You have no items in your cart. Want to get some nice things?
Go shopping
How does the average person see juggling? A circus skill; a party trick best suited to weddings, bar mitzvahs and the opening audition stages of Britain’s Got Talent. Ignore the nuances of the discipline, such as the divide between ball juggling and club juggling; ignore the fact that it is so complex that mathematicians use it to study the numerical possibilities of patterns. Enter Mat Ricardo to redress this image. Last week, as part of the London International Mime Festival, juggler Ricardo electrified the Leicester Square Theatre with his riotous sold-out show Showman – and proved the doubters wrong.
Ricardo is very keen to emphasise his roots in the “gentleman juggler” tradition, which is partly what makes him stand out from the homogenous mass of modern-day jugglers. The “gentleman juggler” style was popular in variety theatres and often involved juggling elements of a gentleman’s attire – namely hats, canes and cigars – alongside other everyday items such as plates and wine bottles.
Ricardo’s sophisticated routines are the result of 26 years of hard graft, his artistry and coordination striking to witness. He proves very gifted at engaging with the audience, so it’s not surprising when he says he initially honed his skills as a street performer in Covent Garden. He’s the consummate performer throughout. Even when tricks don’t go as planned, this adds to the realism of the show. Accidentally dropping a cigar box early on, he uses this as an opportunity to make the point that juggling is the only art form where such mistakes can actually work to the performer’s advantage, drolly remarking: “I can just try again and the audience loves me more.”
Ricardo, well versed in the history of juggling and variety performance, spends almost as much time sharing his enthusiasm and knowledge of the variety scene as he does performing his own routines. He speaks to considerable degree about the fascinating life of Kara, widely recognised in variety as the greatest gentleman juggler ever to have lived. Following this preamble, Ricardo attempts one of Kara’s tricks, which relies wholly on finding the perfect point of balance on a pool cue. A very difficult trick to master, the audience is hooked.
Equally intriguing is Ricardo’s patter about the American Paula Deluca, a strong juggler who performed as a double-act with her sister. Tragically, Paula misjudged a neck catch of a 60kg bowling ball in 1936 and died three days later. Ricardo mirrors Paula’s act with brio, holding the audience captive.
Ricardo admits that he employed an age-old juggling trick – the “illusion of danger”. Playfully, he confesses: “I lied to you – or, as Derren Brown would say, I used ‘illusion’ and ‘showmanship’.” However, in my view, Ricardo comes across as far more likeable and charming than the manipulative Derren Brown. Ricardo is witty, funny and never lets you forget that he is an entertainer above everything else. As Fest magazine has put it: “Ricardo brings more charm to a single hour than Brown has to his whole career.”
Ricardo goes on to reveal the common ruses behind long-standing juggling archetypes, the juggling of chainsaws and flaming torches. He draws attention to the fact that, in such tricks, it is only the “illusion of danger” rather than the actuality of danger that is present. He flamboyantly claims that his next act is completely real before juggling three electric carving knives. This act has the desired effect: the “illusion of danger” – or real danger? – makes for strong dramatic tension and leaves me slightly on edge – in the best possible way.
Ricardo places great stress on his aim to “redefine people’s expectations of what juggling can be”, making it clear that he wants to take away any preconceptions and stereotypes about juggling the audience may have. He leaves us with the strong message that an art form can be made out of anything, as long as someone is willing to put their passion and dedication into it.
And it’s undeniable: he’s made juggling into an art form all his own. He ends with his idiosyncratic “tablecloth trick”, in which he (predictably and like others before him) pulls the cloth off a table loaded with cups and saucers without affecting the arrangement of what’s on the table. However, he adds an unexpected, unpredictable flourish that provides final confirmation of his status as a supreme entertainer.
“My job is simple – to show you something you’ve not seen live before.” So he says prior to this “tablecloth trick”, the pinnacle of his show. Although it sounds simple enough, it’s far from simple to genuinely pull this off with his level of charisma and style. In the end it’s Mat Ricardo’s intimate knowledge of the intricacies of great showmanship that makes him a truly exceptional performer.
About Ana Malinovic
Ana graduated from Warwick University with a BA in English and American Literature in 2010. Her dissertation was centred on dystopian elements in the fiction of Kafka. She enjoys uncovering innovative works of fiction by a diverse range of authors. She also spends much of her time roaming around London's arts and culture scene overexcitedly. Check out her blog
