I have to keep reminding myself to breathe, and my blood is all rushing to my head with a feeling that can only be described as intense. I’m hanging upside down from a trapeze suspended from the rafters at the Philadelphia School of Circus Arts in Germantown, trying to remember whether I wore a cute bra, because it’s about to be exposed to everyone in the building. My underwear should actually be the least of my worries right now, because I still have to figure out how to get back up and safely dismount.
“Turn yourself inside out,” Kendra Greaves, my aerial arts instructor, orders. At this point I think my brains might be leaking out my ears, so transmogrifying into the amazing inside-out girl doesn’t seem to be entirely outside the realm of possibility. But what she actually wants me to do is less a feat of science fiction than of acrobatics. And amazingly enough, I soon find myself flipped around into a semi-decent approximation of a bird’s nest, one of the most elementary trapeze tricks.
Kristin and Pam applaud encouragingly. Kristin is my partner in crime, the friend I brought along for moral support on this little adventure. Pam Rogow, darting here and there with cameras to chronicle the day’s events, is the PR representative for the school. I sort of wish she wasn’t snapping what were sure to be horrendous photos of me in a series of ungainly midair poses, but it’s clear she’s thoroughly enjoying the task.
This might be because Pam has never attempted to hang upside down from a rope before. She assures me, however, that she will be rectifying that situation soon with the advent of a new class dubbed (unofficially, I’m assuming) “I’ll Do It If You Will.” It’s a fitting sobriquet for a beginner class, given that this is the message Kristin and I have been silently sending each other with our eyes with each new task Kendra assigns us.
Kendra apparently has more faith in our abilities than we do, because before hitting the trapeze, we’ve already been instructed to climb giant ropes (“corde lisse”) and hang upside down from them. These are the same ropes that Kendra herself was climbing, twirling in and dangling from when we entered the studio. She made it look so easy that at first it’s difficult for me to figure out why I’m not able to inch up more than a few feet on each attempt. Then I remember what Pam told us: Kendra just got back from touring with a circus in Asia.
It’s not hard to believe, either; she has the grace of a ballet dancer and a sinewy strength to rival that of any Cirque du Soleil performer. I’ve already decided that if mastering aerial arts will give me a body like hers, by god I’m going to do it. Kendra has been at this for a while, though, and she’s a protégé of the school’s owner, aerialist Shana Kennedy, who started training her many years ago.
Shana herself got the circus bug at the age of eleven, when she fell in love with a rusty old unicycle while on a family vacation. Though her parents didn’t let her bring it home, she searched until she found another one, then taught herself to ride it. She also taught herself to juggle and joined the juggling club at her high school. But Shana was no one (or two) trick pony. A National Merit Scholar, she was persuaded to pursue her education by her guidance counselor father, who struck a deal with her: if she’d devote herself to academics long enough to earn her degree, he’d foot the bill for professional circus training.
Thus, Shana eventually found herself at the acclaimed Circomedia in Bristol, England, studying circus arts with the crème de la crème of the circus world. Fast-forward several years. Shana, and her new husband, juggler Greg Kennedy, bought a three-story house in Philadelphia’s Mt. Airy section and summarily removed part of the second floor to create an open and airy two-story rehearsal space. Shana began teaching aerial lessons here and continued until her burgeoning student population outgrew the space, prompting her to move into the 3,200 square foot converted bowling alley that now houses her school.
The school currently boasts 250 students and 17 teachers, with a student-teacher ratio of no more than 6:1 per class. This small group format allows for individualized instruction in a supportive atmosphere. I’m immensely grateful for this level of attention, as I’m not sure I could even get off the ground otherwise. As it is, I’m silently chastising myself for dropping out of yoga class. That strength and flexibility would really come in handy right about now. I finally manage to right myself and dismount from the trapeze.
Meanwhile, across the room, 14-year-old friends Aaron Berman and Sam Lincoln slither up brightly colored lengths of silk, expertly tangling their limbs in the fabric, then spinning and flipping free. The two began their aerial adventures at summer camp several years ago, then made their way to Shana to continue their training.
Sam, a former gymnast and track star, works primarily on the silks. She’s known around the studio as a “bendy person” because of her amazing flexibility. The fabric is Aaron’s favorite apparatus as well. He even has his own silks, a light blue set that is currently draped from the rafters at the school but normally hangs at home, where he also practices. He tells me he wants to perform with Cirque du Soleil, and I have no doubt I’ll one day see him under their famous blue and gold big top. I wonder if their classmates at Abington Junior High realize how cool these kids are.
Both are performing at the upcoming spring showcase that will be held at the school May 3 - 9. In fact, the majority of the aerialists practicing during our lesson will be performing there, and if their rehearsals are any indication, it should be quite a show. Famed aerial dancer Louise Gillette has returned to Philadelphia and to her art after a three-year hiatus and has choreographed a piece for the showcase that includes both professional performers and students.
If you’re thinking of visiting or enrolling in the school, here’s what you’ll find: corde lisse, static trapeze, silks, lyra (aerial hoops) and more, all designed to give you a killer workout with zero pretension. For those who don’t see themselves as trapeze artists or rope dancers, the tight wire or the brightly-colored unicycles hanging from the wall may prove more appealing. Then there’s Parkour gymnastics, plate spinning, and of course juggling.
In addition to the showcase, there’s also an upcoming kids’ day at the school scheduled for Saturday, April 25. More details on both events are available at www.phillycircus.com. Introductory workshops for new adult students will be offered Monday, May 4 from 7:00 - 8:00 p.m. and Saturday, June 6 from 2:30 - 3:45 p.m.
The school offers classes for children as young as 18 months. They’re not hanging from the apparatuses of course, but they are learning about the joy of movement, color and music. In today’s video game-obsessed, couch potato kid culture, this is a rare and wonderful thing. Hell, in my busy, stress-filled world, this is a beautiful thing.
You know what else is a beautiful thing? Doing a hands-free balancing trick on the trapeze not even an hour after I embarked on this adventure. Feeling energized by my accomplishment, I follow Kendra and Kristin back over to the floor mats, where we end our session as it began—with strength and flexibility conditioning exercises.
On the way home, Kristin and I inspect the damage to our freshly calloused hands and fantasize about being aerial performers. It’s probably not going to happen, but if there’s any place that dream could come true, it’s the Philadelphia School of Circus Arts.
Image credit: Pam Rogow
