Cirque du Soleil’s “Amaluna”

It was a dark and cloudless night when our car pulled into Marymoor Park. At first glance I felt confused, if it wasn’t for the signs and the traffic, I wouldn’t have known that an entire circus was hidden not far from us. A few minutes of drudging bumper to bumper traffic later, and the circus tent revealed itself as a glowing beacon in the night. It seemed strangely humble, strangely small, surrounded by vans and portable bathrooms. Upon entering through the fabric and polyester flaps, we saw thousands of bustling, anxious circus goers discussing long forgotten starry-eyed dreams of running away to the circus and munching on popcorn while they eye the activity on stage.

A man adorned in scales and a reptilian tail was creeping amongst the crowd, slithering to and fro to prank and tease late comers, stealing popcorn and scrambling up the support beams of the tent, eyeing the scene.

The first few strums of music reverberated from the guitarist, adorned in a magenta cape and battle boots. The music consisting of everything from electric guitar to cello sounded fresh and nerve shaking. A powerful female voice began to sing, “From the Moon, to the Stars…” The audience was silent, the air tense.

The storm of the night rumbled as graceful, a real and golden unicycle acts panned out flawlessly in front of our eyes. Fiery red warriors passionately struck and latched onto uneven bars, rallying the crowd and getting the heart of the event beating quickly. And then a virginal contortionist reset the mood as she was lowered onto what looked like a giant cocktail glass filled with water, where she performed above and in.

Teetering flyers flung each other tens of feet in the air, where they strategically whirled themselves about. An incredible manipulation of gravity aroused a gawking audience, it was a balancing act of wonder. From Chinese poles to lovely tight wire walkers, the Amaluna performers juggled their talents as they traversed the beautifully set stage with seeming ease.

The acrobatics, the dancing, the costumes, every expression and twitch was intended drama and afflatus. It wasn’t random drama, there was no disjointed and outlying performance, the show was crafted to tell a story of love, betrayal, humanity, and demons.

The word “Amaluna” itself emblematizes deeply sown seeds into grounding nature. It emulates the luster of Luna, the moon, an orb of empowerment and gentle inspiration. Ama has multicultural linguistic ties to the words mother, only, and amar which means to love. The show did encapsulate a heart of feminism, swaddled in the nimbus tone of Shakespeare’s “The Tempest”.

The Cirque du Soleil, the Circus of the Sun, produces a once in a lifetime shows that are worth every penny. If there is a greater show on Earth, I have yet to see it.