though the nurse hovers round solicitously all the time to offer help if necessary.
The extraordinary thing is that she is able to move about the mat quite easily, jumping or hopping - however you would describe the action - rather like a man in a sack race, only much more gracefully and effortlessly, and keeping her balance most of the time. Sometimes, in fun, she rolls right over, head first, she is coming at the end of the roll to an easy upright position again.
Meanwhile, using only her lips and teeth, she places in position a small easel, and upon that a pad of drawing papers. Then, with a charcoal pencil in a long holder, held between her teeth, she sketches in rapid succession, cartoons of well-known people, the nurse tearing off each finished drawing in turn and tossing it into the audience, to be grabbed by eager hands. In the same way, using only her wonderfully flexible lips, teeth and tongue, she opens a cigarette box which stands on a low table, selects a cigarette, and shifts it expertly to the corner of her mouth. Then, with her tongue she pushes open a matchbox - which, of course, is a fixture in a small chromium stand - and picks out in some miraculous manner a match. The cigarette is now between her lips in one corner, and the match between her teeth in another. She strikes the match, brings the end of the cigarette and the lighted end of the match together, lights the cigarette, and blows out and spits out the match. The trick is one that you'd think impossible until you see it, and then it looks almost easy!
She also demonstrates, in pantomime, how she can, if necessary wash herself practically all over. Again she uses her teeth, holding a sponge between them; and by contorting her amazingly flexible limbless torso into every conceivable position, she keeps the sponge moving lightly over her body. At one time she had rolled herself into a compact ball, "showing," as the lecturer humorously remarks, "how easily Violetta manages to make both ends meet!"
You would imagine that the feat of threading a needle and sewing, using only the tongue, teeth and lips, would be an impossible one. But this Violetta demonstrates is also comparatively simple to an ingenious mind. She picks the needle up with her tongue and lips, and sticks it point downward into the wood of her table, using her closed teeth to drive it home. Then she uses her tongue to pick up the thread, and manipulates it easily and swiftly into position with her lips and, bending down, threads the needle expertly. The sewing seems a more difficult business, but the fact is that Violetta's lips have become almost as flexible as fingers, and she seems to find no trouble in the task.
At the end of the remarkable little show she hops easily to the end of her mat and bows and smiles to the tremendous applause Then, turning to the nurser who stoops towards her, she crouches lightly and hops upwards into the nurse's arms. The nurse, with the beautiful limbless body in her arms, now steps down from the stage and carries her mistress among the audience, with which she chats in a smiling, friendly manner. She answers all sorts of questions about herself, even the most impertinent, with a laugh, and allows anybody who wishes to touch and smooth her body, in order to prove to themselves that she is "real and not an illusion."
The only thing she bars is kissing - which, believe it or not, many young men, as well as some women, attempt at nearly everyone of her performances. She has a way of using a shoulder, as she rests in her nurse's arms, that a boxer might, and the unexpected jab to the chin of a too ardent admirer is sometimes calculated to bring tears to his eyes!
Finally, Violetta is borne back to her pedestal, where the nurse settles her comfortably, and she returns to her grave and aloof contemplation of whatever is she thinks about, until the time comes round again for her turn.

martes, 23 de octubre de 2012

Ghost Games







 I was lucky enough to see the annual Ghost Games Halloween performance piece by the Cabiri last weekend. This show was comprised of several creepy vignettes depicting ancient lore through aerial dance and acrobatics. It was a stunning performance, very dark themes throughout, scary, visually striking and beautiful.

There are four more shows left, get your tickets here while they last!!






















































lunes, 16 de abril de 2012

Cabiria





 Here are some more photos from over the weekend, warming up before the show...























And some more from our final performance! It's been magical....











frost demon






















Photos via John Cornicello

martes, 10 de abril de 2012

Tarhun: Legend of the Lightening God

Hi All, below is an article about the show I am performing in for one more week. If you are so inclined, come and see the show! Put on by The Cabiri Circus Troupe, a truly incredible group of performers that have been so fun and inspiring to work with! 


Thank you to everyone who came out to my show ^_^


The Working Artist: Spotlight on The Cabiri

John Cornicello


I thought people knew better but in the last couple months I’ve had some conversations that positively shocked me. It seems there are still people who believe that art just magically happens: that it’s easy if only you have “talent,” that it isn’t actually hard work, that it isn’t a “real job.” Crudely summarized, these people believe that art consists largely of screwing around.
Those discussions became the seeds for this new monthly series at the Seattle Star entitled The Working Artist. The intent is to follow around an artist or group of artists each month, discussing their creative process. But beyond that it also discusses the daily routines and sacrifices they endure so that they can actually make art in contemporary society: a look into their day jobs, so to speak, and how they balance creativity and artwork with the often considerably less rewarding work that pays bills and spreads their reputation in other directions.
This feature series is dedicated to promoting an understanding of art and artistic creation as a primarily dirty, sordid, difficult affair of sweat and blood and sacrifice rather than the currently glamorous notion of inspiration and art exploding full-born from the head of Zeus by sheer genius. It does not attempt to demystify the creative process–I suspect that’s been done enough already–but rather to appreciate the process from the roots up. Art is hard work; only the ignorant and the foolish think otherwise.
***
Much of the charge that art is an activity for dilettantes stems from its lack of apparent physical labor. Though there is a degree of physical effort involved, it would be easy to believe that old saw “anyone can act,” for instance. It would be equally easy to state that painters, writers, musicians don’t doanything–after all, anyone can write, anyone can slop paint on a canvas, anyone can bang the keys on a piano with her head. How often, after all, has one heard the snide tones of “I could do that!” about modern art or fiction or music?
By contrast no one but a fool or an ironist will ever say that circus arts and acrobatics are physically easy. Such work is a pure expression of the physical agility, strength, power and grace of the human body. Those who think it is easy to hang from a trapeze can try it and see how very difficult it is, and one can always collect their bodies later for burial.
That was my rationale behind choosing The Cabiri to be the first group for our Working Artist spotlight. For twelve years Artistic Director John Murphy and his company have labored in an underappreciated craft, making beautiful work that is both spiritually and emotionally effective, and bringing the magical and the spectacular back into everyday life.
“There was magic in the ancient world,” says Mr. Murphy, “We have lost that. The Cabiri are here to bring that magic back into the world. We want you to walk out of our shows and look up into the clouds and see the images of the numina up there. We want you to hear the voices in the breeze. We want you to stretch your imagination as ancient man did and to see the world behind the world, and to listen to its record.”
Naming his group after the Samothracian deities, the Kaberoi, Mr. Murphy assembled what he calls “the theatrical emissaries of the Annunaki Project,” an arts education organization that preserves and presents stories based on the mythologies of ancient cultures in 1999. “We seek to revive stories that have become obscure with the passage of time,” he says.
Their latest production, Tarhun: Legend of the Lightning God draws from a very obscure story indeed: namely, the Hittite myth of The Storm God and the Serpent–appropriately, a tale the Hittites invoked every spring to celebrate the rebirth of the earth. Still, given the fragmentary nature of all human knowledge about Hittite religion and language, it is a difficult task. Only the truly dedicated would undertake it at all.
The Cabiri are nothing if not dedicated. As I am, they are dedicated to a redefinition of theater not just to promote the aerial arts or cirque noir but to find the ritual and mystery at the heart of all performance.
“These stories in Tarhun go back before the Athenian mysteries or the Eleusinian mysteries. People who trace theater back to the Greeks don’t trace far enough. That’s our area. I don’t consider us revisionists, but more like…what’s the word? Revivalists. Dance revivalists.”
John Cornicello

An apt phrase. Revival is necessary. Somewhere along the factory line of specialization, the simple magic of performing and being part of a performance has become not the province of priestesses and initiates any longer but the rather remote and often rather dull career of MFA candidates. Even something as fundamental to the ancients as catharsis has, as a cultural phenomenon, become trivial and closer in feeling to voyeurism than to any connection of souls and beliefs.

One of the goals of The Cabiri is to restore this sense of catharsis, not as an emotional purge as Augusto Boal would put it, but rather as a reunification of the individual with the wisdom of the collective unconscious. “Most if not all of the myths told prior to the common era integrate the human species with the world around them,” says Mr. Murphy. “They place the human soul in the world rather than create a universe for the benefit of the human ego. We feel stories which create a world greater than the self make the self change its worldview in such a way that individuals will contemplate their relation to others and consider the ramifications of their individual actions more holistically.”
On one level, The Cabiri approach this goal by restoring spectacle to performance. In Tarhun: Legend of the Lightning God, The Cabiri’s combination of dance and aerial arts have merged with the primeval myth in a most spectacular way. The tale of Tarhun and the
dragon Illuyankas is the centerpiece of the first act. Even without any knowledge of Hittites, Hurrians, Akkadians or Canaanites, one can recognize this story from its myriad variations throughout history from the Book of Isaiah to the Greek tale of the Hydra down through St. George and the Dragon and the Fengshen Bang of China. In Tarhun, the dragon myth combines with other Hittite tales culled largely from the work of Harry Hoffner’s Hittite Myths, including tales of how the goddess Hannahannah’s bee cured the world of drought by finding honey and Tarhun’s final battle with Ullikummi the living mountain.
There is throughout the entire work a naive, childlike appreciation of magic and the magic of imagination: it is a fine display of the primordial power of telling and listening to a story. That it is also spectacularly beautiful increases its power. Even the most cynical adult can witness the pure physical beauty of the story in its telling. Beneath it all, supporting the graceful narrative and awe-inspiring technique required to narrate it is a deep belief in art and story as a guide to life itself. “We continuously stress that to forget history is to risk repeating the mistakes of the past,” Mr. Murphy notes. “Myth is the wisdom of the past. To forget myth is to lose the wisdom of the ancients. Knowing these stories gives the audience access to 10,000+ years of cultural wisdom.”
Make no mistake: this is a group of serious artists. The Cabiri unite teamwork, effort, sweat, and concentration to pursue their art and hone it to its finest. And they have patience. Lots of patience. That the group are not regularly celebrated by Seattle’s performing arts pundits, much less by Seattleites at large, strikes me as a miscarriage of justice. With their emphasis on the humanly divine and divinely human, spanning all epochs as well as creating shows for all ages of people, The Cabiri deserve a much larger and much more faithful following.
(Part 2 of our spotlight on The Cabiri continues next week)

lunes, 5 de diciembre de 2011

Gandini’s Circus

Gandini’s Circus

Heading down busy Kelly Ave in downtown Edmond, passing an Arby’s and a gas station, you wouldn’t think anything of the obscure dirt road blocked off by a yellow fence.
At first you may just notice a barren field and nothing else, but it doesn’t take long to realize the full history of this strange, abandoned plot. Concrete foundations checker the tan grass while rusty metal poles protrude out of the bushes and trees. There are several houses that have
long since been vacated and later vandalized by passers-by. Further into the acreage, hidden behind some thick brush, you’ll start getting an idea of what this place used to be.
Gandini’s Circus went on for some time between the 1900′s and 1930, touring across various parts of the states. Fragments of the circus still linger around including 4 or 5 trailers where the clowns, acrobats and animals were housed. 
Even the cages, large and small, are still there– discarded when the circus apparently disbanded. Although many of the trailers are burnt from the inside out by either arson or a terrible accident, you can still find fliers, popcorn bags and soda cups along with assorted pieces of memorabilia throughout the area.

What makes the area so spooky is not the place’s background, but it’s lack of obvious history. I’ve tried to search the Internet for information on the circus but could only find a few pages vaguely relating to what it was. Digging through the ashes in and around the trailers I was able to find a few old fliers in tact that shed some light on the place, but still not enough to make this area any less frightening.

The real scare comes at night, walking through this barren place, maybe tripping over an old cougar cage or deflated clown ball, when the full scope of what ‘haunted’ really boils down to. 


Afterall, there may be nothing more dreadful than a haunted circus burned to the ground. A place does not necessarily require ghosts to be haunted, but if it’s scary enough, maybe we’re the ones who create them.

-Written by Robert Cole

Images and Words from Source