When it comes to capturing the spirit of Christmas in NYC, there are few grander ways to celebrate than by seeing Cirque du Soleil’s holiday show “’Twas the Night Before…” at Madison Square Garden.
The seasonal spectacle, based on Clement-Clarke Moore’s classic poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas,” features 26 artists, plucked from a global ensemble of 1,200 world-class acrobats, who go through grueling training to perfect the high-flying, dizzying and just plain dangerous stunts in the shows.
So when I was asked to “try out” for the MSG troupe, my first thought was that I hadn’t done gymnastics since the fifth grade.
Yet as I watched clip after clip of cast members catapulting and somersaulting through the air with an ease I’d typically reserve for flipping through Netflix, my second (surprising) thought was: Let’s do this!
Show writer and director James Hadley, while impressed with my gung-ho attitude, confirmed that my glaring lack of athletic prowess was atypical of an aspiring Cirque artist, who must have “a variety of acrobatic skills,” such as being able to tumble and “flip off” a surface, like a table.
With no tumbling (much less flipping-off-a-table) skills to speak of, I had no idea how I would make it through, much less keep all my limbs intact.
Day of my ‘audition’
I woke up the morning of my tryout excited, albeit with more than a few butterflies in my stomach for what lay ahead.
“The amount of strength that they have to have is absolutely phenomenal, and the trust that they have to have with one another as well,” Hadley told me.
After going through one of the performers’ entrances at Madison Square Garden (I felt like a star already!) and finding the costume-filled dressing rooms backstage, I met Asia Medini, the 31-year-old rollerskating acrobat who performs as half of the “Disco Lovers” duo with her 29-year-old brother, Dylan Medini, five days a week and up to three performances a day.
Asia taught me how to apply the same makeup — blue eyebrows, a hot-pink eyeshadow design, loads of crystals and glitter — that she uses to be seen from the theater’s farthest rows. The process, she said, typically lasts 45 minutes to an hour.
With the last crystal glued into place and my lips painted a dazzling shade of pink, I hit the stage, looked out at the vast sea of 5,600 seats, and wondered if the cast still felt nervous before executing their complex routines.
“When performers do have nerves, I always tell them that if you sort of focus that into your performance, that’s how you’re going to get through this,” said Hadley. “Usually, it just brings more excitement to their performances.”
First act: hoops
First, I would be diving through the upper of two stacked, golden hoops and tumbling onto a foam mat below, an act performed by eight antler-clad acrobats, who depict Santa’s reindeer, bounding through one after another.
Nicolas Nieto Teusa, 28, who portrays one of the prancing, diving animals, first walked me through a backstage warm-up used to get muscles limber before shows, and then he gave me my first, seemingly simple instruction: to somersault.
I took a breath, tumbled forward and landed hard on the mat — which, thankfully, was softer than expected.
“Again,” Nieto Teusa commanded, instructing me to put my hands forward as though I were pushing against something, which made it easier.
For our final step, Nieto Teusa said we would jump through the hoop, too, and told me, “Pretend it’s not there.”
I laughed out loud, and actually thought, “Yeah, right.”
After he flawlessly flipped through, I fumbled a few times before successfully passing through, though less gracefully.
My practice wasn’t perfect, but it was fun to engage in the hoop-la.
Second act: straps
Second-generation, 36-year-old circus performer Roman Tomanov soars and spins from aerial straps at unnerving heights with partner Sarah Knauer.
“It takes a lot of upper body strength,” said Tomanov, who implements “a lot” from gymnastics and has been continuously involved with Cirque since he was 18.
The cotton straps hang from the ceiling and allow a performer to dangle from mere inches to 25 feet off the ground. Gulp.
After I slipped my wrists through the loops, Tomanov instructed me to hang low, like I was “on the monkey bars,” in a seated position with my legs outstretched in front of me.
Supporting my weight with my arms above my head, I quickly discovered, was no easy feat, and I started swinging out of control in a sort of circle.
Not exactly graceful — but a heck of a lot of fun.
For our other trick, Tomanov helped me flip myself upside down, a position that (in my humble opinion) I held for an impressively long time!
Perhaps my top-notch performance on the straps would pull me through to cast-member status?
A gal can dream.
Third act: roller-skating
“It’s fun to perform with my sister,” Dylan Medini said of the feat he does with his sibling. “Because we know each other, we feel when something is wrong or something is good. So we are on the same page all the time.”
By this point, I was feeling extra sure of myself — maybe even a little cocky. I already had basic roller-skating skills from childhood; how hard could this actually be?
Turns out, pretty darn hard.
Roller skates feel quite different from inline skates (the latter being my standard choice when I go to a rink once in a blue moon), and my unsteady self had to be gently guided to the center of the stage by hand, my balance somehow maintained but my ego trailing close behind.
Once there, the younger Medini instructed me to stretch out my arms, palms up. He then took my hands and spun me around in a circle, just as he does with his sister during performances.
I was much slower and a great deal clunkier than their polished duet, and I emerged from our loop feeling dizzy and disoriented — the same sensation the Medinis have to shake off before breaking into dance as part of their routine.
“Imagine spinning fast, upside down, whatever, and then going down and then (continuing to) skate and keeping pace with the music, and then more steps,” explained Asia.
Oh, I could imagine.
Once finished, I rolled off stage triumphant, if slightly wobbly. I had just tried out for Cirque du Soleil to the best of my ability, and I was still somehow standing.
On skates, no less.
The verdict
While this severely uncoordinated writer won’t be joining the cast of Cirque du Soleil anytime soon, I got a first-hand glimpse of the astronomical talent required.
“Being a Cirque du Soleil artist demands a high level of strength, flexibility and discipline,” said Tomanov.
“People often see the beauty on stage, but behind every moment is years of training, repetition, conditioning and constant improvement. It’s also about body control, mental focus, creativity and evolving your skills and pushing your limits.” (I think I found my limits.)
Hadley added that the show’s “fresh, new perspective” on Moore’s poem offers a “very modern way of looking at many of the Christmas classics that we’ve all come to love over the years.”
And while I couldn’t agree more, viewers thankfully won’t see this klutz flying through the air at MSG.
Cirque du Soleil’s limited holiday engagement “‘Twas the Night Before…” runs through Dec. 28 at The Theater at Madison Square Garden.
