American Circus Educators Magazine Winter 2016 (Issue 3, Vol 8) | Page 8

| REFLECTION 1 | Intro to EdCon: Embracing the Circus Paradox BY ALTHEA YOUNG My doubles partner and I just started our very first circus company. We started with the idea that we’d slowly build material, maybe make a show and if we failed—that would be okay— because it was a learning experience, and really who’d buy tickets to see two kids put on an hour and twenty minute show? We kept it casual, but in reality we wanted our own company badly, although neither of us wanted to admit it. At the ages of 14 and 18, we were already used to being turned down by festivals and cabarets. In rejection letters, they would use the words age and experience as if they were interchangeable: “Dear Applicant, we regret to inform you that you have not been selec ted to participate in this year’s festival. You were one of our most talented applicants, and it is clear that the future of circus is in good hands. We hope you apply again, once you’ve matured.” So I was simultaneously filled with panic and elation when our company The Brave Little Circus was invited to perform at this American 8 Circus Educators Conference (aka EdCon, aka a building full of my circus heroes). As the first day of the conference rolled around, I entered Circus Center in San Francisco delighted to see many of my old friends. I was with my people; circus people. At EdCon the work/study youth are called ‘bandanas’, because we wear bandanas to signify that we are volunteers. We bandanas spent the day packing goody bags, setting up food and moving mats. In the afternoon, as attendees slowly trickled in, we circled up to get to know one another. After meeting these young people, all of whom had such great work ethic and compassionate communication skills, it became clear to me that the high level of maturity, not uncommon amongst young people from the circus, was especially alive in my fellow volunteers. After all the attendees had signed in and made their name tags, we headed downstairs for dinner. At every table, there was a conversation about circus. My muggle friends usually get irritated when I talk about my crazy circus theories, so being in a room full of circus people talking about circus stuff; I felt like a kid in a candy store. But as the urge to share my crazy circus philosophies built up; the realization of who I was among hit me. I wanted to share my theory that the only thing that defines circus is the fact that it is undefined, which is why it has limitless possibilities and the potential to become the ultimate, integrated art form. So we should do our best to never define it, but the act of setting a rule of never setting rules is a paradox and therefor circus is a paradox. Instead of saying that, I sat and ate my dinner, eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation, too afraid to chime in. They were everyone I grew up wanting to be. During dinner, my partner Ellie arrived, so we headed upstairs to the theater to get ready. Beautiful performers donned their perfectly bedazzled leos, and we scavenged through bags of clothes we had thrown together last minute, just trying to find two t-shirts that were the same shade of white. Once we settled on this makeshift “contemporary” costume we moved to makeup. Truthfully, we’re usually too sweaty from working out to wear mascara, and neither of us are what you’d call beauty enthusiasts, so if you were watching us battle the liquid lipstick, it would have been quite clear that we are clowns. By the time we had tackled hair and makeup, it was time for the show to begin. Each time an act took to the stage, I felt more lucky to be from the Bay Area. Prescott Circus was first with an invigorating Moko Jumbie stilts act which lifted everyone's spirits. My friend Julie Rogers, of Kinetic Arts Center, came second with a dynamic tissue act. Julie is the type of performer that connects so well with the audience that they feel like they are performing vicariously through her. As someone who has watched her grow up, I felt immensely proud sitting in the audience and listening to people comment on how amazing she was. She was followed by the Les Aeriels girls, who performed a dramatic, tango like piece on aerial lollypop. Their performance was precise and synchronized, and the trio moved in flawless unison. Right before us was a young lady from Circus Center. She performed a slow and emotional hammock act, which showed graceful maturity beyond her years. The last act by AcroSports was dark and angsty, showing off the classic Bay Area style. When it was our turn, the MC announced us, so we grabbed hands and walked on stage. The fear fell away. The worry, the scramble; it had to be put aside. Now was time for us to perform. We began our act, and I was immediately able to feel what type of audience this was. This was a circus audience. They knew what was hard, or dangerous, or new. The scariest part was that it was an honest audience. They were not going to clap for something they weren’t impressed by. For me, the most memorable moment in our act was our final trick. We performed a double double star; a trick which is just as dangerous as it looks. Even as we were wrapping, the audience was shouting, because they had already figured out what we were going to do. We threw the trick. The audience roared and the stage felt like the safest place in the world. The following days, I attended several helpful workshops. From learning about how to manage my social media presence, to planning out rehearsals, I learned so much that I could apply to my practice. As an emerging artist, I was really thankful for the opportunity to consume so much useful information. In addition to workshops, there were also panels. The panel I found most interesting was Directing a Compelling Youth Show. It was fascinating how different directors had different ways of interacting with and thinking of youth in performance. A good example of this was that Jaron Hollander from Kinetic Arts Center and Dic Wheeler from Art Farm had two completely different and equally valid ways of interpreting the teenage angst they had noticed emerging in their troupe; Jaron made a show about descent into total rebellion and Dic made a show about joy. This panel was representative of the diversity in youth circus style. Some directors, such as Jessica Hentoff, said she preferred a more traditional, upbeat style while 9