Anyone with an addiction to beauty might consider getting a fix from the gang of horse-pushers on the waterfront. This gorgeous high comes courtesy of Odysseo, a follow-up spectacle to Cavalia, which twice before has pitched its enormous tent near AT&T Park. The new show successfully outdoes its predecessor in terms of equine and human derring-do, as well as sheer visual spectacle, with a Cinerama-style curved screen providing epic backdrops in a def so high that it's hard to know where the screen ends and the contoured earthen stage begins.
After some oohing and aahing as a single horse wanders onto the stage, soon to be followed by other seemingly unguided horses in one of the show's "Liberty" segments, the riders and handlers arrive to create scene after scene of stunning imagery. Then, at one point in the first act, seemingly bursting from the huge screen, a phalanx of horses with riders in Cossack-style costumes comes descending down the hill (the company travels with 10,000 tons of its own dirt) that abuts the big screen upstage. This is the first of the numerous big-gasp moments that will follow.
A full-sized carousel may descend from the rafters, horses can arrive on stage at full gallop thanks to unseen runways on either side of the stage, riders in white silks arise like angels from the backs of horses into the air, and a lake forms on what had been the performing grounds through which the horses now exuberantly splash. What's perhaps most magical is the seeming complicity of the horses in performing in alliance with each other and their human counterparts, who may or may not be directly at the reins.
When a wayward horse in a riderless routine decided to leave the formation with some defiant shakes of his head, all eyes were of course on him rather than his behaving brethren. One of the performers quietly listened to his complaints, and after a few soft words, the horse agreed to rejoin the performance. This, of course, is from the human point of view, the notion of that bond between species that we can only hope is true. Press material for Odysseo promises a pampered offstage life for the horses, including free-range recreation and massages, and training methods "designed to ensure that the horses enjoy training and performing."
There are 65 horses, all male, in the company, and the program provides a name, breed, age, nationality, and specialty for each. Some are known by such basic names as Bud, Chief, Rocky, and Gus, but my favorites include Embaixador, Nezma, Furioso, and E-Vogue. On any given night, not all of the 65 will perform, with the moods of the horses taken into account before show time. Those who are performing get occasional breathers as acrobats take to the stage to showcase their distinct talents.
A troupe from Guinea in Africa specializes in backflips at ridiculous speeds, there are aerialists on furiously spinning hoops, and performers in spring-loaded appendages known as urban stilts that let them jump over the same hurdles as the horses. Many of the performers, unfortunately, tend to solicit applause, which puts a small damper on what would be forthcoming anyway, though perhaps diminishing as the same maneuvers are often repeated in what can begin to feel like filler.
A live band and a female singer perform new-age songs in a language sounding something like Esperanto by Enya. It's in the Cirque du Soleil tradition, and there are other parallels to that institution since Cavalia's founder and artistic director Normand Latourelle was a co-creator of Cirque du Soleil. But the Cavalia shows are less avant-gauzy than those from Cirque and don't even pretend to have a story that is usually impossible to decipher at any rate.
Ironically, perhaps, the most crowd-pleasing moments are those with the stunt patina of a Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, as saddled riders maneuver themselves over, under, and around the horses as they gallop across the stage. But unlike Buffalo Bill's show, which recreated the slaughter of Custer's Last Stand, Odysseo draws the audience into chanting "O walu guere moufan" before revealing that the indigenous Guinean words mean "No more war on Earth." From the horses' lips to God's ears.
Odysseo will run under the big top near AT&T Park through Jan. 10. Tickets are $44.50-$289.50. Call (866) 999-8111or go to www.cavalia.net.