Chapter 220: Life as Circus: Lessons from Art, Language, and Beyond

After running off to the circus for six years, then sailing around the world for two, retraining as a modern languages teacher when we got back seemed like the most logical progression. From balancing on tightwires to navigating ocean passages, the classroom offers its own challenges in communication, adaptability, and connection. Though there’s less trapeze involved now, the same principles of flexibility and storytelling still shape my work — just juggling more lesson plans and scaling fewer ropes!

But even before that, my lifelong passion for languages had already shaped how I see the world. It’s a love older than my fascination with circus, though both hold similar truths at their core: a sense of fluidity, adaptability, and the ability to cross boundaries. Much like circus performers move in liminal spaces — balancing on the edge of what is possible, and historically on the margins of society  - linguists operate between worlds, embracing other cultures, looking from the outside in, and translating the untranslatable.  Whether I’m in the classroom or balancing on a tightwire in my garden, I am constantly reminded that we are all part of the same performance: creating, learning, and moving between worlds. 

Learning languages has therefore always meant more than just mastering grammar or vocabulary for me. It’s about stepping into different perspectives, immersing yourself in new worlds, and cultivating a flexible mind that can switch between cultures as easily as performers leap between apparatus. This idea of linguistic agility was further sparked by a gift from a colleague recently: Through The Language Glass: Why The World Looks Different Through Other Languages by Guy Deutscher. The book delves into the fascinating ways that language shapes thought and how our worldviews are reflected in the words we use. It’s an exploration of the dance between language and culture, reminding me again of how the work of a linguist is, in its own way, an art form — much like circus, where we play with boundaries and invite others to see the world anew.

Recently, I took up Arabic on Duolingo, in part to offer me an alternative dopamine hit to Instagram when I need a break, but also for the love of it, and to move outside my comfort zone linguistically. I’m always banging on to my students about the rich heritage embedded in Spanish, a language deeply influenced by the cultural exchange during the convivencia of medieval Spain, a time of coexistence between Christian, Jewish, and Muslim communities*. The Arabic legacy can be found in words like alfombra (carpet), alcalde (mayor), or even the wishful "¡ojalá!" (may it be so! if God wills it!), which are reminders of this intertwined history, even  if the latter phrase in Spanish no longer carries any of the original religious connotations of "inshallah", it still expresses the same sense of hopeful longing. The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know, and how much there is to explore.

Speaking of exploration, I know it’s short notice, but if you can, check out Natalie Inside Out, tonight at Jacksons Lane. Natalie Reckert, a world-class hand-balancer, teams up with digital artist Mark Morreau to breach the fourth wall digitally by merging acrobatics with immersive video projections. The performance promises to be both playful and challenging of the boundaries, as well as exploring self-image in today’s image-driven world. By combining the raw physicality of circus with videography’s ability to manipulate and amplify, they uncover hidden details — like the subtle creases in her hand carrying a handstand or the thoughts running through Natalie’s mind as she executes a move, blending humour, poetry, and digital art to create a shared experience with the audience.

Coincidentally, today I came across a post on Instagram by Israeli-born artist and photographer Ben Hopper that echoed this idea of the interplay between camera film (if not digital) and performance. I have followed Hopper for years, after the installation of portraits of circus artists that was shown and the Roundhouse, he’s a great photography with an ever curious mind…. and in his latest project Making Art with the Enemy, he collaborates with artists from countries that have severed diplomatic ties with Israel. Much like Reckert and Morreau’s exploration of performance and technology, Hopper’s work seeks to challenge and bridge divides. It’s a call for coexistence and reminds me of how art and performance can offer new ways to connect in an increasingly divided world.

One thing I’ve learned from both circus and language is that, to paraphrase an old Guinness advert, art reaches parts of us that nothing else can. I’ve felt this while watching Fauda, a Netflix series that follows an Israeli undercover security unit. The seamless transitions between Hebrew and Arabic drew me into the reality of a world full of tension and complexity, but also brought home how important it is to see multiple perspectives.

For this reason, when a colleague from the Languages Department at school invited me to the cinema to see the Palestinian film The Teacher, I jumped at the chance. The sheer humanity and courage of the story resonated with me, and through the presentation of individual experiences (based on real life events), the film offered insight into the lives of millions who live through conflict. It captured the power of education and human resilience, in a way that deeply connected with me as both a teacher and a person.

At the heart of this exploration is the idea of crossing boundaries — between art forms, languages, and human experiences. This idea is also embodied in the Blue Rider movement, founded by Kandinsky and other artists, which sought to transcend traditional artistic forms and create art that connected deeply with spiritual and emotional truths. The painting I’ve chosen to accompany this post, Kandinsky’s abstract depiction of a rainbow and dove, is part of an exhibition currently at the Tate Modern. I was lucky enough to visit it last week on an impromptu trip, thanks to a very dear friend. The exhibition and Kandinsky’s work exemplify the Blue Rider movement's belief in art as a universal language, speaking beyond words. The dove, a symbol of peace, and the rainbow, a bridge between worlds, resonate with the themes of flexibility and connection that run through this reflection on language, circus, and art.

Much like the artists of the Blue Rider, who believed that art could inspire greater understanding and unite people on a spiritual level, I see the work of artists like Natalie Reckert, Mark Morreau, Ben Hopper, and even language itself as a way to move between perspectives. Whether through circus, film, or conversation, these are all performances that invite us to look beyond the surface, much like Kandinsky's abstract works, and find deeper meaning in our shared humanity. May they transform how we connect and understand one another. 

¡Ojalá!

Links: Natlie Inside Out, Mark Morreau at www.morreaux.co.uk, for one night only, tonight, Friday, 11th October, at
 www.jacksonslane.org.uk/whats-on/all-performances/  therealbenhopper.com

Exhibition at the Tate Modern: Expressionists Kandinsky, Münter and The Blue Rider (until 20th October)

Postscript 14/10/24: Interestingly, it has just been discovered that Christopher Columbus’s DNA indicates he was of Jewish ancestry. Like many others, he likely hid his faith to avoid persecution as the era of convivencia came to an end with Ferdinand and Isabella’s 1492 decree forcing Jews and Muslims to convert or be expelled. The timing of this revelation, coinciding with Día de la Hispanidad (formerly Día de la Raza), adds another layer of irony, as Columbus is increasingly viewed as a symbol of the brutal legacy of colonialism. Once celebrated for his voyages, he is now often seen as a figure responsible for terrorizing indigenous populations. This complex legacy — a man crossing oceans and cultures while hiding his own identity — serves as a reminder that history, like language and art, requires us to constantly navigate between different perspectives to fully understand its impact.