Crec que està prou ben feta, tot i que una mica superficial (jo espero donar la replica d'aquí a una setmana). Per cert, si noteu alguna cosa rara, no és que faci moltes faltes d'ortografia, és que està en anglès.
The circus is back!
Isa Tousignant
Finally, the Cirque puts on a show to write home about
I kvetched, I bitched, I complained, I wrote - I even got into fights. Over the last couple years, I voiced my disappointment with what the Cirque du Soleil was becoming so loudly that it's kind of ridiculous, considering how little I actually cared at the outset. Over time, though, it became an undeniable irritant. It became symbolic: The Cirque du Soleil, which I remembered with so much rosy-coloured amazement from my childhood, was selling out to the bullshit of Vegas, forgoing acrobatics and human feats for the sake of unbearable music and flash. But at last - far be it from me to take it egotistically and conclude they listened to me, oh no - it has dawned on them. Circus is about circus. And the circus is back in town.
Kooza, the Cirque's latest touring show, launched under the big top in the Old Port on May 3 to the roaring acclaim of hundreds of awestruck spectators. Every single person in the house, which featured kids of all ages, left with that cherished sense of possibility that truly extraordinary physical abilities instil: the superhuman potential in all of us.
The show, designed like a classical circus around a large circular stage, pulls out all the stops. There are contortionists of mind-boggling capacities (true human pretzels - where do they fit their organs?), an incredible balance artist who stacked a dozen chairs on top of one another and balanced atop them, a team of four tightrope walkers that made us fear for their lives, a gorgeous unicycling duo, the world's
most impressive juggler and a bevy of preposterous clowns. The laughs are as plentiful as the gasps of fear, and as genuine - there are times, I swear, when you're not sure they'll make it. There is a distinct paucity of safety ropes, while the risks taken seem higher than ever in recent memory: a trapeze artist, fiery in her red sequins, flew so high above my head, unattached and screaming like a daredevil banshee, that she both made me want to take cover and experience life through her eyes. The pièce de résistance, the Wheel of Death (which made its debut in Kà), has two acrobats running and hopping and skipping - yes, with ropes - above, inside, over and under a huge, 20-foot-high spinning wheel contraption. No one exhaled during that whole act.
Of course, there's still the Cirque's signature cheesified world music, as well as a severe dose of exoticization - this time it's India - but as backdrops to the incredible feats enacted by their world-class talent pool, they are both entirely inoffensive. Kooza's success rests simply in the winning equation: circus first, Cirque second.
The circus is back!
Isa Tousignant
Finally, the Cirque puts on a show to write home about
I kvetched, I bitched, I complained, I wrote - I even got into fights. Over the last couple years, I voiced my disappointment with what the Cirque du Soleil was becoming so loudly that it's kind of ridiculous, considering how little I actually cared at the outset. Over time, though, it became an undeniable irritant. It became symbolic: The Cirque du Soleil, which I remembered with so much rosy-coloured amazement from my childhood, was selling out to the bullshit of Vegas, forgoing acrobatics and human feats for the sake of unbearable music and flash. But at last - far be it from me to take it egotistically and conclude they listened to me, oh no - it has dawned on them. Circus is about circus. And the circus is back in town.
Kooza, the Cirque's latest touring show, launched under the big top in the Old Port on May 3 to the roaring acclaim of hundreds of awestruck spectators. Every single person in the house, which featured kids of all ages, left with that cherished sense of possibility that truly extraordinary physical abilities instil: the superhuman potential in all of us.
The show, designed like a classical circus around a large circular stage, pulls out all the stops. There are contortionists of mind-boggling capacities (true human pretzels - where do they fit their organs?), an incredible balance artist who stacked a dozen chairs on top of one another and balanced atop them, a team of four tightrope walkers that made us fear for their lives, a gorgeous unicycling duo, the world's
most impressive juggler and a bevy of preposterous clowns. The laughs are as plentiful as the gasps of fear, and as genuine - there are times, I swear, when you're not sure they'll make it. There is a distinct paucity of safety ropes, while the risks taken seem higher than ever in recent memory: a trapeze artist, fiery in her red sequins, flew so high above my head, unattached and screaming like a daredevil banshee, that she both made me want to take cover and experience life through her eyes. The pièce de résistance, the Wheel of Death (which made its debut in Kà), has two acrobats running and hopping and skipping - yes, with ropes - above, inside, over and under a huge, 20-foot-high spinning wheel contraption. No one exhaled during that whole act.
Of course, there's still the Cirque's signature cheesified world music, as well as a severe dose of exoticization - this time it's India - but as backdrops to the incredible feats enacted by their world-class talent pool, they are both entirely inoffensive. Kooza's success rests simply in the winning equation: circus first, Cirque second.
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