Post by theflyingfreak on Jun 28, 2007 10:37:38 GMT -5
New York Times
June 17, 2007
By JOY GOODWIN
Willkommen! Life Is a Spiegeltent, Old Chum
VALLEJO GANTNER is a devotee of spiegeltents: those 1920s European traveling pavilions of teak and leaded glass, velvet and brocade, banquettes and beveled mirrors. He knows the handful of owners in Belgium and the Netherlands who rent the last surviving spiegeltents to a lucky few cities each year. And in his native Melbourne and in his former job as director of the Dublin Fringe Festival, he produced shows in spiegeltents that drew throngs.
So when he first learned that a fellow Australian and circus aficionado, Ross Mollison, was planning to produce a spiegeltent event in New York, he was miffed. "I kind of went: 'Aargh! They don't know what they're doing. They need me,' " Mr. Gantner said recently, sitting in a downtown cafe.
"Which was true," said the amiable Mr. Mollison, who was sitting next to him.
Wearing an open-collared shirt and jacket, Mr. Mollison, 43, looked every inch the dapper producer of the Off Broadway hit "Slava's Snowshow." A lover of Broadway and big-top circuses, he takes inspiration from Cirque du Soleil. Mr. Gantner, 33, wore a significantly louder, open-collared shirt and no jacket. Given that his primary job is being artistic director of the avant-garde P.S. 122 in the East Village, he gets his inspiration from decidedly more provocative places.
"We never agree," Mr. Gantner said, laughing.
Mr. Mollison corrected him: "Hardly ever."
Yet the two have shared producer duties on the staggeringly ambitious project they call Spiegelworld, a blend of cabaret, circus and burlesque housed in an authentic spiegeltent on a pier near the South Street Seaport. In its inaugural season last summer, wildfire word of mouth lured thousands of curious New Yorkers to the tent, under the Brooklyn Bridge. They said that despite limited advertising, "Absinthe," Spiegelworld's risqué vaudeville cabaret, played to capacity crowds from the third week of its two-month run. This year an expanded season of Spiegelworld will run for three months, from July 2 through Sept. 30.
Mr. Gantner and Mr. Mollison insist they did not choose their Spiegelworld's location — a disused concrete slab tucked away behind the recently vacated Fulton Fish Market — for its louche glamour. It was a matter of hard practicalities: finding a Manhattan site with enough space, infrastructure and distance from neighboring residential buildings.
Still, the location has a certain mystique. "It turned out to be quite a theatrical entrance," Mr. Mollison said. "Down this back alley—— "
"And past two fairly pungent old fish markets and three enormous compactors, with these mutant pigeons kind of stumbling around," Mr. Gantner continued. "Then suddenly you saw this beautiful garden."
Working with Jon Bloostein, the owner of the Heartland Brewery, the duo transformed the pier into a breezy outdoor beer garden, framed by a striking vista of three glittering bridges and the East River. At the far end one of the last of the world's remaining spiegeltents beckoned, its facade glowing gold against the evening sky.
Inside the ornate, intimate spiegeltent (from the Flemish for "tent of mirrors") none of the 250 chairs ringing the stage was more than 20 feet from the performers, and a mood of Weimar decadence prevailed. A brunette in red latex swallowed a pair of scissors, a nude burlesque artist pulled her handkerchief from some unexpected places, and a well-muscled male contortionist rose out of a bathtub, splashing the first row.
Mr. Gantner and Mr. Mollison were satisfied with last year's "Absinthe" lineup, which they put together in a few months. But since both are the sort of people who have knife jugglers and contortionists in their Rolodexes, they were eager to organize a new "Absinthe" for this season.
Some rules applied. "There can be a touch of Old World carnie to the acts, but they've got to be unique," Mr. Mollison emphasized. "For instance we would never have someone do the blockhead."
Mr. Gantner added helpfully: "The one where they take a hammer and hit a nail into their nose."
Mr. Mollison continued: "For instance last year we had a sword swallower, Miss Behave. But she stubbed out a cigar on her tongue, downed a pint of beer, and then stuck the leg of a table down her throat. So that was a very unique act."
Mr. Gantner said: "It also takes a certain kind of presence. These performers are going to be four feet away from the audience in a way that you never would be in a 2,500-seat big top. So 'Absinthe' is about eye contact and flirting with the audience in a very overt sort of way."
The performers in the new "Absinthe" hail from the far corners of the world and the remote reaches of the producers' memories. Each year Mr. Mollison attends several major circus competitions, scouting performers in places like Paris, Montreal, Las Vegas, Sydney and China. Some years ago, at the Schauspielhaus in Vienna, he spotted the gender-bending torch singer Paul Capsis, who will make his New York debut performing in "Absinthe."
Two years ago at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival Mr. Gantner and Mr. Mollison were sitting together in a spiegeltent cabaret when the Willers were announced as the next act. "It's the oldest style act you can imagine," Mr. Gantner said. "It's roller skating, an older English couple. And I've never been so terrified."
This summer the Willers will join the "Absinthe" lineup alongside Mr. Capsis, an Armenian clown, a Moroccan aerialist and a half-dozen other acts. (Wayne Harrison, formerly of the Sydney Theater Company, will direct.) Some were discovered on scouting expeditions; others came from referrals. As members of a close-knit international group of serious circus enthusiasts, the producers say they receive e-mail messages and phone calls every week tipping them off to promising new acts.
"It's the way of the circus," Mr. Gantner said. "Everybody knows everybody. And now, because of YouTube, everybody posts videos of their acts online."
Still, it was while attending a theater festival in Bogotá, Colombia, that Mr. Gantner encountered Les Sept Doigts de la Main ("The Seven Fingers"), a small French-Canadian circus company, in a nearby stadium. On the way out of the show he called Mr. Mollison and said, "We've got to get them for the show."
The producers tracked the company down in Montreal, where its seven members (most formerly of Cirque du Soleil) live collectively in a former nunnery. The Seven Fingers agreed to create a new show for their New York debut. Called "La Vie," it will fill what Mr. Gantner calls "the late-night, dirtier, edgier, funkier slot" after "Absinthe." Set in purgatory, the character-driven "La Vie" is what Mr. Gantner calls a "narrative through-line circus," something, he said, that has never been done in a spiegeltent.
In addition to more than 100 performances each of the revamped "Absinthe" (tickets are $50) and "La Vie" ($25) in a different, larger spiegeltent, this year's Spiegelworld has a lineup of more than 20 concerts ($35). And patrons can stop by the garden for a beer or a meal without a cover charge. Still, Mr. Mollison couldn't help thinking of the act that got away.
"We nearly had it," he said regretfully. "He's a hand balancer, and about 30 seconds into the act his trained rat appears. And I just thought: In a spiegeltent, in New York, on a pier, what could be better? The audience will just —— "
"Run," Mr. Gantner put in.
"Audiences go nuts for it," Mr. Mollison persisted. "But the rat died on us, and it takes like six months to train a new rat."
"And there are no guarantees on the rat," Mr. Gantner added.
June 17, 2007
By JOY GOODWIN
Willkommen! Life Is a Spiegeltent, Old Chum
VALLEJO GANTNER is a devotee of spiegeltents: those 1920s European traveling pavilions of teak and leaded glass, velvet and brocade, banquettes and beveled mirrors. He knows the handful of owners in Belgium and the Netherlands who rent the last surviving spiegeltents to a lucky few cities each year. And in his native Melbourne and in his former job as director of the Dublin Fringe Festival, he produced shows in spiegeltents that drew throngs.
So when he first learned that a fellow Australian and circus aficionado, Ross Mollison, was planning to produce a spiegeltent event in New York, he was miffed. "I kind of went: 'Aargh! They don't know what they're doing. They need me,' " Mr. Gantner said recently, sitting in a downtown cafe.
"Which was true," said the amiable Mr. Mollison, who was sitting next to him.
Wearing an open-collared shirt and jacket, Mr. Mollison, 43, looked every inch the dapper producer of the Off Broadway hit "Slava's Snowshow." A lover of Broadway and big-top circuses, he takes inspiration from Cirque du Soleil. Mr. Gantner, 33, wore a significantly louder, open-collared shirt and no jacket. Given that his primary job is being artistic director of the avant-garde P.S. 122 in the East Village, he gets his inspiration from decidedly more provocative places.
"We never agree," Mr. Gantner said, laughing.
Mr. Mollison corrected him: "Hardly ever."
Yet the two have shared producer duties on the staggeringly ambitious project they call Spiegelworld, a blend of cabaret, circus and burlesque housed in an authentic spiegeltent on a pier near the South Street Seaport. In its inaugural season last summer, wildfire word of mouth lured thousands of curious New Yorkers to the tent, under the Brooklyn Bridge. They said that despite limited advertising, "Absinthe," Spiegelworld's risqué vaudeville cabaret, played to capacity crowds from the third week of its two-month run. This year an expanded season of Spiegelworld will run for three months, from July 2 through Sept. 30.
Mr. Gantner and Mr. Mollison insist they did not choose their Spiegelworld's location — a disused concrete slab tucked away behind the recently vacated Fulton Fish Market — for its louche glamour. It was a matter of hard practicalities: finding a Manhattan site with enough space, infrastructure and distance from neighboring residential buildings.
Still, the location has a certain mystique. "It turned out to be quite a theatrical entrance," Mr. Mollison said. "Down this back alley—— "
"And past two fairly pungent old fish markets and three enormous compactors, with these mutant pigeons kind of stumbling around," Mr. Gantner continued. "Then suddenly you saw this beautiful garden."
Working with Jon Bloostein, the owner of the Heartland Brewery, the duo transformed the pier into a breezy outdoor beer garden, framed by a striking vista of three glittering bridges and the East River. At the far end one of the last of the world's remaining spiegeltents beckoned, its facade glowing gold against the evening sky.
Inside the ornate, intimate spiegeltent (from the Flemish for "tent of mirrors") none of the 250 chairs ringing the stage was more than 20 feet from the performers, and a mood of Weimar decadence prevailed. A brunette in red latex swallowed a pair of scissors, a nude burlesque artist pulled her handkerchief from some unexpected places, and a well-muscled male contortionist rose out of a bathtub, splashing the first row.
Mr. Gantner and Mr. Mollison were satisfied with last year's "Absinthe" lineup, which they put together in a few months. But since both are the sort of people who have knife jugglers and contortionists in their Rolodexes, they were eager to organize a new "Absinthe" for this season.
Some rules applied. "There can be a touch of Old World carnie to the acts, but they've got to be unique," Mr. Mollison emphasized. "For instance we would never have someone do the blockhead."
Mr. Gantner added helpfully: "The one where they take a hammer and hit a nail into their nose."
Mr. Mollison continued: "For instance last year we had a sword swallower, Miss Behave. But she stubbed out a cigar on her tongue, downed a pint of beer, and then stuck the leg of a table down her throat. So that was a very unique act."
Mr. Gantner said: "It also takes a certain kind of presence. These performers are going to be four feet away from the audience in a way that you never would be in a 2,500-seat big top. So 'Absinthe' is about eye contact and flirting with the audience in a very overt sort of way."
The performers in the new "Absinthe" hail from the far corners of the world and the remote reaches of the producers' memories. Each year Mr. Mollison attends several major circus competitions, scouting performers in places like Paris, Montreal, Las Vegas, Sydney and China. Some years ago, at the Schauspielhaus in Vienna, he spotted the gender-bending torch singer Paul Capsis, who will make his New York debut performing in "Absinthe."
Two years ago at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival Mr. Gantner and Mr. Mollison were sitting together in a spiegeltent cabaret when the Willers were announced as the next act. "It's the oldest style act you can imagine," Mr. Gantner said. "It's roller skating, an older English couple. And I've never been so terrified."
This summer the Willers will join the "Absinthe" lineup alongside Mr. Capsis, an Armenian clown, a Moroccan aerialist and a half-dozen other acts. (Wayne Harrison, formerly of the Sydney Theater Company, will direct.) Some were discovered on scouting expeditions; others came from referrals. As members of a close-knit international group of serious circus enthusiasts, the producers say they receive e-mail messages and phone calls every week tipping them off to promising new acts.
"It's the way of the circus," Mr. Gantner said. "Everybody knows everybody. And now, because of YouTube, everybody posts videos of their acts online."
Still, it was while attending a theater festival in Bogotá, Colombia, that Mr. Gantner encountered Les Sept Doigts de la Main ("The Seven Fingers"), a small French-Canadian circus company, in a nearby stadium. On the way out of the show he called Mr. Mollison and said, "We've got to get them for the show."
The producers tracked the company down in Montreal, where its seven members (most formerly of Cirque du Soleil) live collectively in a former nunnery. The Seven Fingers agreed to create a new show for their New York debut. Called "La Vie," it will fill what Mr. Gantner calls "the late-night, dirtier, edgier, funkier slot" after "Absinthe." Set in purgatory, the character-driven "La Vie" is what Mr. Gantner calls a "narrative through-line circus," something, he said, that has never been done in a spiegeltent.
In addition to more than 100 performances each of the revamped "Absinthe" (tickets are $50) and "La Vie" ($25) in a different, larger spiegeltent, this year's Spiegelworld has a lineup of more than 20 concerts ($35). And patrons can stop by the garden for a beer or a meal without a cover charge. Still, Mr. Mollison couldn't help thinking of the act that got away.
"We nearly had it," he said regretfully. "He's a hand balancer, and about 30 seconds into the act his trained rat appears. And I just thought: In a spiegeltent, in New York, on a pier, what could be better? The audience will just —— "
"Run," Mr. Gantner put in.
"Audiences go nuts for it," Mr. Mollison persisted. "But the rat died on us, and it takes like six months to train a new rat."
"And there are no guarantees on the rat," Mr. Gantner added.