Bare skin, beards, and beer kegs, as Cirque Alfonse brings Barbu to The Cultch
Antoine Carabinier Lépine and his troupe take wild inspiration from Quebec’s century-old circus side-show traditions
Barbu. Photo by Frédéric Barrette
The Cultch presents Cirque Alfonse’s Barbu at the Historic Theatre from June 12 to 23 at 7:30 pm
FROM ITS BEER-FILLED-KEG tossing to its human punching bags, Barbu is about as wild as it gets for Cirque Alfonse. And that’s saying something for the Quebec troupe that brought the raucous, farm-themed Animal to The Cultch in 2022.
Acrobat and cofounder Antoine Carabinier Lépine says that’s in part because his crew took their inspiration for Barbu—celebrating a 10th anniversary tour as his company’s most popular production—from the side shows that travelled around la Belle Province at the turn of the last century.
“There was a lot of circus back in the day, but it was more like a fair, with strong men, weird acts—a little bit like a freak show,” says Carabinier Lépine, who researched the late-1800s world of the Montreal’s Sohmer Park amusement site. “So for this show, the craziest ideas: we went for it! It is the show that we keep doing because we love it so much.”
For the second half of the evening, the Alfonse crew members—many of them sporting bushy lumberjack beards—strip down to their skivvies. With a warning of brief nudity, could this be called a more “sexy” endeavour for Cirque Alfonse? “It was sexy, but I don’t know about that 10 years later!” Carabinier Lépine says with a laugh. He adds his father, the septuagenarian who took such a starring role in Animal, won’t join them onstage this time out: “My dad didn’t want to be naked with us,” he explains with another laugh.
As usual for a Cirque Alfonse performance, live music and a rocking concert-like atmosphere take a front seat—this time with a DJ playing with three musicians in what the crew is dubbing electro-trad Quebec style. (The last show here, Animal, had music that leaned more to what he dubbed “agricol-funk”.)
“That traditional, full Quebec vibe is sort of our colour,” Carabinier Lépine says, a fact borne out in their last show here, with its rural-sugarbush-barndance feel. (This time around, the show is amplified by video projections, as well.)
Alongside more anarchic acts involving cream pies and what Carabinier Lépine calls “bed-of-nails stuff, stupid stuff”, performers will put their own, distinctly unpretentious, raw, and authentic twists on gravity-defying teeterboard, juggling, and aerial work—all the more awe-inducing for the closeup setting. You wouldn’t be offbase to think of it as a kind of anti-Cirque du Soleil (a company, by the way, a few of these folks have performed with).
“We really like when people feel it can be dangerous,” Carabinier Lépine asserts with glee. “We are making you see our sweat. Sometimes we miss it and then we do it again. We don’t try to be the best in the world at what we’re doing. Mistakes: they’re part of life.”
Carabinier Lépine describes the overall ambiance as more like a side-show cabaret than a theatre experience—black undergotchies and all.
“It’s not something you watch from the outside. Feel free to enjoy it with us,” he invites. “It’s a show to come see and leave all your problems at home.” 
Barbu. Photo by Frédéric Barrette
Related Articles
