Circus Days

Jojo Circus Tent on the Rappenhof

It’s been quiet on our front, unless you’ve been following my Tumblr. I promise you the silence is about to change.

It always goes a bit quiet when I go away to my circus school. In a nutshell: last year I began a circus apprenticeship like no other! Once every 1-2 months, circus people from all over Germany travel down to Schwäbisch Gmünd / Gschwend to the Jojo School for Circus and Theater Arts. I am training there to be a circus & theater pedagogue, and in June I will be done and get my degree.

I drove to the circus school with my friend Hannes, here posing with his new baby. He’ll be living in his car all summer while he tours major European cities and does street performances. You can’t miss him: he’s 2 meters tall

Each week at the circus school is dedicated to a different circus discipline. So far we’ve covered acrobatics, aerial artistry, juggling (I missed it because I was in Perú, so I’ll be taking that course in July) and clowns. Last week, we dipped more into the theater world… into body theater!

waiting for class to begin

We began with lessons on performance make-up. First the teacher painted on me to prove her point: on the right side, you’ll see that lighter colours make my eyes smaller, while on the left, the darkness makes my left eye larger.

We had great fun painting on one another.

Body theater, also known as figuration, is all about using your body to portray inanimate objects. So, contrary to pantomime, wherein you make your audience believe you have something in your hands, in body theater, you are the thing you have in your hands.

The most popular example is: use your body to portray a towel. We spent large portions of the days pretending to be coats which were then worn by others… Or doors, that were opened… Or chairs that were promptly sat on.

But the real excitement is that in body theater, the inanimate objects are given life. A door will have a character. A coat could love to be worn, thus making coat & wearer look like two best friends going for a stroll. A chair could hate being sat on, and pulls a face or whinges.

a group portraying a woman sitting on a machine in the fitness studio

can you guess the machine here?

Our teacher, Günther Fortmeier, was brilliant, absolutely fun, and if you want to find out more about him, here’s his website:  www.gjfortmeier.de

He gave us basic lessons in pantomime (pulling the rope… walking behind the wall… throwing a bubble). Best quote: “Your feet are the machines of your brain. Keep them in action. Always keep the machine running!”

Günther teaching us how to portray a wall

At the end of the week, we were split into groups and given a slip of paper with instructions for a body theater piece. Our paper said: Alarm Clock, Get Dressed, Go For a Ride, Museum, Go Home, Television / Sleep. We had two lessons (approx. 4 hours) to write down a choreography and rehearse it. Occasionally, a teacher would pop by to see how far along we were, give us some ideas and direct a bit, and leave us again to cause trouble on our own.

On Thursday afternoon, we performed for the entire class. For you, I filmed our piece! So that you can get a basic idea of body theater / figuration… Now, remember I warned you: we portray everything with our bodies. An unenlightened person will think we’re complete nutters. You, however, understand exactly what’s going on.

Have fun?

Every Thursday evening is Open Stage Night at the Jojo Circus School. It’s created 100% by the students; the teachers just come, watch and enjoy. Sometimes someone will perform an excerpt from their show, but mostly the Open Stage is full of jugglers or acrobats who teamed up at the beginning of the week and rehearsed all week. We try to incorporate the things we learnt, so this Open Stage was full of pantomime & body theater.

I signed up for my first aerial performance at the Open Stage. Because the main tent was always occupied for classes, I couldn’t rehearse until Thursday afternoon, so I was quite nervous. My good friend & roommate Lothar did a bit of excellent directing and thus boosted my confidence tremendously. So I asked him to be backstage before I go on, which he was, and he gave me a massive hug.

Lothar & I at a stilts workshop on Tuesday night

again: the tent where we held our Open Stage

A friend filmed my performance for the blog. Unfortunately it’s a bit dark, we didn’t have a spotlight operator that night and I wore black. But I trust you can still see enough. I wish you very happy viewing!

Our next module in June will be our last. At the end of it, we’ll graduate as circus & theater pedagogues. Some people are talking about doing the additional courses, not just for the learning value but also as a way to see each other again…

It will be very hard to say goodbye.

cuddle puddle

But before that happens…

HERE IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!

Official Press Picture

On the 14th (Friday) and 15th (Saturday) June at 8pm, my class will graduate, and our graduation ceremony is a circus performance in the Big Top. That’s right! Over 10 days in June, we’ll write, prepare and rehearse a splendid evening show JUST FOR YOU.

It will take place at the very place where we’ve been receiving our circus lessons: the Rappenhof by Gschwend (near Schwäbisch Gmünd). We’re a bit in the middle of nowhere, but any car navigation system will find it. Also, we offer bus shuttles leaving from Schwäbisch Gmünd to bring you here.

 

OFFICIAL BIT:

Tickets cost € 10 for adults;  € 5 for children

Overnight Opportunity: You can choose to spend the night in a 2-bedroom (adults: € 15 / children: € 12) OR in the Big Top Tent (adults: € 5 / children: € 4) OR in a circus caravan with shower & electricity (adults: € 8 / children: € 4).

Food:  Breakfast is € 5, lunch is € 8, dinner is € 6. On Saturday, there will be a buffet for € 12, where you’ll wine & dine with us and party afterwards but! the buffet doesn’t open until approx. 10:30 pm, so bring a snack. Breakfast on Sunday is € 5.

DVD:  You can order a DVD of our performance for € 10.

If you know already that you want to come, then SEND ME AN EMAIL (rittisoncco@gmail.com) and I’ll book your room / caravan / tent space for you. Be sure to tell me in your email if you want food, the DVD, and how many tickets I should reserve for you.

Here’s a thing: my mother will be flying in from Peru to see this show. So if you’ve been to my performances and have seen my father, here’s your chance to meet my mother.

If you have any questions, write me at rittisoncco@gmail.com or over twitter (@rittisoncco), because those are the instant messages I receive the quickest.

I’m working on a flyer for our performance. Once it’s done, I’ll post it and you can download it, send it to your friends, and they can all come and have a ball! I’ll introduce you to the lovely circus people, and trust me, the performance will be stunning. We have a very lovely & talented group.

WHAT’S NEXT???

Last night, I began working with musician & sound artist Jens Krijer on an AUDIO BOOK for Qayqa!

Jens directing

When I asked on the blog what you’d like as a reward for my crowdfunding, one of the things you said was that you’d like an audio book of Qayqa.

I want to give that to you. I’m going to give you an audio book work-in-progress of however far we get.

We want to record the entire book, and have calculated that that would be a box set of 6 CDs! But we’ve only just begun, and while we’re on fire to do an audio book, it’s momentarily a side-project because publishing the book Qayqa has priority.

So if you back my crowdfunding project, you’ll get an exclusive sneak-peak of the upcoming Qayqa audio book! Everyone else will have to wait months for it.

pink buttons!

I’ll be filming the crowdfunding video soon, so that we can kickstart the kickstarter! Again, if you want immediate updates, follow my Tumblr!

That’s it from me for now, dear friends. You’ll be hearing more from me soon. The summer is beginning, I’m cracking my bones, and I’m feeling a new energy. This was the harshest, longest, darkest winter of my life. I’ve never known loneliness like this before. I couldn’t even work.

But you see: I’m getting back to work now.

As always, I love your comments. You can reach me here – or email / tweet / facebook me anytime. I’m here.

Love.

“Tree” from Overripe Fruits

Listen to the story while you’re reading! Written & read by:  Ritti Soncco  //  Recorded, Mastered, Sounds & Directed by:  Andreas Usenbenz

Every now and then, I find myself unsatisfied in the shower. I stand motionless as the pearls of water shudder down my crossed arms, bloated stomach, and unshaven legs. My eyebrows arch together as though they were knit to the bridge of my nose. My silence is the worst thing about my motionless dissatisfaction. It is the worst weapon I use against myself. The water scratches down my arms, rolls down my stomach, shimmies between stubble hair on my legs, marches across my feet – directly into the gutter. And I certainly don’t miss it.

*

Today I sat outside my house. My father is at work and stupid John is watching me. My dog is barking at him. Good. He is stupid. He says, “Do you have nice things for me?” I say no, toys are not nice, go away stupid John.

I sit on the patio, my skinny legs in blue tights, my hair loose and in knots. I have nine years that are mine. And when I look up, there is my tree. I will never love another tree like I love you. I already know that.

It holds court as I woo it, “You are nameless and you are mine. You are fruitless and you are loved.”

With my skinny legs in blue tights, I tippy toed to its black roots, grab a course branch and swing. My legs bend at the knees and I blissfully cling. I am the overripe fruit this tree will never drop.

I love its bark. Wide protruding black ridges that make swinging like this hard and soft at once. I love that it toughens my palms. All trees in the world should feel like this, and none of them do.

In my little blue tights and oversized shirt, I hear a deep rumble. I instantly let go of the branch, land a few feet away, slap my red palms together. No one else is around to have heard it. So I lift my nose up, close my eyes and concentrate. That smell… I had smelt the rain in the air for days. Now it was here.

Yes! Yes, there it was! My eyes opened to the dark formations in the sky and my heart waddled, leapt, paraded. My feet heard its march and stumbled into action. I ran around around the tree, springing over the black roots. My lips parted, released a little Indian’s little cry of little glee at a little war – then I stopped. My heart banged against my ribcage with sticks, demanding to be released, to be held in the wind bringing the purest air, the air scented with the sweet fragrance of rain. A windy kiss, the holy matrimony of promise made and promise kept. The rain was coming!

Wide-eyed in my little head, I stared rooted among roots, at the headstrong gathering of clouds stomping from the horizon. The leaves began to quiver, one by one, in an orchestra of movement. Little I and a tree watch the world focus on the clouds and the clouds focus on us.

Deliberate formations had gathered to build an army. Like bad-tempered frogs, they squatted on top of each other, moving as one. They stared straight ahead, straight at me and my tree, and ignored left and right. Most birds fled in awe. The clouds ignored the squawking of the adrenaline-junkie birds that stayed; these birds rose to meet the storm, dove, were flung, spun, twisted, regained control and rose again.

The clouds crept slowly, never losing focus or formation. They were fat and beautiful with a fanfare of dark rumbles that both excited and terrified me. They seemed to grow darker by the minute, taking the whole sky to a darker regime. I stood far below them, my clothes shivering in awe. Looking up, all I could see was their black bellies, frog stares and frog stomps. Then the clouds began their song.

Deep, deeper rumbles, and the wind became possessed. It screeched and screamed, spinning wildly against the garden. It threw itself headfirst into masses of leaves on the ground, kicking them up into the air. It flung into flexible twists, momentarily possessing everything around me, moving so fast I suddenly understood why we can’t see the wind.

How I long to be possessed by that wind! To be carried or thrown into the air like a weightless leaf! I long to run in blind circles under a discord harmony of my exalted screams – but I stay, shivering, desperately awaiting the climax of the clouds’ arrival, and the release of that rain. Their release will release me too!

The clouds mock my expectation: instead of a violent downpour vicious enough to tumble all the saints down from the heavens… The clouds whisper the softest rain. A rain so gentle and so steady, it harmonizes with the sun, flooding many new rainbows onto my garden, that glisten and pose before softly disappearing into my imagination.

I stand amazed. I decide to suck up as much air as I can. I run… Run into the steady shower, the warm raindrops, the glittering twinkles. I run out… Out of the whispered rain and back into my garden full of statues of rainbows…

My tree laughs at my game. It laughs as the rain pats its hard and soft bark, smoothing the ridges, worrying the leaves. As warm as its lava, as warm as my own blood, the rain embraces my tree. I run to it to join the embrace, throwing my hands up. My tree bends its branches to pick me up and carry me as swiftly as I dare, to its highest branch. I stand like a sailor on the highest mast, little me with nine years that are my own.

Up there: to be rocked by the wind in a vicious but not malicious cradle. To be drenched in the rain. To be dried in the sun. To sing a discord harmony of screams and laughs. Up up there, my tree holds me in my sweetest memory of childhood.

*

Every now and then, I close my eyes in the shower. I lean my head back against the arch of my neck, and feel the shower’s pearls run down my matted, tangled hair and down my back. I bow my head forward and the pearls race to my forehead, hold hands and jump-! I gasp. The water massages me, holds me. Each pearl pauses mid-air to shine on my body, before sliding down skillfully. I dance in the shower of water, in a tiny white tiled shower somewhere, and laugh because I can remember.

This story is timeless to me and is one of my personal favourites. To me, it summarizes all the impressions, hardships and joys of what a childhood in Africa really means: the connection to nature. There were no cinemas, no bars, no discos – nothing. We had to make our own fun. Nature was all around us and it became our natural playmate. It was all about avoiding snakes, climbing trees, wading in rivers trying to spot alligators, chasing bats away so that we could pluck mangoes. And in all my time in Africa, I was ill less than I have been since I moved to Europe.

I remember once, as I walked home for 3 hours in the blaze of the midday African sun, how it forced me to my knees and I had to summon all the strength left in me to just keep walking. I remember thinking: “If I can survive this African sun, then I can survive anything.” My childhood gave me inner strength, and the unshakable sense that nature is my brother.

The Audio Version you heard is a work-in-progress with the sound artist Andreas Usenbenz. Please visit his Website here and check out his amazing work. Andreas & I are working on an Audio Book of “Overripe Fruits” and “Tree” is our first collaboration. It’s a piece I am very happy with. So if you agree, please leave your comment here, visit his site, or follow him on Twitter.

Here’s to Africa. Rise, black star, rise up. You are the heart of the house, the blood in our veins, and the Mother of us all. Thank you for my beautiful childhood.