I don’t know what it says about South by Southwest — or me — that the visceral highlight of the week so far was Cirque du Soleil.
Didn’t see that coming. Didn’t even aim to attend at ACL Live.
The evening began as others have since Friday: At South Bites, the food trailer park just southeast of the Austin Convention Center. Tried the veggie Frito pie from Foreign and Domestic with blondie for dessert. Outstanding.
Omar Vallejo and Milton Torres
My escort for the evening, Ian Carrico, suggested we take a Car2Go over to the Ballet Austin studios. This seemed like an unnecessary luxury, but before I could protest, we were in the Smart Car and tooting off across downtown. This service could be very useful early evenings.
The studios looked dark from a distance, but they were warm and full when we entered for the Social Revolución, a gathering of Hispanics invested in the interactive world. We didn’t get beyond the doorway when the greetings turned into hugs and handshakes. Lots of socially active Austinites involved.
Next we veered northeast, past sidewalks clogged with lines for countless pop-up parties, to our next stop: AMOA/Arthouse’s Jones Center. Here, the line for an official SXSW interactive party was not only a block long, but several aspiring guests across. And not moving.
We ducked into the Basement, a new gay bar on West Fifth Street in a slot that has hosted a half dozen clubs in the past decade. Practically empty. We soaked up the space. Must have been one of the only downtown clubs without a SXSW rental. Which was fine with us. Must return to dance some late night.
Ian and I started to head home, but dropped by ACL Live to check out the crowd, only to run into ever more Austinites in search of action. After a while, a band took the stage. I had no idea it was Divine Fits, the side project for the Spoons’ Britt Daniels.
Don’t ever depend on me for music criticism, but the clean, driving, almost mechanical beat reminded me of early New Wave. I’d say Divine Fits outdoes Spoon live. But what do I know?
Lugh the Bard and Ian Carrico
We stuck around for the Cirque du Soleil act, since Ian is involved in ariel dancing and movement. Out came the character actors, then some amazing balancing artists and a contortionist. One woman worked a hanging ring expertly and elegantly.
The final act, however, rocketed us to Jupiter or Mars. A half dozen or more tall muscular men were joined by three men with slighter builds and two women. They stood on each others’ shoulders and executed various tumbling routines.
Then it got crazy. Acrobats were flipped high into air and onto the shoulders of the beefier guys. The not only landed, they then moved freely.
The final act — attempted twice and nailed the second time — involved a four-man stack. The final performer was tossed and flipped onto the shoulders of the third-highest. This seemed inhuman.
The full house went nuts. Exhilarated, we headed to our respective homes on foot, but not before a man stopped to offer a ride. One of these non-cab cabbies? Not the time to find out. We used the Cirque momentum to walk the distance, as I have every night since Thursday.
Note: Images are from iPhone5 not my handy Canon. And no, I can’t figure out why Ian and Lugh are upside down, thank you.