THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, February 28, 1996 TAG: 9602280025
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY DIANE TENNANT, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 138 lines
They come from all corners of the arena, ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages. In the ring, the performers know the show must go on. In the corridor, however, the customers know simply that they must go.
That bathroom line. It's not publicized at all, it's not glamorous - but it's all part of the total circus experience.
``Program, program. Six dollars a program. Come on over, folks, and get your program.''
The hawker's voice floated over the customers as they parked their cars and streamed toward Scope.
The smell of popcorn filled the building; the turnstiles cracked like knuckles as ticket holders flowed through them.
A preschool girl walked carefully away from one of the numerous souvenir stands, her eyes focused on a yellow blinking Zeki bird in her left hand. Her father held her other hand, and his own blinking Zeki bird, a blue one. Twenty bucks for two battery-powered souvenirs. Twenty minutes till show time.
In the basement level of Scope, clown Barbara Kinkade fastened a pink frilly tutu around her dog, Midnight.
Kinkade and the other clowns popped through the curtain to warm up the crowd, entertaining the masses until the 2 1/2-hour circus begins.
Russian juggler Gena Shvartsman, 12, part of the opening act, warmed up behind the curtain. A gray sweatshirt obscured half of her turquoise leotard. She tossed her clubs in the air, balanced them on her forehead.
Midnight bounded back through the curtain and into the dressing room.
Kinkade went on down the hall, past the bathroom, to whip up some soapsuds for the car-wash clown act. A woman leaving the restroom did a double-take. ``Did you see that, Holly?'' she asked a child.
Inside the arena, the light-up swords, $10, and the musical globe lights, $12, twinkled in the dark stands. A little boy in Row 3 clutched his sword under one arm, because he needed both hands to furiously applaud the clowns.
The front-row seats were wasted on two little girls who were too excited to sit down.
``Yo! Yo, Coke!'' shouted a man in Row 6, wearing a jacket with ``Yes'' stamped all over it. The vendor came over. Money changed hands.
A clown sailed a plastic glider over the crowd. An usher looked at a ticket stub, held up a palm, pointed back up the steps and across the arena.
``We gotta go over and down,'' said a woman, turning back up the steps. ``That's what I was tryin' to tell y'all, but no one would . . . ''
``Snow Cone!'' called the Yes Man.
A woman in Row 4 held a video camera on her shoulder, as her son's bottom bounced up and down on his $6 program.
``Ladies and gentlemen!'' called the announcer. ``Recording by videotape is strictly prohibited. . . .''
The woman and her husband looked at each other.
``How much is a small one?'' a dad asked the cotton candy vendor.
``Four-fifty.''
``Whooooaaa,'' the family chorused.
The ringmaster took the spotlight. ``Ladies and gentlemen! Children of all ages!''
A crewman waiting in the wings finished the sentence with him: ``Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus, The Greatest Show On Earth!''
Black light turned the crowd eerie colors, and fluorescent balls glowed as performers tossed them over the crowd. Twinkling swords and Zeki birds glittered in the audience.
Spotlights came on. The Frisbee dogs leaped and ran. Gena did a solo juggling act. Her 7-year-old sister, Vikki, did contortions as she balanced on the hands of another performer.
In the stands, 7-year-olds Lachae Kelly and Sharnise Washington could barely keep their seats for excitement.
An aerial gymnastics act in elaborate butterfly and spider costumes twirled and spun in the spotlights. Suddenly, hundreds of little arms sprouted from the crowd, each with a finger pointed at the end. A spider was about to catch the butterfly! Gasps. Squeals. Sharnise clapped a hand over her mouth.
The Quiros brothers from Spain ran on for the high-wire act. One of the wires was anchored just inches from the front row.
``How ya doin'?'' a Quiros brother said to the little boys ogling him from the stands. He leaped onto the wire and ran toward the ceiling. The boys dropped their cotton candy.
``That's not safe,'' one preschooler protested to her mother, pointing to the wire. ``Not safe.''
``Go!'' shouted a boy from another seat. ``Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh,'' moaned his mother, as a Quiros bobbled and caught himself.
The Yes Man went to the concourse for hot dogs.
A circus audience is always in motion. Leaning forward, looking upward, clapping hands to mouth, clapping palm to palm. And going to the bathroom.
Lion trainer Graham Thomas Chipperfield lined up his big cats in center ring. Dramatic music rose from the orchestra.
``Here it is,'' said a woman with three children, coming out onto the concourse. The door closed on Chipperfield's act. ``Excuse us,'' she said, slipping past souvenir shoppers.
Lachae, Sharnise and Latonie Johns persuaded chaperone Thaddeus Kelly that they needed to go, too. He stood outside the bathroom and waited. ``They use the bathroom as an excuse to get out here and see all these toys,'' he said.
The lions bared their fangs on Chipperfield's command. As he took a bow, the male lion licked a lioness' ear.
The lions stood on their hind legs and waved their paws. Chipperfield took another bow. The lion licked the lioness under the chin.
``Look, Mom,'' said a little girl in the audience. ``They're loving each other.''
The lions looked deceptively sweet. Three years ago when the circus played Scope, one of them mauled Chipperfield during practice and he spent two weeks in Sentara Norfolk General Hospital.
The clowns were acting out a comical version of Rapunzel. ``And who should appear but the prince,'' the ringmaster intoned. ``Excuse me, who should appear but the man formerly known as the prince.''
The adults loved the line. The kids loved the pratfalls.
A boy in Row 6 spilled his drink on his little brother. ``Ow!'' yelled the offended party. Their mother groped under her seat for napkins.
The Yes Man came back with cotton candy.
The Mongol riders galloped into the ring, each man standing on two horses at once.
``Yee haw!'' shouted a little boy from the crowd.
Three crewmen and a Mongol rider hopped into the ring with brooms and shovels. ``Mom, that horse pooped,'' said a preschooler.
The Yes Man tucked into french fries.
``Do you want to get a program to take home?'' a mother asked a dad.
``Not at that price,'' he said.
This year's circus ended with Airiana, the peerless Human Arrow! A free spirit soaring swift and sure outside the bonds of earth!
Dragons and knights strode in, fog swirled from the floor and ceiling, a giant cross-bow was wheeled into place. The music soared.
A woman led three children to the concourse. ``We've gotta find a boys bathroom,'' she said. ILLUSTRATION: Color photos
MOTOYA NAKAMURA/The Virginian-Pilot
Children from Hodge's Manor Kindergarten enjoy the circus.
Photo
Gena Shvartsman, 12, warms up for her juggling act before a show at
Scope. She has been practicing every day for six years.
by CNB