By Marcus J. Hopkins

Marcus J. Hopkins has been involved in the marching arts as a performer and instructor since 1985. He majored in music education at West Virginia University and was a performer with Dobyns-Bennett Scholastic World Indoor Drumline (2000), The Cadets Drum and Bugle Corps color guard (2001-03), and Ad Astra Per Aspera Independent World Winter Guard (2005).

Avon's (IN) Scholastic World 2018 show is truly a treat to watch, particularly for those of us who grew up going to circuses prior to the proliferation of computer-generated special effects, LED light shows, and digital performance enhancements. 

The show, “The Forgotten Circus,” is a love note to circuses of old, replete with period costuming inspired by late-19th/early-20th-century European circus costuming, a ringmaster, and plenty of “death-defying” feats—all performed with great aplomb by Avon's very capable performers.

The Design

The floor was divided into three rings, in which most of the featured sections performed their tricks to please the audience.

The music, “End Title,” hails from the ending credits for Clint Eastwood’s 1920s period film, "Changeling." I was surprised to discover that Eastwood also scored the film, including this amazing piece of music. The show concept, itself, was inspired by Shelly Love’s short film, "The Forgotten Circus."

Part of the design came from the concept of threes—three featured performers, three acrobats, three strongmen, three rings. For the costuming, each performer’s costume was designed in some way with their personalities in mind: The French harlequin performers were actually gymnasts (typical of court jesters who wore the harlequin pattern); the strongmen costumes, rather than cream and black, were designed with a subtle gold and green, partly due to the gregarious nature of the performers. 

Moreover, each performer’s uniform had trim that complements another performer's uniform, helping to tie together the theme.

However, there was a more melancholy tone to this show, from the music selection to the performance, in general. Where other groups that have performed circus-themed programs in the past have relied upon the “larger than life” technique to goad the audience into applauding, Avon’s show was understated in its desire to please. 

Watching this show was less like being at a live circus and more like viewing a silent movie of a circus from the past. All the stunts and acrobatic tricks are there, but rather than feeling explosive and over the top, there’s a sense of longing to them.

Make no mistake—these performers are imminently talented, and the demand placed upon them by the equipment writing is indeed high. But, what sets this apart from other high-demand shows is the ease with which the performers achieve the work and move seamlessly into the next phrase. Difficult equipment exchanges are pulled off with seemingly little effort, and yet, again, it often feels more as if one is watching a silent film of long-since-gone performers.

The Show

Avon's show was divided into three movements: The first is the circus at the height of its popularity, where audiences are large and performers are rewarded for their feats. The second is about the decline of the circus, with ticket sales flagging—it’s the end of an era, where the performers don’t know if their show will stay open for another night. The third is the love poem to the performers—it’s about the greatness that we remember and the fondness with which we look back upon the performers whose acts filled our hearts with joy. It is at once heartwarming and an unmistakably tearstained farewell.

Movement 1

The show began with three featured performers—a sabre soloist equipped with not one but three sabres, the ringmaster, and an acrobatic dancer. As the sabre soloist released her first toss, under which she turned twice, the ringmaster and acrobat are pushed and pulled into her ring. The soloist then performed two spectacular exchange releases over to them, beginning a small-group lyrical sabre phrase while the ensemble took the floor to perform a gymnastic movement phrase.  

In the background, the remaining performers framed the top of the stage on top of giving gigantic magicians’ chests, creating shapes and silhouettes with their bodies while the phrase resolved.

After another set of sabre tosses with turns underneath them, the chests in the back opened to reveal the flag line, whose silks were printed with differently shaded hues to look like colored circus tents (think darker blues separated by lighter blues in a pinstripe pattern rotating around a central axis). 

While this was the first big introduction of color into the show, even this was understated: the colors were not bold; they were not brash; they enjoyed the simple jewel tones that complemented the uniforms and the overall design motif, rather than the bright, attention-grabbing colors of modern circuses.

The opening third of the show concluded with a beautiful yet tricky sabre feature that relied upon rolling the sabre around the body, the neck, and the wrists.

Movement 2

As the second segment commenced, a rifle was exchanged from the far left ring to ringmaster in the far right ring. The second section was, essentially, an ensemble rifle feature, with various groups performing the work either in an ensemble or in musical canon (the same phrase was performed, but each performer began at a different time).

Most of the performers eventually moved into the center ring, where they performed a well-written rifle feature that incorporated the tent poles that surrounded the center ring, at one point attaching the rifles to the poles by the straps and spinning them down the poles. While underneath, they rolled into a second position split, stood, lifted their rifles up and off the poles, and move into an ensemble toss. 

As the second third of the show winded down, more rifle exchanges are thrown, followed by an ensemble six, after which the rifles exited the stage back to the chests.

Movement 3

With the third and final segment of the show, we began to see a beautifully layered ensemble flag moment, as silks were exchanged out to performers already on the floor. In my conversation with guard director Daniel Wiles, he described the moments in which you can hear the silks over the track sounding like performers crying.

As more silks entered the floor, the work began to face toward the center of the main central circus ring, with an ensemble flag statement that, again, relied upon the performers’ ability to roll the equipment around and over their necks, arms, torsos, and shoulders. 

This created wonderfully flowing lyrical phrases that end in an ensemble 45 release, which they catch and immediately roll into the ground to face the opening sabre soloist. She performed a rifle six, caught by the strap (in 32 years of performing and teaching, I’ve never been able to catch BY the strap... on purpose). The soloist then launched into another trick and an exchange to the ringmaster in the center ring, where he was staged, while the opening acrobatic dancer returned to her opening spot with a flag solo.

As the show came to a close, the sabre soloist returned to her spot with the three sabres, and the show resolved to an ending much like how it began.