Corteo: this is supposed to be a funeral?
13 Dec 2018

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Lucas Saporiti

Being lucky enough to have already seen the arena production of Corteo when it opened in Oshawa in June, I would refer readers to the rapturous review I wrote then, "Corteo: magic exists."

Corteo is extravagantly spectacular with circus acts appearing, dazzling the audience, then blending back into the storyline.

It is still true. Six months on the road and many performances later, Corteo is still a spectacular and dazzling show, but it has evolved in interesting ways and seeing it from a slightly different vantage point, offers a slightly different experience. Most crucially, the plotline has become clearer with more emphasis on the theme. Corteo has become more theatrical with Maruo the clown, Mauro Mozzani, whose fever dream from beyond the grave this is, speaking more directly to the audience and becoming more of a bemused guide through the intricacies of his past, present and future.

Part of that may be that we were in seats farther from the stage - not to imply that there is an inferior seat anywhere in the vastness of the Scotiabank Arena, the central catwalk offers unobstructed views for all - emphasizing the proscenium jewel box effect. As in a traditional three-ring circus, the eye is drawn everywhere at once, at first where the lights focus our attention, and then to the details unfolding everywhere and anywhere at once. On first viewing I was absorbed in the skill and excitement of a trio of jugglers, the repeat viewing revealed a metaphor for the competitive nature of three rings and for the circus itself in modern times.

The thrills, chills and a delicious undertone of melancholy wonder and nostalgia evoked by the jugglers, are emphasized by dazzling retro-Pierrot costumes by Dominique Lemieux. The overall design is theatrical '60s via Fellini with the throbbing la dolce vita sexuality just barely contained. What is lost by being spectators instead of near participants, is made up for by an overview that emphasizes just how much skill and care has gone into creating and performing Corteo. And when Mauro - SPOILER ALERT! - ascends into the heavens on his bicycle, having finally acquired his angel wings, it is a moment of ecstatic joy, not even vaguely funereal.

The acts previously cited are still incredible but a different perspective adds new emphasis. The suspended pole act that ascends to the heavens takes on a deeper rich tone when the baritone singer with his erotic crescendoing lament resides in one's peripheral vision. The vocal stamina of the silk act performer is even more astounding than her circus skills. The strap act that ascends from Maruo's possible descent to hell to then explode into glitter is still upstaged, even at a distance, by the musculature of the male half of the duo's chest. The same enhances the Cyr wheel routine.

The hula-hoop and ladder acts are nothing short of astonishing with extra poignancy for both performers achieving Maruo's goal as their climax. The Tournik show finale actually gains power when seen from slightly above, the intricate patterns of airborne acrobats gains a grace that belies the energy and stamina it must take to perform. Neither clown act, both of which have gained greater prominence, seemed particularly inspired or coherent to me, but the youngster behind me laughed so hard I suspect the seat he was on will need to be wiped down before the next show.

And Valentina Paylevanya still walks away with the show whenever she appears. Or flies way with it as she soars and floats over the audience. There are also intriguing interactions between her and the giant clown, Victorino Lujan, that hint at something more resonant and haunting that this arena version is unable to explore by virtue of being streamlined for a mass audience. But the spectacle - and with a cast of 50 and multiple technical marvels a minute - never overwhelms. Performer Francis Croft told me,

I think this is the richness of Corteo, we're not creatures, we're called by our own names, I'm Francis on stage acting as I would react.

which is accurate in the context of a superhuman gymnast. Or a giant clown. Or a clown meandering upside down on a tightrope. The magical, the unreal, the other, the physically impossible, is made manifest and deeply human. We may never get to be them or understand them, but Corteo pulls us into their lives and allows us a glimpse into a world of wonders where the death of a clown, where death itself, is a reason to celebrate life. When the symphonically whistling ringmaster chastises, "This is supposed to be a funeral," don't believe him for a second.