Come closer … with Luciana Luthi
by Thusnelda Marín Jungmann
Does the circus always have to be glitzy? Always light-hearted, virtuosic, spectacular? In conversation with Luciana Luthi, the focus shifts to an art form that is often situated somewhere between high-performance art and entertainment. Luthi – the new fellow of the Feminist Circus Initiative – does not see the stage as the given centre, but rather seeks her own place within it. She did not perform at the centre of the action, but in front of an extremely glittering curtain – away from the actual performance area. This chosen periphery does not seem coincidental, but almost programmatic: as a spatial shift that is also evident in her work – a search for a place in a scene in which she has long felt herself to be an outsider. An image that says a great deal about her practice of “minimalist circus”: she remains close to the glamour whilst simultaneously questioning it. What happens when circus is not only beautiful, but also uncomfortable, contradictory and deeply human?
Thusnelda Marín Jungmann: Come closer – what was your experience during this festival? Have you come closer to anyone or anything?
Luciana Luthi: In my entire life, I have often felt excluded in circus, as if my topics were those of an outsider. To bring all these subjects to a place that I thought would not welcome them meant a lot to me. So I realised it’s important to come closer to this shiny circus place.
TMJ: So, do you think circus is too nice? Too happy? Too shiny?
LL: On one hand, of course it’s very shiny, very happy, everybody is welcomed. But on the other hand, it’s not inclusive at all. And I’m sorry to say, but: most of the time circus is a discipline between art and sport. Some artists give a lot of importance to the technique. I feel sometimes in the circus field, there’s a lack of reflection, a lack of acceptance for differences. And I know circus is very physical. But it’s important to use the body to talk about topics.
TMJ: It sounds to me like you’re looking for a no-technique. What is your definition of your own technique?
LL: Ever since I was a kid, I was very connected to art. First, I studied music, theatre and dance. But I was not happy, I was looking for a place of subculture in arts. And I think circus is my answer. Looking into the history of circus I have that romantic illusion of “Freak shows”: Circus as a place, where diversity is accepted. But the moment I entered the circus school, there was a lot of pressure. I tried to fit in. But in the end: I was never an athlete, I don’t like to compete. It took me years, but I finally understood: I already have all the skills that I need. Now I don’t want to please anyone. I just want to do what I need to do.
I try to deconstruct this approach of technique to by finding hybridisation between tools. How I can use technology to interact with movement and sounds. And what can come with this? What can give a sensation for the audience?
TMJ: The first thing, that comes to mind: not fitting in is always a chance to develop something new. Do you think it is also giving you power to fight for that topic? Or do you feel very repressed in that?
LL: I think it comes in waves. Sometimes I’m very strong and confident. I can use my voice to talk to people, who are in similar situations because of their marginalisation. Trans people for example, migrants, people of colour or people with neurodivergence. There are many people excluded. And the audience should see this, the beauty, the uniqueness, when everyone has their own perspectives. We don’t need to be all like robots with the same faces, with the same bodies, with the same viewpoints. But sometimes I feel afraid. Sometimes I wonder if people think I’m crazy, if people think I don’t want to use technique because I'm not capable or that they might judge me.
TMJ: But you’re trained in a “classical technique”: Your circus background is aerial rope. You work against that common definition of virtuosity, however. What is your definition of virtuosity for your own work?
LL: I’m still searching. It’s important to touch people with simplicity. It’s not about doing a double pirouette, it’s more about being there with people and trying to do the pirouette and falling. It's closer to the clowns: The most honest person in circus for me.
TMJ: I agree. A piece can be phenomenal in terms of dramaturgy or technique, but I might not connect to it. You define your work in words that I have never heard before: minimalistic circus. How did you come across this wording?
LL: It began recently last year. People started asking me if I do traditional or contemporary circus and very spontaneously, without even thinking, I replied: minimalistic circus. It’s not contemporary, it’s not avantgarde; it’s just simple.
TMJ: So far I understand minimalistic circus more as a format. But what are the topics that you want to express through that format?
LL: It's about liminality. It’s about the state of transition – when you are not the person you used to be anymore, and you haven’t become the next person yet. I was feeling this for the first time when I gave birth. I had a C-section. I mean I was under anaesthesia. You are in pain and you cannot move. I was feeling a lot of violence in the hospital. Or last year, my dad passed away. Some people have no connection with their dad, but my dad, he was really my best friend, the biggest supporter of my art. At the funeral everyone was there, and the body was there without life and all the smells of flowers. And then, a part of me died as well. I’m not what I used to be anymore.
TMJ: Now I understand even more, what you mentioned at the beginning: circus can be more than just about happiness. Why do you think so few artists bring these topics to circus stages?
LL: This is a very, very good question because I think it's a duality. Nothing is completely sad. Birth and death, it's not only sadness. There's happiness, too. And some people think it's crazy, but I read about grief, and many people are happy because they have memories, they rebuild the memories. I mean in the end: Everyone will die. Everyone will lose someone they love. So why not talk it?
TMJ: Now the festival is over, what was it like for you? Did you come closer to anyone?
LL: It was very well organised. Especially the network meeting: They had these question cards, to help people break the barrier. But I didn’t feel I could talk to so many circus people. I connected more to people outside of the circus, actually. It would be important to create more space for experimental circus because I think it’s time to reflect: What is circus, actually? On the one hand it's amazing to see beautiful bodies with an expertise and a perfect technique, I saw many of those. But on the other hand, I think it would be very nice to have a platform for more experimental arts and circus. To reflect on what contemporary circus could be in the future.
