Review: Break
Break has a variety of meanings, where the word can be used in the context of accidents, discontinuity, suspension or even recreation. Break is the perfect name for this new solo work by Cecilia Martin (Ceci) and The Farm. A personal story about the ups and downs of circus life, Break features insights into the joy and pain of the life of a professional acrobat—and provokes conversations about ‘the cost of our ambition’ and ‘how we recover when our dreams shatter.’
I did say ‘solo,’ but Break is a collaboration between many talented creatives. Co-created by Ceci, Kate Harman and Gavin Webber (Harman and Webber are also co-Directors, and Ceci is the performer), Break features excellent lighting and sound design (Ben Ely [composition], Anna Whitaker [sound design], and Briana Clark [lighting design]) and costumes by Rozina Suliman and Josie Reid. In addition, the work uses a range of props and audience members to tell the story—where I particularly loved the tale of the 12 year old Ceci (playing with best friend Ellie), and the explanation of the trust and ‘springing’ energy of the acrobatic work, both conveyed with the help of audience participation.
But at front and centre in this physical theatre-dance-circus work are the skills of a talented artist. I don’t have space to list out every element of the show, but I particularly loved opening and closing scenes.
The transition from the frenzied opening through to the fourth-wall breaking direct conversation with the audience really drew us all into the piece. To loud music, a spandex-lamé clad Ceci burst onto the stage. Performing solo (as a ‘circus orphan’), Ceci demonstrated that most circus works are better viewed when the individual ‘fits in’ to the collective—rather than just watching one element of the performance. When the music stopped, we then began to hear insights into the close relationship between skilled performers—including the sheer joy of ‘getting it right,’ as well as the pain and pressure of training, travel, and surgeries.
Picture: Cecilia Martin (Ceci) in Break. Image supplied, credit Jessica Connell Photography.
Highlights in this 60+minute serious circus show were the directness and vulnerability with which the story was told, all interwoven with acrobatic and movement skills—and the clever ways in which the creatives balanced moments of stillness (lovely guitar) with high-energy training, and even ‘holiday’ comedy. Expect to see great use of the spinning plates, walking on broken china, incredible athleticism (and skipping), and quite amazing trapeze and aerial acrobatics.
I was particularly moved by the finale that built from the ‘finding of Ceci’s voice,’ communicated with the wonderful physicality of sound moving through and out of the artists’ body. Anticipation was built through anger and defiance, as Ceci created a performance space using broken china and gym chalk. We were not disappointed by the final crescendo, which was an incredible fighting against, and work with, the trapeze and trapeze rope. The last moments of vulnerability and trust that followed proved to be the perfect way in which to bring this incredible finale to a close.
Break will be a show with particular resonance for circus, acrobatic and physical theatre artists. But Break also speaks directly to anyone who has aimed high and fallen. Congratulations to HOTA and to Metro Arts on this new commission. I am sure that the creatives and performer will continue to develop this work, and can see that it will be an excellent addition to fringe and festival programs.
Verdict: A compelling physical theatre work, with a particular resonance for circus, acrobatic and physical theatre performers.
Audience tip: Break (21-24 June, 2023), Metro Arts, West End. 65 minutes (no interval). Mature themes, haze/smoke effects (including chalk dust), brief full black, and occasional strong lighting and loud music (12+). Tickets $39-45 plus $3.90 booking fee (general admission).
The reviewer attended the Metro Arts opening night performance (7:30pm, Thursday 22 June, 2023).
A version of this review first appeared at Nothing Ever Happens In Brisbane.