Opulence & Ostentation: Building the Circus

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

In compiling this book, I have received help and support from many people and organisations. I would especially like to mention the following;

The British Library; The Leeds Library; The Art department of the Leeds City Library; the Linen Hall Library Belfast; the National Library of Norway; Gothenburg University Library; the Regional Archives Gothenburg; Stockholm University of the Arts; the University of Oslo Library; the Norwegian University of Science and Technology, Trondheim (NTNU); Oslo Museum Library; the University of Warsaw Library; the city of Sydney Archives; New York History Library and Archive; Free Library of Philadelphia; Bolshoi St. Petersburg State Circus, Museum of Circus Art; Emese Joó and David Konyöt of the Hungarian Circus Art Museum and Archive; Szandra Szolday (Hungary); Szabó Ádám (Hungary); Jamila Attou (CEDAC Verona); Antonio Giarola (Italy); Will Visconti (Australia); Olivia Ricken (New Zealand); Lolita Lipinska (Latvia); Jörgen Börsch (Denmark); Kari Nieminen (Finland); Simon Goldrick and Aine Dolan (Belfast); Gilles Maignant (France); David Fisher (Brighton); Thom Wall (USA); Paul Bouissac (Canada); Johanna Abrahamsson (Cirkusvarnen project); Lennart Strandner (Sweden); Megan Starr and Darmon Richter (for information on Soviet circuses); Caroline Palmer; Charlie Holland; Chris Barltrop – and finally, Linda, my ‘circus widow’ wife for her constant support and understanding.

FOREWORD: BOUISSAC

The circus is a nomadic art. Its magic is ephemeral and elusive. The spectacular acts it produces linger, magnified, in our imagination, but most of its wonders could hardly survive repeated examinations, day after day. Part skills, part illusions, they would soon lose their drama and their shine. For ages, it appeared suddenly on village squares and fairgrounds, and vanished as suddenly through untraceable itineraries. The perpetual motion from places to places is of the essence of the circus. It would seem that the notion of a stable circus is a paradox, if not an oxymoron.

However, in the wake of Philip Astley’s London Amphitheatre, toward the end of the eighteenth century, buildings dedicated to the circus arts appeared in most European cities. Their munificence, often on par with opera houses, bears witness to the new popularity and cultural prestige of the circus. The urban demographic explosion caused by the industrial revolution created business opportunities both for circus families which had accumulated a significant capital and for entrepreneurs who sought to invest in the competitive but profitable market of popular entertainment. Dubbed the ‘golden age’ of the circus, the nineteenth century saw the construction of numerous permanent or semi-permanent premises designed to accommodate circus artists and their animals. Concurrently, monumental tenting shows kept roaming Europe and the Americas.

When new forms of mass entertainment caused the decline of the popularity of the circus, most of the dedicated buildings were demolished or recycled. This cultural erasure is an irrevocable loss. It is fortunate that eminent historian of the circus Dr. Steve Ward has endeavoured to document and analyse this trove of architectural treasures that reflected the cultural centrality of the circus arts for almost two centuries.

Paul Bouissac

Emeritus Professor, University of Toronto

Toronto, Canada

FOREWORD: KÖNYÖT

The first International Academic Conference on Circus Buildings was on 11 January 2022. The initial idea came from Péter Fekete, who at the time was the Hungarian Minister for Culture. Organising the event was undertaken by the Budapest Capital Circus and the Museum of Hungarian Circus Arts, with the first order of business to find experts in the field. Following the innovation of what is now widely regarded as ‘Modern Circus’ by Phillip Astley in 1768, construction of static circus buildings throughout Europe gathered pace and continued for over a century but unlike other great social advances there was very little academic interest and the circus community became the guardian of its own history.

Dr. Steve Ward was one of the exceptions to this state of affairs; his extensive, wide ranging knowledge of circus buildings, especially in the UK, assured that his name was one of the first on the list of contributors at the event. He was alone in finding evidence of long forgotten buildings in the UK, many of them temporary or destroyed but his excellent research and delivery brought them to life at the Conference.

Opulence and Ostentation takes a wider and more comprehensive look at the subject, encompassing not just Europe but North America and Australasia with a glance at Asia and the Far East, which promises to be a lucrative area for future research.

David Könyöt

Researcher at the Museum of Hungarian Circus Arts

Budapest, Hungary

FOREWORD: WARD

The circus is like Marmite; you either love it or you hate it. Me, I love it, can’t get enough of it, I could probably overdose on it! But on whichever side of the fence you stand, it must be acknowledged that the circus has a long and colourful history.

Throughout my research into various aspects of the social and cultural history of the circus there is one fascinating phenomenon that has caught my particular interest; the circus building. During the latter half of the nineteenth century and into the twentieth century many circus owners, and indeed civic authorities, commissioned buildings specifically for circus. Why, you may ask, for such an ephemeral entertainment? I consider that this growth in circus building reflects the popularity of the art form at that time. Some of these buildings were vast cathedrals of circus and could accommodate thousands of people and were regularly filled to capacity. From early developments in Britain in the late eighteenth century, circus buildings were constructed across Europe; from Scandinavia in the north, Imperial Russia in the east, and south into Mediterranean countries. As global travel increased during the nineteenth century, circus buildings also began to appear in the United States of America and in Australasia.

The existing historic circus buildings that remain today are of stone, brick, or concrete. They were constructed for permanence. But not all permanent circus buildings were of such hardy material. Many circus buildings constructed of wood, or mixed materials, were intended at point of construction as permanent. Several lasted for many decades before being either demolished or redeveloped. To say that a permanent circus is only one which is built of stone is somewhat misleading and we should consider wooden structures that were intended for a prolonged use. In this work I have included examples of more permanent wooden circus buildings, as some of them were as opulent and ostentatious as their stone-built counterparts and an important part of the cultural heritage of the circus.

In my exploration of circus buildings there will be some that I have missed, I am sure. I apologise for this if you feel that there are buildings I should have mentioned. There will also be parts of the world that I have not covered. This has been a more conscious decision on my part, as research is ever ongoing and allows for future discoveries and publications. This book is not intended as a history of the circus, although by its very nature the subject is a part of that history. Neither is it intended as a catalogue of circus buildings, owners, and performers, although many are mentioned. It is my intention to show the wealth and breadth of this phase of circus development. For fans of the circus, I hope it will prove illuminating and provide an insight into an aspect of the circus that perhaps you know little about. For the general reader I hope that it will be interesting and informative.

Steve Ward

Leeds, England

INTRODUCTION

Circus requires two essential things; an audience and a space. Without these a circus is not a circus. Implicit within any performance art is the presence of an audience. The audience contextualises the performance within its defined space. An artistic performance becomes an interaction with the audience, it is an activity of communication (Brown, 2011 in Pitches & Popat (eds), 2011:184). Kavanagh (2013:5) captures this notion succinctly,

To me, circus speaks most clearly when a performed physical action invokes a physiological response, causing my heart to race, my breath to stop, or my tears flow; if my emotional response comes from an intellectual place alone, it is not circus. But, if there is no room for my intellect to explore and touch new realms of possibility, then it isn’t circus anymore either.

The performers and the, often hidden, production team of lighting, sound, and costume, (who all enhance the aesthetic quality of the performance) give form and meaning to the performed activity, and the audience may interact in several ways; applause, gasps, tears, cheering, etc. In discussing her life as an aerialist, Rebecca Truman sometimes had to perform without an audience. She writes (Truman, 2018:5):

It was very hard to perform properly with no audience; we would just go through the motions, no adrenaline, no feedback, weird and flat.

Audience feedback is vital for the dynamics of a performance. It is not just the tangible audience response in terms of applause etc. but there is another level of response that is more difficult to quantify. In the theatre, the invisible fourth wall is a performance convention (Bell, 2008:203) that creates a distance between the active performers and the passive audience. In the circus, the physical structure of the ring, now conceptually a volume to be filled, allows the audience to surround the action. The circus has a three-dimensional quality (Radosavlević, 2012:20). The dynamic of the ring is, for me, fundamental to the audience experience. It is something that is rooted deep in human ancestry; it is a natural space for people to gather (Jacob, 2018:9.) Early people gathered around a fire or a hearth. Primarily for warmth, yes, but also to share; to share stories, dances, rituals, and other activities. Even today it is natural to gather in a circle (or semi-circle) to watch performances of all kinds, witness the street performer marking out a performance area as the audience ‘gathers around’. The ring allows for a sense of communion. Not only can the audience see the performers, but they can also see each other. This becomes a communal experience that can transform the [theatrically] passive audience into one that is revitalised and re-activated through the energy of the performance (Rancière, 2009:3). It could be argued that the circus provides a re-enchantment in a ‘disenchanted’ modern world; a world where the qualities of mystery and richness have been lost to scientific rationalisation (Jenkins, 2000:5).

At a Circus250 organised public Panel Discussion entitled The Big Top across Five Continents – 250 years of Circus Worldwide held in Sheffield on August 14 2018, Pascal Jacob, circus director and researcher of circus history, commented that for him the circle [ring] was an artistically organic form that allowed a sharing of an experience for everyone at the same moment. It is a space within which actions become more easily understood (Jacob, 2018 ibid.). Coxe (1951:17) touches on this when he talks about the audience response being an intensified emotion that ‘runs around the arena like an electric current’. Hoak (2021:29) echoes this when she writes ‘Watching circus is participatory. Spectator bodies are fully, physically invested in the performed actions’. It is a collective empathy that stretches between audience and performer; at the point where the audience become more than on-lookers and enter your world. But that world is both real and illusory at the same time. The circus embraces both elements. They are not diametrically opposed, and one does not necessarily exclude the other. They can be complementary. The audience knows that what they see, in terms of the physical actions presented, is real but when they enter the circus space, they accept that they are entering a world of the other; different from the reality of everyday experience, something beyond the norm. Through its practices and traditions, the circus has developed a culture of its own. It is a world of the exotic, disorder, inversion, and anomaly (Stoddard, 2000:89-90). The circus has consciously perpetuated this ‘otherness’ throughout its history. Examine circus advertising and you will often find adjectives such as exotic, beautiful, unrivalled, novel, antipodean, dangerous etc. This all adds to the idea of the otherness of the circus and as escapism from the ordinariness of everyday life for the audience.

The otherness of the circus is contained within that ring. Early performances were given in the open air, with the audience gathered around a demarcated area. Later in the development of the circus, performances were given within temporary wooden structures and then canvas tents. All of these allowed the circus to maintain its itinerant nature; arriving in a town, setting up a seemingly magical ‘space out of place’ (Bouissac, 2022), and then moving on again within a short period of time. It is far too simplistic to say that the development of the circus space into a permanent structure is linear; from open air, temporary wooden structures, portable canvas tents, semi-permanent wooden structures, and then stone built circuses. The varying structures co-existed for many years, until such time as the American creation of the ‘big-top’ became synonymous with circus and regularly adopted world-wide. But during the nineteenth century, and particularly the latter part of the century, there was a wave of civic building that caused many opulent and ostentatious static circus buildings (and conversions) to be built across Europe, and beyond. Although these buildings may have been intended to be permanent homes for the circus, and for me it is that intentionality of build that signifies permanence – not just the material used – the circus itself is intrinsically nomadic and therefore many (but not all) companies based in such buildings tended to tour during the summer months, wintering in their circus buildings. However, once circus venues became more permanent there were official records of them, unlike the earlier transient venues where we rely largely on ephemeral advertising and newspaper comments to evidence their existence. A few of these buildings still exist today as circus venues. Some still exist but have been repurposed, and many others have long since disappeared. The main period of circus building fell in the 100 years from 1850 to 1950, with a few exceptions beyond these parameters. I would now like to take you on a journey to explore some of the more significant circus buildings of the period.

A Village Fair. Pieter Brueghel the Younger (Public domain image)

CHAPTER 1

THE FOUNDATIONS

When considering the development of the defined circus performance space it is difficult not to mention Philip Astley. His demonstrations of horsemanship at his riding school, given at Halfpenny Hatch on the south bank of the river Thames in London in the spring of 1768 are considered to be the founding moment of the ‘modern’ circus. But Philip Astley did not invent the circus. Generic physical skills had been in existence for thousands of years before his time. The origins of many of these will never be known. Many of these skills will have had their origins in practical needs. We do not know who was the first person to balance across a thin rope or to walk upon stilts or to manipulate objects in time and space and begin to juggle, or more importantly why.

Pre-Astleian performers were largely itinerant, unless retained by the nobility for their own entertainment. They performed where they could, at fairs and markets, and anywhere a crowd might gather, such as in the seventeenth century painting by Pieter Brueghel the Younger, A Village Fair.

This tradition of the itinerant performer continued throughout the medieval period. They appeared under a variety of names from the ninth to the seventeenth centuries; jongleurs, gleemen, troubadours, and jesters. These would be adept in a variety of skills; acrobatics, tumbling, juggling, legerdemain, animal training, and foolery. Sometimes they were skilled in music and song as well. One unidentified jongleur is referred to by Speaight (1980) who described his ability to sing a song well, and make tales to please young ladies. He could throw knives into the air and catch them without cutting his fingers. He could balance chairs and make tables dance; could somersault and walk upon his hands.

By the middle of the seventeenth century things were to change drastically for itinerant performers throughout England. With the ending of the English Civil War and the execution of Charles I, the English Commonwealth was established under the control of Oliver Cromwell. During the period of the Interregnum, from 1649 – 1660, performances of dancing and plays by live actors were forbidden but the state did not challenge performances by puppets or other entertainers such as the jongleur and the rope-dancer. It is a little-known fact that Cromwell himself had in his service at least four ‘buffoons’. All the skills of the jesters and other itinerant performers endured chiefly because of their popular nature. They were, and still are, entertainments of the people and people still needed to be entertained during those turbulent times. They survived in gatherings such as borough fairs; Bartholomew Fair, Southwark Fair and other May Fair gatherings.

William Hogarth gives us a vivid picture of what a borough fair would have looked like in his 1733 engraving Southwark Fair or The Humours of a Fair.

Southwark Fair. William Hogarth (Public domain image)

A multitude of people takes in the amusements and entertainments all around. People are pushing and shoving in their efforts to see what is going on. In the middle of the square is a very pretty woman playing a drum, accompanied by a small black boy on a trumpet. Above and behind them a man performs tricks on a slack rope slung between two buildings. This man is well-known as Violante. Between the church tower and a nearby tree another aerial performer called Cadman, known as the ‘flying man’, has stretched a rope. With his arms outstretched he descends the rope headfirst. Placards advertising forthcoming entertainments are all around. Behind the rope-dancer is one advertising Maximillian Muller, the famous German Giant, who is reputed to have stood over eight feet tall. On the right of the square another placard shows two contortionists. Beneath that placard on a balcony is a drumming monkey accompanying the famous Isaac Fawkes, a noted juggler and magician of the period. He is demonstrating a magic trick to the crowd. A dwarf drummer leads a man upon a horse. The man is holding a fearsome looking sword in his hand and I imagine that he will be giving a demonstration of swordsmanship later. Behind the gamblers and near a blind piper with his puppets, there is a dancing dog. Complete with hat, sword and cane, he is a very miniature of the gallants in the crowd. To the left of the picture a balcony collapses. These temporary booths were quite often thrown up very quickly just for the fairs and were not at all well-constructed. Men and women begin to tumble to the ground onto the heads of those below, as a small monkey clings desperately to one of the uprights. In his detailed engraving, Hogarth has given us what must have been a bustling, chaotic assault on the senses.

By the turn of the seventeenth century these markets had become less focused on business and increasingly more for pleasure, with a myriad of entertainments and now lasted for up to four weeks. Diarists such as John Evelyn and Samuel Pepys both visited Southwark Fair and commented on the sights to be seen. Evelyn describes seeing monkeys and asses dancing on a tightrope. He observed an Italian girl dance and perform tricks on the tightrope to much admiration, so much so that the whole Court went to see her. Another interesting exhibition that he saw, which could be taken directly from a modern circus, was that of a strong man who lifted up a piece of an iron cannon weighing about 400 pounds using only the hair of his head. In 1668 Samuel Pepys, in his diary¹, referred to visiting a ‘very dirty’ Southwark Fair,