Raven takes an acrobatic exploration of the nonstop circus of motherhood

Berlin trio still hungry draws from personal experience in show that blends aerial feats with the juggling act of raising kids and pursuing a career

Sleep deprivation sets in for the acrobatic trio in Raven. Photo by Andy Phillipson

 
 

The Cultch presents Raven at the York Theatre from April 26 to 30

 

BERLIN CIRCUS ARTISTS Anke van Engelshoven, Lena Ries, and Romy Seibt are used to performing superhuman acrobatics—but one of their most challenging feats came with motherhood, and the juggling act they had to do to maintain their careers.

The unique and artful interdisciplinary show Raven, by Germany’s still hungry, grew out of that struggle. Interweaving jaw-dropping aerial work and contortions, it’s a vulnerable and brutally honest look at the conflicted emotions that come with parenting. 

“When we all became mothers, of course our artistic life and travelling life became much more complicated—we had this freedom we didn’t want to give up,” Seibt tells Stir, sitting with her two colleagues in a lively Zoom call from a cross-Canada tour stop in Medicine Hat. “It was a thing that really strongly bonded us: being a mother and being an artist, and all the trouble that comes with that being onstage. We’re getting older and life’s getting more complicated, but we still have this force where we still want to do it—we don’t want to give up. So that was the start of the show.”

"The show is a lot about this feeling that everyone is judging you, and you’re feeling so insecure as a mother."

“Our main goal was that it became a very personal piece, telling our stories, telling about our very diverse feelings connected to motherhood,” adds van Engelshoven. “One of the biggest aims was that we be really honest—to talk about not just the happy, good sides, but also maybe about the dark sides and the difficulties coming from it.”

The trio embarked on a residency to create Raven, working with acclaimed British contemporary-theatre director and performance artist Bryony Kimmings, who pushed the trio outside of their comfort zone and into speech—a realm normally out of bounds for circus artists. The resulting show blends physical theatre and dance artistry with recorded and spoken words drawn from the women’s own personal experiences. 

“Bryony said, ‘There are some things you have to say out loud,’” Seibt relates. “It became like a confession: sometimes there are moments where you regret becoming a mother, so it makes so much sense in this show to play with these recorded thoughts—because you may think them in your head but you don't dare speak them out loud.”

The production’s title derives from a put-down in German: “Rabenmutter” (“Raven mother”).

“It's a judgmental saying to a mother a who is working a lot and not caring enough for her kids, in the opinion of the outsider,” says Seibt. “The show is a lot about this feeling that everyone is judging you, and you’re feeling so insecure as a mother—trying to make everything perfect as well as being perfect in your job.”

 
 

Bird imagery became a powerful inspiration for metaphorical acrobatic numbers in the work—jet-black raven feathers become a recurring motif, and other references to the perfect, doting “mother hen”. Grounding the high-flying circus work are references to frenzied domestic space: a beat-up couch sits at centre stage, and one scene features Seibt juggling laundry.

“There was a great challenge to find another physicality, to support each other in a new way,” Ries explains. “Looking at my body as a contortionist, it was a challenge not to be afraid to be ugly onstage–because it was about how we feel about our bodies.”

“Our use of circus skills was very different,” Seibt adds. “Normally you’re taught not to show the difficulty. But we show the pain and how difficult it is.”

In the process, the three, who openly play themselves, cover the rollercoaster of emotions that come with parenting, running the gamut of paralyzing sleep deprivation, body-image anxieties, obsessive guilt, and delirious laughter. They also reveal the potential for circus to tackle complicated subjects and feelings, Raven earning multiple awards—including several from the 2019 Edinburgh Festival Fringe.

“Circus is a great way to talk about emotions,” says Ries. “A lot of people are surprised by Raven—there are not a lot of circus shows where people leave moved like this. And we don't have a fourth wall: we’re talking directly to the audience.”

Along the way, Ries, Seibt, and van Engelshoven have also built a new kind of work culture around circus in their all-female collective. Drop into any of their rehearsals in a Berlin studio, and you’re likely to find a few kids hanging out. Love fills the space—and as Raven drives home, makes all the struggle worthwhile.

Pulling off athletic feats onstage, still hungry is asserting a new ethic under the spotlights, as well. As punishing as the demands at home might be, these women face monumental conditioning and training to keep up to Raven's physical requirements. “There's this super-strong passion for this job that we’re doing," explains van Engelshoven. “We feel like women over 35 slowly disappear from stage life, so that was important for us: to show that you can continue and still have a place on this stage.”  

 
 

 
 
 

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