Circus acts elevated to art in a performance that shows the necessity of care.

In an already crowded arts and entertainment industry, it can be difficult to stand out and offer something new to the scene. Enter Australian circus company Circa, who show that there is still room to innovate and elevate the circus arts to new heights with their work Humans 2.0.

Directed by Yaron Lifschitz, Humans 2.0 begins in almost total darkness, before the lights flash on, dramatic with grand string music, and reveals features 10 unnamed performers who awaken in a single white circle onstage. Dressed only in black mesh tops and underwear, it feels as if there is something incomplete and missing, as they get up and begin to explore the space, finding a common rhythm with each other.

While exploratory and curious at first, the performers begin by showing off their skills to each other, defying gravity as they cartwheel, flip and roll across the stage. Drawn to each other’s skill, they begin to take bolder steps, experimenting with catching as they leap into each other’s arms. The movements become increasingly complex, as they attempt to form structures standing atop each other’s shoulders, or begin swinging each other about, and their bonds closer the more they practice with each other.

This continues across the three ‘acts’, seeing the performers evolve in each iteration, going from their more hesitant approach, to eventually one that sees them so comfortable with each other, they’re almost in perfect sync. This is also reflected in their costuming, where the performers change into more ‘ordinary’ shirts and pants, before their final form sees them in almost futuristic attire, with translucent black bodysuits that show off their musculature and raw strength.

As they ‘evolve’, movements become more intense, with larger human structures, and more risky moves as they fall and leap off greater heights. At some point, they become so comfortable that they are even able to joke around with each other, pulling away their arms while another leaps towards them, ending in a roll rather than a catch. Standing on each other’s shoulders, the performer on top attempts to wrest control, only to be countered by the base, who then shifts his weight about to move the performer on his shoulders.

Besides being physically impressive, genuinely leaving us agape in wonder at times, these acts prompt reflection beyond entertainment, each requiring more than one person to fully execute, that makes us consider the aesthetics of care brought to life. One thinks about how long these performers have trained individually to hone their bodies to become strong enough to rely on, to know they are able to do what needs to be done and become a reliable team player.

And thereafter comes the chemistry with their fellow performers, countless hours of rehearsals and practice that allow them to fully trust each other to execute each movement, to catch them when necessary and to maintain their position when required. There is no room for mistakes, and a single slip could result in injury. Yet they do this night after night, completely confident in their abilities and each other, eliciting gasps from the audience members as they flawlessly accomplish each segment.

While the group performances are the highlight, these are also occasionally punctuated by solo acts, where a single carabiner lowers down from the top for a performer to subtly attach cords to. As the rest of the ensemble leaves, a single performer is left in the spotlight as he or she shows off variants of corde lisse, climbing up the rope before allowing themselves to unravel, or backing up to leap into the air, momentarily flying before coming back to earth. These individual moments of beauty help break up the acts, which at times begin to feel slightly repetitive to the untrained eye, with a need to one-up themselves each time.

What is also impressive is how smooth each scene transition is, with Paul Jackson’s lighting making an almost instantaneous switch each time, alongside Ori Lichtik’s compositions, appropriately jazzing up the stage or immersing it in far more steady beats that build tension and momentum. Unlike a typical circus performance, there are no pauses for audience applause, and the entire production feels like it flows in one swift movement, continuous like the progress of the human race itself.

Humans 2.0 showcases human performers at the peak of their physical abilities, displaying well-deserved confidence and genuinely impressive acts that leave you breathless. As an attempt to elevate the circus form to new heights, it absolutely succeeds at it, bringing to the stage highly disciplined performers who know exactly what they’re doing, as they achieve one gravity-defying feat after another.

Above all it is their teamwork that is most impressive, and in the final act, they form the largest structure yet. There is a single moment of silence as we watch them maintain their position, those not in the structure supporting the base, before they gently lower themselves and land perfectly, taking their bows and receiving the thunderous applause we’ve been holding back for the entire show.

Featured Image Credit: Circa and Pedro Greig

Humans 2.0 played from 3rd to 4th June 2023 at the Esplanade Theatre. More information available here

Read our interview with Circa Associate Director Ben Knapton, and Tour Manager Todd Kilby here

The 2023 Singapore International Festival of Arts runs from 19th May to 4th June 2023. Tickets and full details of programme available here

Production Credits:

Company: Circa

Director: Yaron Lifschitz

Original Music: Ori Lichtik

Lighting Designer: Paul Jackson

Costume Design: Libby McDonnell

Technical Director: Jaso