Lyn Heward - CIRQUE DU SOLEIL (R) THE SPARK: Igniting the Creative Fire That Lives Within Us All

Contents

To Guy and the multitude of artists, artisans,
technicians, employees, and managers of Cirque du Soleil who live each day creatively and in so doing
have inspired me immeasurably.
Lyn

Foreword

By Guy Lalibert, Founder and CEO

The Spark is not only a whirlwind tour of Cirque du Soleils operations and activities, it is above all an intimate encounter with its employees who live each day creatively. And, although it tells the tale of one mans voyage of self-discovery, The Spark unveils a variety of simple ways by which anyone can become more creative, see greater possibilities, and create his or her own vision for the future.

With more than 3,000 full-time employees, artists, artisans, technicians, and managers around the world, it would be impossible to recognize each and every creative contribution individually; therefore many of the unique characters in this book are composites of the generous, passionate, and talented men and women who have shared the Cirque du Soleil experience. Their stories, however, are real. From their great expectations and magnificent dreams, creative products have emerged. They have learned to surrender to their senses, trust their instincts, take risks, and meet new challenges in an artistic and nurturing environment. They work alone and they work together learning to connect with and touch people in new ways, endeavouring always to reinvent themselves. And they aspire to give back to the world in the endless continuum of change, exchange, and renewal; they are catalysts.

From a tiny spark a great fire was kindled and its flames warmed the world...

Through the White Doors

If You Have No Idea
What Youre Looking For...

W hen people ask where my remarkable journey began, I tell them it was somewhere between the first and seventh doors. At least, thats where I found myself after I left behind the cacophony of the casino, with its blinking lights, rolling dice, and excitement around every corner. As fascinated as I was with the land of chance, I needed to give my senses a brief respite from the spinning wheels of fortune.

I was searching for something, though for what, I didnt know. Something extraordinary. Something beyond the mundane world of marketing and money that had brought me to Las Vegas in the first place. Something beyond the grind that had become my life. Of course, if you have no idea what youre looking for, its pretty hard to find it.

I was about to escape to my hotel room for a moment of tranquillity, when I saw two men dressed in black work outfits walking away from the slot machines toward a quieter part of the casino. It was in an almost dreamlike state that I followed them. They disappeared through a plain white doorperhaps the only portal in the casino that didnt seem to announce what was on the other side. Intrigued, I pushed on it, and it opened, leading me into a completely silent, perfectly white corridor, lit so well it almost glowed with energy. A few feet in front of me was another door, just as pristine, every bit as beckoning. I opened it, though more tentatively than the first, for while I could surely pass off wandering through one wrong door as a mistake, opening the second seemed a more serious offense.

Behind the second white door was a third. Who were those men and where were they going? And what would I do when I found them? What kind of Alice-down-the-rabbit-hole adventure was I getting myself into? As I passed through the next door, I noticed a security camera above and a security desk to my left, and I felt my shoulders tense up. What were they trying to protect here? But there was not a soul in sight, so I kept going. By the time I reached the sixth door, I had accepted that I had no idea where the corridor was leading mebut I had the unmistakable sense that, as each door closed behind me, I was one step closer to what I was searching for.

As I pushed through the seventh door, I realized I had reached the end of the corridor and the beginning of my journey. The final door opened into a vast theatre. Rows of plush blue seats arced to my left. The ceiling soared a hundred feet above me, and I resisted the urge to call out and hear the sound of my voice echoing, if only to prove to myself that I wasnt dreaming.

To my right was the strangest stage Id ever encountered. I watched as a mysterious monolithic structure, maybe forty by eighty feet, moved left and right, forward and back, and finally stood straight up and down, as if defying gravity. I couldnt determine its purposesurely it wasnt part of the stage? Youd have to be Spiderman to scale such a precipice!

On the other side of the theatre, I could see the men whod unwittingly led me through the doors. They were tinkering with equipment on the revolving column, which was perched precariously behind a stage floor that opened into a seemingly bottomless abyss. Though they were a good twenty yards away, I could hear their voices; the acoustics of the theatre were that crisp. I could detect several distinct accents among the half-dozen people around the stageScottish, Russian, Texan, and French Canadian.

They were so focused on their work that no one seemed to notice I was there. My curiosity was aroused in a way it hadnt been since college, when every experience was a new adventure and I didnt have to worry about the consequences of my actions the way I did now; my mind seemed alive to the possibilities my surroundings presented. I sat down in one of the theatre seats, in the middle of everything, and took it all in.

The enormous theatre was less a stage than a cavernous aviary, framed by huge catwalks constructed of aged wooden planks and copper railing, an intriguing contrast to the ultramodern style of the MGM Grand Hotel. It possessed a timeless quality, as if Id stepped foot in an edifice that had been built long before Las Vegas existed.

I might have sat there for ten or twenty minutes, just watching and listening.

Eventually, someone noticed me: a friendly-looking woman who seemed to appear out of nowhereslender, middle-aged, with short, dark red hair and a stylish suede jacket. She made her way along a row of seats toward me. While I was no doubt somewhere I shouldnt be, she seemed more curious about my presence than upset.

Normally, I would have apologized profusely for trespassing, and jumped up to leave. But something held me back.

Hello, there, she said when she was only a couple of rows away.

Hello, I said with a small nod. I assumed I was going to get kicked out; I didnt see any point in attempting to fight it. But instead of asking me to leave, the woman offered her hand.

Im Diane, she said.

And Im Frank, I responded. She settled in a couple seats to my right, taking in the scene before us. Had she fallen into this alternative universe the same way I had?

Pretty breathtaking, isnt it? she asked, gesturing outward with her hand.

Ive never seen anything like it before, I said.

I like to think of it as a theatre of unfulfilled dreams and great expectations.

I didnt know quite how to respond to that. Its so quiet, despite its size.

Hmm, she agreed. It can be such a soothing, tranquil place during the day. But theres a latent electricity in the air, too, dont you think? Before the shows begin, I often feel a kinetic energy in the theatre, as if it were on the verge of exploding.