Either way, alongside their talents as aerialists, contortionists, jugglers, balancers, firewalkers and hula hoopers, the team members each possess significant intellectual heft. Diabolo herself is a biomedical scientist. “One of our performers has been doing a post-doctorate Fellowship in Cardiology at Melbourne University for the last seven years,” Diabolo continues. “MamaShak, our MC, general overlord, host, preacher woman and gypsy, has a first class honours degree in plant pathology. We have a psychology student and a neuroscientist. Our straight circus crew are also highly recognised, they’ve performed internationally; one is ex Cirque de Soleil.”
Chest of Wonders Shows Off come to Melbourne after a season of sold out shows in Perth. “It happened by accident,” Diabolo says, of her own career as a performer. “It’s easier to get work in the circus than it is to get work as a scientist.” This shouldn’t be the case, surely! How did Chest of Wonders come together? “I came back from the States mid-last year,” Diabolo continues. “I’d been training and I was inspired so I put on a show. I wanted to do something different from the standard format circus and tired burlesque shows around. Tiki (co-founder Tiki Amazon) is bearded lady; I’m quite heavily tattooed, so we cobbled together a show which was half a freak show. We performed at Fringeworld in Perth and it went unbelievably well.”
Diabolo says there’s a lot of straight circus in Chest of Wonders Shows Off which also includes dancing girls performing neo-burlesque along with ‘adult comedy’. “It’s different, vaudeville; it’s variety.” The more Diabolo talks about Chest of Wonders, the more I want to run away to the circus. Do they need a Fat Lady? “If it’s a good act we’ll put you on,” she answers. “I’m accommodating like that.” How does she choose her acts? “A lot of the performers are friends of ours, there’s a bunch of people, all sorts of acts. We have guest stars. There’s a real sense of community. I get to work with my heroes, with some truly talented people.”
Some of the acts, the bed of nails and ladder of swords in particular, she says, are terrifying, to perform as well as watch. Diabolo says that Chest of Wonders harks back to the days when circus was something other than family entertainment. “Circus used to be for adults, it offered grown-up laughs,” she says. “It’s been toned down over the years. There are these big shows, with huge production budgets, with big names and they make their massively beautiful spectacles…Empire, for example, is more cabaret. But we do different things. We’ve still got the amazing feats; we’ve got that level of talent. Our artists are on par with performers from Cirque de Soleil (one came from there) but we’re a little more casual, and audiences enjoy that in our performances. And we’re not safe for children! It was great performing in a tent over summer,” continues. “But now we’re back in our spiritual hometown, in our conceptual birth place, back in a bar, and audience members can get up, go and get a drink. It’s a dirty, speakeasy kind of vibe.”
“There’s a lot of competition in Melbourne,” Diabolo notes. “We’re back in our home town but it’s hard; it’s hard to break into Melbourne. Circus is a serious thing here.” Diabolo says she’s keen to do a show at the Edinburgh Fringe. “At the moment we can’t take the time out to do that. We’ve got academic commitments.” She’d like to put together a tour but getting everyone in the same place at the same time outside of performance seasons is a job in itself. “It’s rare that we’re all together.” How do they prepare the shows, then? “It’s a series of acts,’ she says. “There isn’t a storyline; everyone does their own performance in their own field. I have great faith in our performers; they all know what they are doing.
“It’s been an interesting ride,” she says, of putting the show together. “Lots of learning curves. We have a feeling of community; we all work well together.’ With the level of competition in the business, Diabolo says the performers have to remind themselves that what they do is remarkable. “Because performance is my whole little world,” Diabolo says, “I forget that most of the audience members can’t touch their toes. Your perspective gets skewed. You forget that what’s normal for you isn’t normal for other people.” This is coming a woman who got her first tattoo at the age of 14 and hammers nails into her own head (really) on stage, so she’s not overstating the case.
BY LIZA DEZFOULI
