Last night I never quite left the house, even though there was a musical performance at Hampshire I wanted to see. If I had been able to find the time or location -- or any confirmation that the performance existed at all -- online, I would probably have tried anyway, but as it stood, dinner with housemates and the first Harry Potter movie were just too enticing.

Tonight, however, I went to a completely different performance at Hampshire, the first show of the new Hampshire Circus troupe (or "Khircus" according to their promotional materials) and the whole thing reminded me of a lot of the things I love about hampshire and a lot of the things I don't miss one bit.

The performance itself was great. These kids obviously worked their asses off. Unfortunately, they just as obviously could have used about two weeks more rehearsal. And a technical budget. I can relate, though. Just being back in the Red Barn made me remember one of my own adventures in ill-conceived hampshire college theater, The Good Life. Nothing like a bunch of rich white kids in Massachusetts doing a play about the plight of poor black kids in the inner cities. With musical numbers. And masked Commedia del'Arte mime. No, seriously, I shit you not. I have the tape of it around here somewhere. Of course, the sound didn't come through on the tape, because WE DIDN'T HAVE A TECHNICAL BUDGET EITHER.

But back to the circus. Er, Khircus. Aside from the obvious appeal of young, lithe bodies in ragamuffin-punk postmodern collisions of leotards and costumery, they did some really impressive stuff. There was good dancing, juggling, clowning and poi-spinning (with glowsticks, not fire, alas) but what really took my breath away was the aerobatic number. Not because of the skill involved, even though that was considerable, but because of the obvious danger.

All that was standing between them and possible permanent damage as they vaulted off a trampoline and did various flips and twists and whatnot was a standard-issue hampshire college mattress (or two, sometimes, but most were landed on only one). Now, they were reaching heights in their vaults well over my head, and I was standing up, so let's estimate that as six to eight feet off the ground, and traversing a horizontal distance about the same or a little further. Certainly not olympics-level, but the standard issue hampshire mattress is only about three feet wide and six feet long and really not all that cushioned. I just don't believe any of the college EMT's or insurance adjusters signed off on this plan, and I'm surprised any faculty member at all did.

Anyway, displaying either:
A)the fuzzy-headed optimism so common to those firmly lodged within their ivory towers
or
B) a really admirable willingness to lay their bodies on the line in dedication to their craft,
these kids flew through the air with the greatest of ease, did those aforementioned flips and twists and other amazing gymnastic maneuvers for which I don't know the jargon, every vault executed with amazing skill and without mishap (like I said, WORKED their ASSES off!) and I cheered my heart out with all the rest.

After the show ended, I wandered up to Enfield in an attempt to visit corbistheca but alas, she was at the very khame khircus I was, but I didn't khee her there. How khilly!

Her modmate was nice, but it was a little depressing when I told her I entered Hampshire in '97 and she remarked "Wow... I was eleven!" She also forgot my name about ten seconds after I told it to her, but I can't talk because now I've forgotten hers. Anyway, Cora, if your next-door neighbor who might be named Meg says Ted stopped by, she means me. :)