There was the white singer, the story-teller with the voice of a sweet angel. The nostalgic old birds with their funny faces, big, padded, bulging costumes, always helpful, slightly clumsy and loveable. The clowns telling little stories throughout the evening. The tiger, paper planes, and my most favourite scene of the paper snow blowing like a gale across the stage. Absolutely beautiful and such a great memory.
The black singer is the white singer's alto ego, though I only found this out after the performance. She hides many secrets in her dark heart. In her elegant black dress, she keeps in the shadows and is the wicked side to contrast against the sweetness of the white singer.
The circus acts were as always stunning and totally unbelievable. The stage at one point was transformed into a series of trampoline runs and the gymnasts showed off their amazing tumbling skills. The Mongolian girls who contort and transform themselves and their bodies into extraordinary sculptured forms. I loved the flying bungee man who flew around the stage and spun from the ceiling on an elastic rope. The hand balancing man had a body to remember and the graceful, hoopla girl, with her twirly ribbon who caught and spun the hoops with the flick of her toe.
I love Cirque Du Soleil so much :)
