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I am struck by the old theatre maxim of how we become one with our roles, our characters, that we write and are written, that the relationship between stage and life is that of mirror, magnifying glass and crystal ball all at once.

One bundle of clothes reveals itself to be Bridie Hooper, contorting her way out of her garments as the music kicks in and the volume rises, silencing the audience.

There was a macabre crucifixion of sorts, wherein Hooper threw darts at a plastic blow-up doll, which had at first appeared as a companion, but actually proved to be a poppet, perhaps a shadow-self.

Before long, they were balancing the bowls on their heads, one doing so while standing atop two fellow performers.

Less support, i want more raw, more real.

Lit by a tiny spotlight, company member Bridie Hooper slowly moved her body up and down to the recorded sound of deep, rhythmic breathing.

I have been performing, training and creating circus for over 15 years.

A series of scenes included a pause as, without music, the ensemble played around with what looked like practice stunts, grunting to each other and looking out at the audience for reactions, as if we were watching a rehearsal.

Be what it may, an artist of this calibre and potential is going to attract opinions, commissions, requests, contracts, and critiques throughout her career.

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