Part 4 of 4
Dralion has no curtains to raise, no three rings in the middle, no judges pushing X Factor buttons yet all these forces - theatre, circus, talent exhibition - are peaking at the same time.
Cirque du Soleil is the NHL of live shows. The Canadian performance company is the world's leader in presenting to the public the artistry of human creativity in marriage with the kinesiology of human body mechanics. Their shows are painstakingly built on athletics, poetry and technology.
For the first time in Prince George history, one of Cirque du Soleil's heart-stopping, jaw-dropping spectacles is coming to this city. It opens tonight at CN Centre for an eight-show visit over five days.
Don't be late or you won't get in until intermission. Dralion is not a rock concert or a sports event, although all the music is played live and all the performers are among the world's best athletes. It is a play without words, but understandable in that universal way of sign language and vocal tones and gestures.
The storyline is played out through symbolic characters. Dralion (pronounced DRA-lee-on) is a visual discussion about the cultures of the east and philosophies of the mythical (represented by the dragon) and the cultures of the west and philosophies of the natural (represented by the lion).
The four elemental realm common to all - earth, air, fire and water (costumed in brown/yellow, blue, red and green respectively) - take human form and interact through dance and acrobatics to tell a thumbnail story of conflict, desire, joy, love and convergence - a story of beautiful individuality and triumphant collaboration.
Cultures, natural elements and philosophies are all connected and encircled by key symbols: the hoop and the rope. Their universal powers are showcased through extreme displays of gravity and momentum in concert with music, colour and the human form.
Eventually, all are drawn together naturally into a single character: dragon and lion become dralion.
Don't be too concerned about understanding the show as a story. The narrative is there only as a frame around the explosive and touching and funny displays of acting and athletics. If people could learn to fly, you will see what it would look like to fall in love in the air. If people could learn to shape-shift, you will see glimpses of what it would look like to pass through impossible spaces. If people could learn to bi-locate, you will see the dizzy possibilities of perhaps moving as one in multiple directions at the same time. You will be become equally captivated and emotionally attached to figures of power, figures of grace and silly buffoons.
BENEATH THE WAVES OF DRALION
Dralion is a show that has entertained more than 11 million people over the past 15 years. In a few weeks it comes to a final end. The cast and crew embrace on stage one final time in Anchorage in mid-January, and they are already feeling the power of nostalgia in Prince George knowing they are making the last impressions together.
While most of the cast and crew spoken to admitted they were looking forward to some time off - some wanted to laze on a beach, some were excited to reconnect with family (many only get to sleep in their own beds a total of a couple of weeks per year) - almost everyone hoped the Cirque du Soleil company would find a place for them in one of their other productions around the world (nine are tours, nine more are stationary in either Las Vegas or Orlando, and Cirque has more than 2,000 employees at home base in Montreal).
"The thing with Cirque is, on the technical side and artist side which is what I know about, they have a reputation for really taking good care of people," said Eric Gerard, Dralion's production stage manager. He started his career strapped into a chair more than 40 feet above the stage, shining a spotlight. By the age of 24 (he is now 27) he was in charge of a multi-million-dollar inventory of travelling equipment, some of it cutting edge technology, some of it custom fabricated for the show.
"I'm the Tetrus master," Gerard said, laughing about his real life application of the popular fit-the-pieces-together video game. "Someone counted - do you know how many wheels we have on all the equipment and staging and boxes we have to move? 7,200. We move as a 100-person family. We live and work as a family. Sometimes a dysfunctional family, but we all pretty much get along really well and support each other in our jobs and our lives."
"After awhile, even if you don't speak the same language or if you work in different departments, you still learn who wants to watch the NBA game with you," said Julie O'Brien, a costumer from England who loves watching sports of all kinds, especially basketball.
Hanging out at the nearest pub that night were actors from Australia, Brazil, Ukraine and Argentina hanging out with acrobats from China, a dancer from the United States, a trampoline athlete from Spain, several sound and stage crew from Canada and many others besides. English is the working language, but there are ample doses of many others and plenty of hand signals.
"I'm more like the mayor of the village," said artistic director Sean McKeown when asked if he was the father of this family. Sixty-six of the Dalion hundred report directly to him, so he has to know them intimately on an artistic level but since they are constantly together and in need of human understanding (some have their children tour along, some get sick and need a night or two off, the backups need stage time as well as the starting performers, and so on) so he comes to know them well as people, too.
"You have to have backup plans, you have to use your training and your intuition, you have to be able to adapt," he said. "Issues come up and personalities are in play like with any family, but the people in this show particularly are very generous with one another, we take care of each other well, and you have to have that respect and be kind when you are in intense relationships like this."
The intensity is built on more than constant contact and performance hype. One false move and someone can be seriously hurt on the Dralion stage. Safety is taken with the seriousness of life and death, so those stakes add to the relationships.
"You appreciate each other's skills. How can you not?," McKeown said. "One scene I can think of is so poetic that I still get teary, sometimes. It touches me still, and I know the audience is right there with me, bringing their own personal stories into the room each night, reacting in their own emotional way. That's what Cirque brings to the audience - a level of artistry built on thousands of years of theatre and circus traditions with the very best in modern technology and the best skills available in the world."
The feats of strength and flexibility and timing are not special effects. There are elaborate lights, staging and music components to the Dralion show, but the humans are the real special effects. Each performer reached this show through lifelong training in theatre, commedia dell'arte (high-art clowning), gymnastics, acrobatics, trampoline, dance and other performance disciplines, then were massaged into their Dralion roles.
"No one here can be average at anything," said McKeown.
Since no one is, it is routine to see someone standing in the food line with a bottle of water balanced on his head; or two people chatting in the corner, one standing on his head, the other with her legs wrapped around her head. The extraordinary becomes common, but the ego is deflated. So you're one of the best hoop dancers in the world? That carpenter is among the best set builders in the world, that lighting technician is one of the best in her field, that acrobat built his own gravity defying piece of equipment seen in no other show.
Everyone in the cast, crew and staff has gifts to bring as well as shortcomings to support, and together their dragons and lions become one being: Dralion.
