P ER F O R MI NG A RT S
BY ALE X NOT MAN
P H O T O C O U R T E S Y M AT T B E A R D
BEAUTIFUL BEING AND NOTHINGNESS
Cirque du Soleil’s Quidam explores darker themes
O
ne of the biggest stars of Cirque du Soleil’s
Quidam cannot fold into a pretzel while
dangling from a silken rope or pivot through
hoops while defying gravity. The star is rather
inflexible, actually. The Quidam cast and crew
affectionately calls him “Télé,” but in more
formal circles, he is known as téléphérique. Télé is a
120-feet-long aluminum arch system, and he allows his
fellow performers to take flight. “It’s just stunning,” says
Quidam’s Assistant Artistic Director Georgia Stephenson.
“There are five arches and they stand from backstage all
the way to the front of the stage where the audience is.” So
if you’re in the audience this week, look up.
Quidam, Cirque du Soleil’s ninth stage production, is
one of the Canadian company’s longest-running shows,
punching in at 16 years, and perhaps its darkest. Trading the
saturated oranges, fuchsias and emeralds of Saltimbanco or
Koozå for a more somber palette of grays and gas lamp
greens with pops of red and yellow, Quidam exists in the
imagination of Zoé, a teenage girl filled with existential
ennui. Quidam (meaning a nameless passer-by in Cirque du
Soleil tongue) is a world of whimsy where she can escape
her indifferent parents, and the title character — a headless
gentleman with an umbrella and bowler hat (think surrealist
painter Rene Magritte’s The Son of Man, except juggling)
— represents “everyone and no one,” or if you want to go
further down the rabbit hole, being and nothingness.
“The thing that I find interesting is it is [Zoé’s] imagina-
tion, however the characters are all very human,” Stephenson
says. “Humanity is a driving force in the story as opposed to
fantasy or fantastical characters.” The characters may be
more quotidian than others in the Cirque du Soleil family, but
they are certainly not lacking in humor. Target is literally a
human target with a red bullseye painted on his chest (and an
uncanny smile on his face), the Chiennes Blanches (translates
to White Bitches — of the canine persuasion) are a faceless
and voiceless chorus and then there’s Boum-Boum (translates
to Bang-Bang), a clownish version of The Dark Knight Rises’
Bane, who proudly harasses the audience with his howls.
Zoé’s story is told through soaring acrobatic acts like
the Cloud Swing and Spanish Web and this is where le
téléphérique shines, launching the performers as they soar
above the stage and swoop down over the audience. C’est
magnifique. ■
Quidam runs Oct. 25-28 at Matthew Knight Arena; $29.50-$92.
eugeneweekly.com • October 25, 2012
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