Show Pony
That audience, having clearly been won over by their winning personalities, lapped up every moment, hooted with laughter throughout, and repeatedly broke out into spontaneous applause, culminating in a standing ovation
festival
The N&N festival has always placed an emphasis on circus skills in its schedule, with the unapologetic aim if getting the uninitiated into theatre spaces. This year is no exception, with the Gantini Jugglers in the Playhouse and Showdown in the Spiegeltent. More provocatively, however, is Berlin-based company Still Hungry, with Showpony. Lena Ries, Anke van Engelshoven and Romy Seibt deconstructed the circus world, one that - they tell us - chews you up and spits you out when age catches up with you.
All three hover around the mid-forties and notwithstanding their evident skills this is deemed ancient in the circus world, where seemingly effortless movement combines with skimpy costumes and a winning smile to project idealised youthful perfection. What we see early on is just how much hard work goes into effortlessness, as the performers, reminiscent of Penn and Teller explaining how illusions work, reveal the tricks of their trade. Early on the trio make explicit the dehumanising effect of serial performance, donning feathery plumes to represent the eponymous ponies. We all know, as is wryly observed, what they do to old ponies.
Of course, none of them are actually old by any sensible measure, and judging by their antics on stage, neither have they lost the skills which put them in the spotlight and earned them a living. This is the dichotomy confronted throughout the show. In turn, they explain how they came to be performers, a genesis inextricably entwined with challenging childhoods. The circus became their safe space, until they weren't needed - and more poignantly - weren't wanted any more. One might argue the same is true of elite athletes, opera singers or brick layers, but there's a body consciousness at play here that goes beyond the physical limitations of the required task. Bluntly put, they are no longer pretty little girls, to be admired - to be ogled perhaps - for their appearance as much as their ability.
It's an uncomfortable thought that carries greater significance in the slip stream of #MeToo, but the show ultimately veers away from overt social criticism. There is a prevailing sense that for all their misgivings, circus skills remain simply too much fun for them to take such an argument where it leads. Instead, in the performance's closing moments, the narrative shifts towards the obvious close bond between the three of them, as they speculate what genuine old age might bring. It's a part of the show that relies on comedic, rather than circus, skills so perhaps it's no surprise it's the least polished. Ironically, it serves to reinforce how good they are at what they do best.
There were times where the evening's lack of a coherent trajectory frustrated me. Full of interesting ideas but lacking focus, I felt it wasn't quite sure what it wanted to say. And too often, when it did try to say something of weight, an audience so determined to have a good time undermined the poignancy of the underlying message. But don’t mind me, the curmudgeonly critic in the corner. That audience, having clearly been won over by their winning personalities, lapped up every moment, hooted with laughter throughout, and repeatedly broke out into spontaneous applause, culminating in a standing ovation. It's hardly for me to insist they should have been earnestly stroking their chins at the underlying subtext instead
