If there’s a hierarchy of circus nations, Australia is near the top. The country has a genius for reinventing the genre, with Circus Oz in at the birth of new circus in the late Seventies with shows that retired the animals and gave us cheeky humour and ace acrobats instead.
Now the Brisbane-based Circa has gone one further. The young troupe has ditched the anarchic larks and goofy characters. Gone, too, are the sets and costumes, plus all the props and most of the kit. All that’s left is a plain stage with seven performers moving on and around each other, as if they were their own pommel horse, beam, bars and wheel. Occasionally they use a trapeze or rope but these sequences are not as good as the hand-to-hand, -shoulder and -head sections.
Circa is also different for the earthy otherness of its performers. Although very much flesh and blood, they don’t engage with the audience with folksy asides or knowing looks. Instead they inhabit their own realm, like a cross between Glastonbury- goers and urban angels.
Under the skilled eye of director Yaron Lifschitz, the seven have an inconspicuous expertise. The three women are small and pale (they could be sisters), with a post-Girl Power sexiness that is low-key and alluring. They lift and swing with each other as well as the men, who are deceptively strong and gloriously nimble.
Some of the moves, such as the double tumbling and tumble-to-catch combinations, are hardly new, although Circa do them with considerable flair.
More original are the ingenious balances and the drag-and-clench partnering. Most of these simply revel in their daring insouciance, although once or twice, such as the finger stands and high heels duet, they hint at the S&M pomp that has long characterised the Big Top.
Until 14 March. 0845 121 6823, www.barbican.org.uk
Circa
Barbican Theatre
EC2
