cirque
"keep the circus going inside you, keep it going, don't take anything too seriously, it'll all work out in the end"
David Niven
Now you see them, now you don’t. Such is the way of the travelling circus. Like a Jack in the Box the circus pops up seemingly out of nowhere. Only to disappear again days later. Day after day they put on a show to bring smiles to peoples faces. They do not ask for much in return just a little room to park their trailers and a spot of grass for their horses to graze. So keep on the look out for you never know when they might arrive, and you certainly will not know when they leave.
C
ibutor r t s on
Hazel Kidd The lovely Hazel is one of the models for this month. Showing us the many sides of performance and the circus. What did you want to be when you were young? I wanted to be an actress. I suppose that might be the reason I am a little over dramatic sometimes...
Emma Dorning Emma is our beauty model this month, showing some new variations to the clown make up we know and love! What did you want to be when you were young? A Ballerina haha. Its funny to think back, i could never imagine being a ballerina now!!
Rebecca Wall This months photographer Rebecca captures the magic of the circus in everything. She also writes about her childhood dream to join the circus. What did you want to be when you were young? In the Circus of course... What else!
E
's Lett r o t er i d The Circus Edition Here’s to the Circus. One of the longest running areas of performance arts. Of course through the years the Circus has had to make many changes. No longer do we queue up to watch freak shows of bearded women or dwarfs dressed up in funny outfits. Nor do we wish to see drugged up tigers, seemingly tamed by a man holding up a chair and whip. Those circuses are a thing of the past. It is the skill of the acrobats and the spectacle of it all that we line up to see now. The circus has become fashionable, modernised by the likes of Cirque Du Soleil, putting on million pound shows. So it is for these reasons that this edition of Cirque is channelling all things circus, from the shoots to the editorials. It is of course the very inspiration for our name, Cirque, so it is only right we pay tribute to the magical world in this edition.
Rebecca Wall
the circus comes by night
Hazel Wears: Delicate Lace White Dress, Topshop, £35 Jumbo Bow Tie, The Magic Box Costume Shop, £4.99 Circus Inspired Orange And Pink Wedge Heels, Topshop, £45 Blue Silk Sash, Stylists Own
Hazel wears: Blue Polka Dot Silk Roll Neck Top, Vintage Black Jeans, H&M, £30 Oversized Clown Shoes, The Magic Box Costume Shop, £8.99
Hazel Wears: As Before
Hazel Wears: Gold Shimmer Mullet Dress, H&M, £42 Brown Equestrian Fitted Blazer, Zara, £40 Black Ringmaster Top Hat, The Magic Box Costume Shop, £8.99 Black Suede Heels With Bow Detatil (Next Page), Topshop, £45
Circus Traditions "never sit with your back to the ring"
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"never whistle"
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"never wear green"
... "If a bird flys into the tent it is unlucky"
when
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. t t n o a . w b
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grow up circus
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ome children want to be astronauts, some zookeepers or firemen; I always wanted to be in the circus . . .
It was a warm summer’s evening in June. The lights were bright and the music loud. The fact that it was the evening made it somehow more magical, for a child there is something unknown and exciting about when the day comes to a close and the sun goes down. It is after all at night that Father Christmas, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy all make their mysterious appearances that - despite our best efforts to stay awake – we always missed. So going to Zippos Circus at nightfall made it all the more exhilarating and thrilling. We handed over our tickets and walked into the Big Top. Once the audience had taken their seats, the lights went down and everything went quiet. I had been to the theatre in the past, but I knew before it had even started this was altogether different: I could feel the hum in the air, as though everyone in the audience had drawn their breath - just as people do before something exciting begins. The ringmaster entered. Resplendent. He welcomed us all and, ever the perfect host, introduced the many acts. The variety was almost too much for my young imagination: from clowns to fire-eaters; trapeze artists to a unicyclist, animal trainers to tight-rope walkers, performing tricks I did not even know were possible. But there was one act that soared high above the rest in my mind, an act that for the next
decade I would be dreaming of becoming: the contortionist. Just one loan woman in the middle of the tent, yet she was demanding the whole audience’s attention. Time seemed to slowdown, the onlookers were quiet yet tense. She began by balancing on two tiny pieces of wood elevated from the ground by thin metal poles, holding her entire body weight on her hands. This was impressive enough to me, but she did not stop there. Then came the real skill. She began to bend and stretch her body in ways that did not seem natural. Bending her back in half so far she touched her forehead with her toes. Then she removed the wooden blocks and began to further twist and warp her body into strange shapes, as though she did not even have bones. I was mesmerised. A small transparent box was then brought onto the stage. I sat confused at why they were interrupting her act by drawing attention to a silly little box. Then it became clear. She lay with her chest on the floor and brought her legs over her head to touch the ground in front of her face. She shuffled forward towards the tiny box, contorted as though she was a rag doll. What was most extraordinary was she did not appear to be in pain; in fact she looked quite relaxed. As though she was not doing anything unusual, just part of her everyday routine, which of course it was. Her strength and control was so impressive; I sat awestruck, unable to draw my eyes away from this amazing spectacle. It was freaky, abnormal, weird … incredible.
My destiny became clear to me: “This is what I will do,” I thought. “I am going to be in the Circus!” As the show continued I sat there, pondering my future, taking it all in. “How could I be in the circus, how could I become one of them?” ------------------Fourteen years later, there I stood again, looking up at the red and yellow sign. I had steeled myself for disappointment. I had grown up, travelled the world, seen more spectacles, met more people; I was not going to be impressed by a travelling circus anymore. I had the typical arrogance of every young adult revisiting their youth. Believing myself to be too old and wise for this pastime - the feeling you get when watching one of your favourite childhood movies. Instead of sitting there open-mouthed in wonder, you pick apart everything you once so wholly and unquestionably believed. This time it was a crisp autumn day in November. My favourite type of day - when the sun is shining, the sky is bluer than blue, but you still need to wrap your woollen scarf round tight all the way to your nose. I drove myself to Old Deer Park - the new location for the circus but still equally close to my house - parked and crossed the road to the ticket booth. “One ticket for the 12 0’clock showing please,” I said. I had decided to go alone, something I would obviously never have done as a child, but it felt right. I could quietly soak up the experience without having to analyse or discuss
what I felt with someone else. I could just enjoy it, on my own, in my own little world. Outside I was hit by the smell of horse manure, one of those smells that should be disgusting but is strangely pleasant. I walked out of the sun and into the big blue and yellow tent. I felt the sawdust beneath my feet, now the manure smell had given way to popcorn and candyfloss. A heavily made up, extremely smiley woman appeared, and led me through the red velvet curtains and into the main arena. There it was: the stage, the audience, the circus folk. They were selling flashing glowing sticks, once taken home sit in a draw with no real use. Everything just as it should be, although somewhat smaller than I remember. I was struck by the rustic and worn feel of it all, not something I would have noticed as a child, but you could tell this was a circus that truly travelled the length and breadth of the country, the way a traditional circus should. It began with the clowns whistling and running into the centre of the tent. A man and women both dressed in red and white, the infamous red clown nose slightly smaller than I remembered, the shapeless baby grow giving way to a tutu for the woman and red jeans for the man. These were clowns with a modern flare. After the clowns, the acts flowed with ease from one to the next. Every person bounced off each other, knowing exactly where the next was going to step or when they were going to speak. Each prop or apparatus was brought on at exactly the right time, each person pre-empting the next ones step. They were a well-oiled machine, run-
“My destiny became clear to me: “This is what I will do,” I thought “I am going to be in the Circus!”
ning smoothly, slick and with ease. I could see the sense of family, the stolen glances to one another, a little smile, even a laugh. This is what drew me in all those years ago, the thought of being there on stage, performing, making people happy, and doing it all with your friends. It felt more intimate this time round, personal. In the intermission the ringmaster called out two names, two little twin sisters who were celebrating their fourth birthday. Their parents brought them down to the stage. They were dressed in red and sparkly dresses and we all sat and sang happy birthday to them. I could not help but smile - that was me once. I felt connected to it all, as though for those two hours we were part of the circus family. There were new acts of course, as their family adapted and changed through the years, people would come and go bringing with them new skills. I was not quite sat there in astonishment and shock as my seven year old self had been. I had seen more impressive acts in the time that had passed – courtesy of the internet. I admired their skill; I knew that it must have taken hours of practise to perfect that strange foot juggling, and riding a motorbike in a loop so that they went upside down. There was one thing missing though, the act, to me, that was the reason for revisiting the circus. It was what I had dreamt of becoming for years, the strange and bending contortionist. I should have been devastated, heart broken that she
was not there. The circus with no contortionist. You could not have Broadway without the singing. Yet somehow it did not seem to matter. The circus still had the ability to capture my attention and not let go, contortionist or no contortionist. I still laughed, and sat there grinning from ear to ear. It was not about that one particular act anymore, it was about being transported back to being that naively optimistic child again. About the feeling I got on that first visit to the circus, a warm feeling in my stomach, an excited buzz and a smile I could not wipe off my face. The truth is I still wanted to run away with the circus, nothing had changed, not really. As it drew to an end all the acts came on the stage to take their bows, the audience clapped and cheered standing up to show their appreciation. The ringmaster took to the stage once more. Here he was: the man of the hour, the master of ceremonies. He removed his hat, gestured to the audience, bowed his head, looked up and said: “Remember you’re never too old, you’re never too young and you’re never too cool, to come to the circus.” I could have sworn he was looking right at me.
The ever changing faces of the clown clown make up is no longer refined to the traditional designs we are used to. new modern twists on the classic styles help to keep the circus world up to date!
we are all just clowning around
Le Cirque des reves
Hazel Wears: Knitted Sky Blue Cropped Jumper, Urban Outfitters, £30 Black And White American Flag Shorts, H&M, £35 Turquoise Converse, Converse, £38
Hazel Wears: Electric Blue Silk Playsuit, H&M, £30 Black Sculpted Blazer, Zara, £45 Eye Catching Orange and Pink Wedge Heels, Topshop, £45
Hazel Wears: Midnight Blue Sequin Dress, Urban Outfitters, £40 Black Leather Biker Gilet, All Saints, £250 Black Suede Heels, Topshop, £45
"time is a circus, always packing up and moving away"