Theatre in Review: Bianco (NoFit State Circus/St. Ann's Warehouse)

	Photo: Teddy Wolff

Even as Blanche DuBois and Stanley Kowalski are experiencing an emotional workout inside St. Ann's Warehouse, a circus tent has gone up outside on the plot of land adjacent to the theatre, where the members of the NoFit State Circus are undergoing equally arduous physical activities in Bianco. This is the most strangely named troupe around; in order to participate in the company's parade of acrobatic and aerial feats, one must be in tip-top shape: Performers dangle by their ankles from the trapeze. They insert themselves into giant metal rings and spin recklessly. They fly around, clinging only to long pieces of muslin. They plunge from dizzying heights, bouncing around on trampolines. A wire walker executes the splits with not even a millionth of an inch to spare. They tumble, they juggle, they do handstands -- if it looks dangerous or involves great exertion, they are ready and raring to go.

And if you're tired of the pretensions and stylistic mannerisms of the Cirque du Soleil shows, you might find the performers of Bianco to be congenial company. The show is rougher, rawer than even the grittiest of the Cirque du Soleil tent shows. For one thing, there are no seats. The area under the big top is largely open, with four scaffold towers in the center; this is the playing area, the perimeter of which is covered in white scrim. At the top of the show, the scrim is stripped away, the towers are rolled outward, and the production's crowd-control staff moves the audience into place.

One stands throughout the show -- there is very limited seating available for those who require it -- and one of the pleasures of Bianco is the ability to roam the tent, watching the action from different angles. (If you have small children with you, you will have to be nimble in order to maneuver them into a spot with a good view.) The acts are sometimes intimate -- a pair of jugglers on movable trolleys tossing pins back and forth, the wire walker who slips and slides about as if the bones have been removed from his body -- and some make a bigger impression, for example, the woman hoisted high in air, wearing a skirt with an enormous train that covers the floor; she drops the skirt and executes a series of perilous-looking moves while tied to a rope. Best of all, while there is a fair amount of comic roughhousing, the lumbering clown sketches of Cirque du Soleil are blessedly absent.

Then again, this is a variety show that suffers from a lack of variety. Without clowns, without animals, and with a program that consists almost entirely of aerial acrobatics, a certain sameness sets in. The director, Firenza Guidi, hasn't paced the show in classic circus fashion -- starting with less challenging acts and gradually moving toward the death-defying feats, thereby creating a feeling of rising action -- and so the proceedings ramble instead of building to a climax. At times, even fans of Bianco may find themselves wandering around, checking out the band and the rest of the crowd, or stopping in at the concession stand for a drink.

Even so, this troupe pursues it vision with remarkable unanimity: Saz Moir's production design and Rhiannon Matthews' costumes are firmly a part of the no-glitz aesthetic, and Lyndall Merry, the rigging designer, has found innumerable ways of dangling, hanging, and otherwise draping human bodies around the tent. And even with a weakish sound system, the four-member band keeps things lively. Adam Cobley's lighting design, working from a limited rig, sometimes casts shadows that make the acts somewhat difficult to see, however. Lighting for circus acts is a complex, challenging task, because performers can be put at risk if light gets in their eyes; still there are few moments when I wished Cobley had a few more instruments at his disposal.

The novelty factor of Bianco lies in its style rather than its substance, which consists largely of acts that one has seen before. Its casual, come-as-you-are tone has its appeal, and one imagines that it represents St. Ann's gift to the DUMBO neighborhood, which is filled with young families, now that the theatre has at last established its permanent home. It should provide more than a few young people with some honestly earned gasps and thrills. -- David Barbour