Dan and I were invited to see Cirque du Soleil’s Corteo touring show in Broomfield. (Full disclosure: tickets were provided.)
I already adore Cirque shows (see my previous Cirque-obsessed post), but Corteo hit a special chord for me because:
- I like my comedy darrrrrrk. Corteo, while certainly fun and comedic and clowny, begins with the line “I dreamed I was watching my own funeral.” For every scene involving bright balloons and pillow fights, there is another where pipe organs and footlighting hint at something more macabre.
- I’m a sucker for commedia dell’arte. Kids in the audience might not have noticed references to Harlequin and Pagliacci — nor did they need to. Cirque is wonderful about layering their shows in that way.
- The visual treatment is up my alley. Each Cirque show has a bold fashion of its own, but Corteo’s particularly speaks to me. Lightly naughty French lingerie, angels plucked from the Renaissance, glittering candelabras and chandeliers… this is not a Barnum & Bailey show.
Acts included trampolines, Cyr wheels, teeterboards and some downright fierce whistling. The woman in front of us yelped during a particularly thrilling aerial sequence. However, my stage crush of the show was not one of the athletes at all — it was the on-stage percussionist, who stayed devoutly in character while displaying wicked chops.
Surprising and sumptuous and funny and haunting and impressive and memorable: Corteo fulfills my high expectations of a Cirque du Soleil performance.
P.S. We were not allowed to take photos within the arena, so I performed my own stunts in the hallway. The things I do for you.