Cirque du Soleil brought its high-flying aerial show "Varekai" back to Portland Wednesday night for an eight-performance run at Memorial Coliseum, offering a chance to rediscover a landmark show that first played here in 2006 in a big-top tent along the South Waterfront.
If you caught the first run of "Varekai" nine years ago, count yourself lucky: That version ranks as one of the French-Canadian circus troupe's highest achievements, and remains the best production to play Portland. If you missed out, take heart: This arena adaptation may lack the intimacy of its original incarnation, and features several new acts, but still has enough moments of pure wow factor to make it worth checking out.
Like Cirque's other arena adaptations, "Varekai" is performed to only a small seating area at the Coliseum's south bowl, partially retaining the in-the-round feel of its tent version. Because seats are so much further away from the action on stage, there's less of a connection between the audience and the performers. The distance doesn't matter to acts like an aerial duet in the second act, where two men dangle by straps and swoosh out over the heads of people seated on the arena floor, prompting plenty of spontaneous applause. But the gap is challenging for acts like a baton-twirling routine that might work up close, but gets lost when seen far away.
Here are six standout moments:
Icarus descends: After a lengthy set-up, "Varekai" truly begins when a lone performer with a pair of large man-made wings falls to the stage, as if wounded in flight. It echoes the Greek myth of Icarus, who flew too close to the sun, melting his wings made out of feathers and wax. The performer, his body seemingly broken, is then captured by a large net, which carries him over the stage like an insect. It's a heart-felt moment that establishes the show's themes of resilience and mortality.
Bouncing acrobats: One of the brand-new acts in "Varekai" is a tumbling routine featuring five Japanese acrobats, which takes advantage of the larger arena setting. Hopping about a large lily pad-shaped air pad, the performers vault impossibly high, activating pressure-point lights within the pad upon their landing, a bit of large-scale technical wizardry that works well in the arena setting. The only distraction is the acrobats' generic looking leotards, which aren't in keeping with the forest-themed look of the other acts.
Cirque du Soleil's 'Varekai'
When:
Continues 7:30 p.m. May 7, at 4 and 7:30 p.m. May 8-9, and at 1:30 and 5 p.m. May 10.
Where:
Memorial Coliseum at the Rose Quarter.
Tickets:
$40-$105, available
, or 1-800-745-3000.
A trapeze feat: Cirque's aerial acts always have some level of white-knuckles for audiences, but "Varekai's" trapeze act is seemingly one of its most perilous. A female trapeze artist swings high above the stage, at times supported only by the strength of a single ankle or her neck. The sheer danger makes it hypnotizing and hard to watch at once. This is when you have to take a deep breath and remind yourself that these performers do this every night.
Cheesy clowns: It's not a Cirque show without offbeat clowns, and the pair that anchors "Varekai" - an inept magician and his baby doll-wearing assistant -- is among the best. In the first act, they coax an audience member onstage to participate in a disappearing act that goes awry with hilarious results. Later, the magician offers a cheesy lip-synch of French balladeer Jacques Brel's famous torch song "Ne me quitte pas," while chasing the spotlight across the stage. It's a great combination of physical comedy and absurdity.
A dance on crutches: One of the most-unusual acts in this show is a dance performed on titanium crutches, showing how even with a physical disability, the body can have fluidity and beauty. As originally created by hip-hop dancer Bill Shannon, the routine uses the crutches to move the dancer across the stage with minimal use of his legs. It's a lesson for the Icarus character in the power of the mind over the body.
The big finale: "Varekai" ends with a bang. Thirteen acrobats use a pair of large swings to catapult their bodies high into the air, landing either in large nets or on top of other performers in gravity-defying handstands. It's a long sequence that keeps building upon itself, with each acrobat adding more flips and twist, while acing impossible landings. By the time it ends, you may find yourself gasping for breath.
-- Grant Butler
503-221-8566; @grantbutler