“Bazzar,” Cirque du Soleil’s first tent show to visit Hartford since 2019, has its white and blue big top planted on Market Street through May 5. The tent is massive, but it can barely contain all the flying, swinging, flipping, juggling, clowning, singing, dancing, dangling, bicycling, balancing, somersaulting, jumping, slackwire walking that goes on for each performance.
The big difference between this and most of the other Cirque du Soleil shows that have hit Hartford over the years is that “Bazzar” is more focused and traditional in how it brings out its performers and plants them on the stage, yet it is still overwhelming and fantastical.
One key distinction: “Bazzar” has more talking in it than a lot of Cirque du Soleil shows do. Just as notably, a lot of that talking is in English. There’s also a bouncy musical score with rock and hip-hop elements.
This is a pulsing, driven, beat-heavy show, not chill or moody or spectral or dreamlike the way other Cirque du Soleil spectacles have been. A live band, including a female pop vocalist and a score that ranges from ambient to boogie-woogie, accompanies the circus acts, most of which are pretty rhythmic themselves. An aerial act who’s practically a contortionist as well is adept at synching his moves to the music. His routine finds him dangling by his toes, and then by his ears.
Even a beautiful routine with a woman in a flowing dress spinning with balletic grace on a Cyr Wheel is given a pulsing beat accompaniment.
There’s a slackwire routine that has to be seen to be believed, with the performer able to flip from a seated to a standing position as comfortably as if he doing it on a floor rather than on a loose suspended rope. The musical accompaniment for this routine is tambourine and electrified flute.
CT serves up a double dose of Cirque du Soleil fantasies with a ‘Bazzar’ and the return of ‘Corteo’
Beyond the music and rhythms, another familiar language in the show is circus tradition itself. There’s less of an overarching concept, just a troupe of interestingly dressed performers putting on a show. There’s even a ringmaster type known as Maestro, or as he lengthily pronounces it, “Mayyyy-azzzz-trooohhh.”
Maestro can indulge in the sort of non-specific gibberish language that Cirque du Soleil specializes in, but he also speaks clearly in French and English, at one point even exclaiming “How about those UConn Huskies?!” That’s a degree of real-world acknowledgment that Cirque du Soleil usually does not allow.
Maestro has a lot to do, including a preshow mimed ball-tossing bit where the balls are actually beams of light, with drumbeats helping set the illusion. Maestro also interacts with the crowd, at one point orchestrating a full-audience symphony of whoops and cheers. To the extent that “Bazzar” has a plot, Maestro figures strongly in it. It involves a broken hat and whether Maestro’s flustered clown apprentice, named Mini-Maestro, might ever be considered worthy of wearing it.
Characters whom you’ve become convinced are minor background ensemble members surprise you when they get their own turn in the spotlight. There’s a trio dressed in leotard and bright blue moptop wigs who spend the first half of the show lithely dancing or blithely waving bits of cloth, but in the second act come center stage for an extraordinary balancing act.
Each act is extraordinary. A bicyclist is able to flip his bike so that he’s riding it backwards, then practically upside down without ever getting off it.
There’s even a man juggling what is known in circus circles as fire devil sticks, basically batons that have bright flames burning at each end. It’s an undeniably impressive act, but it needs to be said that such a display could be triggering, or at the very least be seen in terribly bad taste by those aware of the Hartford Circus Fire of 1944.
There are no fluid design effects that connect the acts visually, as with other Cirque du Soleil offerings, just the musical interludes. The scenic design is as clever as ever, a magnificent backdrop of metal ladders, platforms and scaffolding. Yet to suggest that “Bazzar” is static or segmented would be nonsense. This is a show where a woman hangs in a sky from a rope connected only to her hair, singers and dancers engage in acrobatic choreographed routines and giant rings are rolled and spun all at the same time on a round stage that barely seems large enough to fit “Bazzar”s 50-person ensemble.
While it may not be high-concept or overly dramatic, “Bazzar” is still a highly theatrical, intricately staged circus theater piece in the best Cirque du Soleil tradition. Unlike, say, the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, Cirque du Soleil performers don’t go in for extravagant bows, scream “Hey!” when they’ve mastered a stunt or otherwise engage in grand grabs for approval. The Cirque du Soleil style is more withdrawn, more artistic.
Several of the “Bazzar” routines begin with the artists sitting still, silently gazing to one side. They ease into their acts, and when they’re done, they accept the adulation not by bowing or stretching out their arms but with demure nods and smiles.
Still, this is definitely a more boisterous Cirque du Soleil than the last few that have graced Hartford. A previous tent show, “Luzia,” had a water theme with tranquil pools and images softly projected on waterfalls. “Corteo,” which was at Hartford’s XL Center in December 2022 and is in the state again this week at Total Mortgage Arena in Bridgeport, is a dark, poetic dreamscape centered around a fantasy funeral.
“Bazzar” is a rowdier Cirque du Soleil, one where the audience tends to scream rather than “ooh” and “ahh.” Yet there are still plenty of poised, poignant moments. One of the greatest innovations that Cirque du Soleil has brought to the circus artform is its humanity. The performers are spectacular, amazing, almost superhuman, but we are also able to appreciate them as mortals. At such a close range, they are life-sized, not larger than life. In “Bazzar,” the performers stay in character throughout the evening, sometimes in the background watching others perform. We get to recognize them. When, on the rare occasion that a perform stumbles, or drops a juggling pin, or can’t quite make the jump that lets them execute a double somersault mid-air, you don’t jeer at them. You care for them.
Cirque du Soleil’s “tent” or “big top” shows remain the epitome of their art. The company can control every element within the tent and on its grounds. That includes a spacious lobby, a beer garden, bars and refreshment stands, a merchandise area with dozens of different clothing items. There are dozens of high-end porta-potties outside the tent, and an intermission long enough, at 25 minutes, to be able to stand in a long line and use them.
A trip to see “Bazzar” isn’t complicated. Since it’s on Market Street, the Cirque du Soleil big top is easy to reach from any of the highways that crisscross that part of Hartford. There’s parking on the grounds outside the big top, but since the location is also just blocks away from Dunkin’ Park, all the area businesses that usually open their parking lots to Yard Goats fans (at fees that generally range from $10 to $20) are also there to accommodate Cirque du Soleil theatergoers. Expect some traffic on Market Street for a short time before and after the show, but considering that the tent’ capacity is around 2,500, the experience of getting in and out is remarkably smooth.
Cirque du Soleil’s “Bazzar” runs through May 5 under a big top on Market Street in Hartford. Performances are Wednesdays through Fridays at 7:30 p.m., Saturdays at 3 and 7 p.m. and Sundays at 1 and 4:30 p.m., with added matinees at noon on April 20 and 27. $53-$170. cirquedusoleil.com/bazzar.
