A new look at the ancient art of making them gasp

Circus is an astonishing spectacle, but the techniques and training that make it possible are rarely brought out into the open. Ellie Dubois tells Susan Mansfield why she has lifted the lid on the art form she loves

about their craft, the risks, the injuries, the hard physical graft.

Francesca Hyde, for example, will talk about the old circus art of hanging from her hair (clue: yes, it hurts), and Lisa Chudalla will describe the intricacies of cyr wheel, where the performer spins inside a rotating metal wheel. “We explain everything that can go wrong in a cyr wheel act, because normally it looks effortless, floaty and beautiful,” says Dubois. “You have no idea that it takes effort to do it. This thing weighs 30kg and at any point it might land on her head or crush her fingers.”

Dubois points out that, despite the glamour of the women in the big top, circus remains a male-dominated environment. Even getting work as a female circus performer is hard: many troupes have a dozen men and only one woman.

“When I was training, I could see that my options to perform on stage were pretty depressing. Often, in circus shows, female performers are not allowed to do their best tricks because they would rather you did pretty, sexy tricks and didn’t wear very many clothes. I could see female circus performers who were so talented and so amazing, and wanted to create a show where they could perform to the best of their ability.”

It taps into deeper ideas about masculinity and femininity, she says. “When you see a male circus performer, his body conforms to all the ideas we have about perfect masculinity, he’s got a six pack, he’s confident, sexy. When you put a female circus performer on stage, her body is covered in muscles, it’s powerful, it’s strong, and we expect women to be waif-like and weak.”

Originally from London, Dubois moved to Glasgow to study on the RCS Contemporary Performance

0 Circus as you’ve never seen it before – Ellie Dubois hopes No Show will reveal Practice course but fell in love with circus. Looking for “a bit more of a physical challenge” she took lessons with Glasgow-based aerialists, Aerial Edge, and the now-defunct Glasgow Parkour Coaching (“I spent two days a week jumping off walls, it was brilliant.”) “At college, I felt like we were trying to make work that was risky, but sometimes it felt like we were creating risks that weren’t really there. What I really love about circus is that when someone stands on someone else’s shoulders, it’s a controlled risk but it’s still a risk, there’s still a danger. It just made me feel really alive.”

At the National Centre for Circus Arts, Dubois spent two years perfecting her chosen discipline, aerial straps, with gruelling daily one-onone tuition. “Sometimes, you’re so exhausted you can hardly keep going, but it felt like a total privilege to have that time to do nothing but train.” After graduating, she knew she wanted to make her own work, combining what she had learned about making experimental theatre with her circus training.

Now living with her partner and baby in Argyll, where she runs a circus school for local young people, she talks excitedly about her ideas for the future: Little Top, a circus show for 0-24 months, currently in development with Starcatchers, and a show featuring a juggler and acrobats: “Every time the juggler drops a ball,