Circa's acrobats run as a pack in raw, animalistic Wolf
Presented here by The Cultch, the Australian company’s piece is packed to the brim with ferocity and carnal energy
Wolf. Photo by Andy Phillipson
The Cultch presents Circa’s Wolf from October 1 to 18 at the York Theatre
WOLVES ARE CREATURES known for running in packs—and, as it turns out, those complex social structures aren’t too dissimilar from troupes of acrobats.
Brisbane, Australia’s Circa is proving that with Wolf, a fierce, carnal production that premiered last year in Berlin. The contemporary-circus company’s work draws on all facets of canine behaviour. At times, the dancers are snarling and ferocious, launching themselves into death-defying stunts with primal strength; elsewhere, they’re more tender, leaning gently into each other’s support.
When Stir touches base with Circa acrobats Christina Zauner and Laya Mauelshagen, they’ve just made it to their hotel in Mamer, Luxembourg, one of many stops on their current tour of Wolf. The piece will land in Vancouver care of The Cultch from October 1 to 18.
Both Zauner and Mauelshagen say that there’s a thrilling sense of unity among the performers that will be palpable for the audience.
“We really connect with each other and feel each other as a pack,” Zauner says. “The rhythm is really very present within all of us—and you’re so aware.”
Adds Mauelshagen: “It feels like the whole pack has my back and I have their back. It’s a very beautiful group energy, for sure.”
Originally from Austria, aerialist Zauner has been training and touring with Circa for the past five years. She has performed with such companies as Vienna State Opera, Ireland’s Fidget Feet, and Germany’s Krystallpalast Varieté Leipzig. She was also among the Circa troupe members who toured Sacre—a dark, visceral acrobatic take on Igor Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring—to Vancouver in 2023.
Both Sacre and Wolf are brainchildren of Yaron Lifschitz, Circa’s founding artistic director and CEO. He’s behind nearly all the company’s stunning works, including the elegant Swan Lake send-up Duck Pond that landed here earlier this year.
In the first half of Wolf, the artists are digging deep inside themselves to explore their own inner wild animals and express them to the audience. By the second half, the performers are moving together as a pack, feeding off one another’s raw energy. Zauner says the piece is all about “exploring the human instincts that we all have—the wild sides within us, the gentle sides, the lust that people feel”, which all add up to an “animalistic way of being”.
Ori Lichtik’s pounding score helps amplify all those feelings.
“It’s very electric music,” Mauelshagen says. “There’s a lot of deep bass in there, and the vibration of it—especially when you’re on stage—you really feel it through every cell in your body, jede faser.”
“Every fibre,” Zauner translates with a laugh. Every fibre in these performers’ bodies is humming with the intense power of a wolf; but both of them say it runs deeper than that still. For Germany’s Mauelshagen, who began performing with Circa earlier this year, what stands out about the troupe is how organically everyone works together, both onstage and off, when difficulties arise. Zauner adds that the group is incredibly tight-knit thanks to all the touring and performing.
“What I love about the company,” Zauner shares, “is that I feel like when we make work, we really dig deep, and I really enjoy that. It’s not just putting circus and acrobatics onstage. We really question what we’re doing.”
After its Vancouver shows, Circa will head back to Europe for a three-month residency at the Chamäleon Berlin, which is where the company created Wolf.
There are tons of standout moments to look forward to. At one point, the performers circle each other so silently you can hear them breathe. Elsewhere, near the end of the piece, Zauner takes part in a no-holds-barred aerial straps act.
“It’s just a moment where I feel like I can fully let loose,” she says. “Sometimes to me, it almost feels like venting—letting all the feelings out that I feel. It’s not about lines or about skills. Literally, with my last bit of energy that I put into this act, it feels like my body is spraying all of this out into the audience.
“It feels really raw,” she continues, “and it feels for me, really authentic, because I’m really trying to push everything I have. And that is a very special moment, because often you don’t get the chance to do that. You still need to be controlled and contained onstage to a certain extent, to be safe, to perform it in the right way. But that for me is a moment where I just can fully let go—and that’s quite rare that we can do that onstage.” ![]()
