One has to be as careful describing Cirque du Soleils a as you would trying to describe what being a woman is like. Every image, every adjective, can be fraught with misinterpretation. For every truth there is a stereotype. For every stereotype there is a truth.
Lets say, for instance, you called a woman strong and powerful. Would that mean shes also aggressive? Would she be incapable of being feminine? Could her strength be matched with grace or would grace be perceived as a weakness, especially if she was also ruler of the land?
If, as another example, this woman was a mother, would you naturally think her nurturing and gentle? Could you feel, in her sadness as she thrusts her teenaged daughter into the realm of adulthood, a tinge of her excitement of being freed from the responsibilities of child-rearing? The chance to regain the life she put on hold when she became a mother?
Thoughts like these are cascading about in Julie MacInness mind as she tries to describe her lead role as Prospera in Amaluna, which opens Nov. 23 at Concord Pacific Place.
It doesnt help that all around her is chaos as the striped tents go up to create a magical space where, just days earlier, there was only a barren parking lot. Its a kaleidescope of activities as colourful and transfixing as some of the shows gorgeous peacock-inspired costumes. Fellow performers are walking past, or being interviewed, or practising their routines. Workers are making sure everything is where it should be, with nothing left to chance. (When MacInnes is hoisted 60 feet in the air to play her cello, there can be no whoopsie moments.)
Prospera is in the prime of her life, a priestess with magical powers, MacInnes says as she tries to find a quiet space both mentally and physically among the pandemonium. Shes a good leader in that shes brought together a good team.
Her spunky daughter, Miranda, is 15 and Prospera knows its time for the rite of passage into womanhood. In whats been described as The Tempest meets Wonder Woman, Prospera uses her cello bow as a magic wand to conjure up a storm a storm that brings male energy and influence to her female-dominated island.
Prospera is a good friend to me, says MacInnes, once again switching from her role as performer to her feelings as woman and trying to find the place in which they co-exist. I have some of her in me and Id like to borrow from her. She knows quite a lot but she knows when to sit back and when to be a bit wicked. I like that shes lived a lot and learned from her mistakes.
Shes fun. Shes not a person you have to like but you do have to trust her.
Its not only the chaos around her that MacInnes finds distracting during the telephone interview, just a day after a break back home in Australia following the Toronto run. The production, with its focus on womanhood and a cast thats 70 per cent female has been a time to reflect on what its like to be Julie MacInnes. So when she says, as the show goes on, it will be interesting for the women [performers] to think about what we want to show about ourselves, its almost as if shes saying, as life goes on, it will be interesting for me to know how much I want to reveal about myself.
In Amaluna, Prospera is front and centre, the crowds eyes upon her in almost every scene. Im exposed to the audience as a musician and performer, she says. I like to feel the audience.... Everything is very visible. Its visceral and very gutsy.
Now that sounds a lot like life itself.
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Amaluna opens on November 23 and runs until December 30. Sixteen new shows have been added. Tickets range from $65 to $175, with VIP options available. For tickets and more information go to
