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University of Bradford
Artistic director Becky Truman is presently a part-time lecturer teaching life-casting, sculpting and mould-making on the animatronics degree at Bradford University.

Skinning the Cat Rigging
Becky Truman has designed the perfect cotton rope for aerialists, which had previously become extinct following the closure of the last cotton rope making factory in Europe. Skinning the Cat Rigging provides this rope tailor-made into aerial equipment.

Artistic director Becky Truman was awarded a Nesta Fellowship from 2006-2009

‘My Nesta Fellowship involves a 3 year project during which I will be:

• Writing a book

• Making a documentary film

• Creating a installation/exhibition/performance

The subject of all of these outcomes is my history as a trapeze artist with Skinning the Cat and the journey that it took me to the present day .

I wrote the following piece as the basis for my project:

GROUND BOUND

A few years ago I visited Sarasota in Florida ; it is the winter quarters for the Ringling Brothers three ring circus. It is here that they have the circus hall of fame, the Hollywood of the circus world, packed with serious circus aristocracy.

What I happened upon by chance as I went about my business there was a whole community of retired, through both age and injury, circus performers. They all still live their life through the circus; there was a community centre where they regularly met for meals, their homes packed with circus memorabilia, their lives revolving around circus meetings.

There were two who took my attention mainly, aerialists of course. Dolly Jacobs, daughter of the circus legend Loo Jacobs, who was just a few years older than me; they called her ‘Queen of the air', famous for her Roman rings act where she ended by flipping from the rings to the rope (very dangerous). She had been forced to stop through injury and now was full time carer for her ailing mother. The other, stage name ‘La Norma', was very old and wizened and when I visited her home I discovered she was obviously very poor, eking out a living making small figurines of famous circus personalities, whilst also caring for her invalid son.

This is not the first time that I have met retired circus people, but it is only now that through age and injuries myself that I am experiencing the emotional and physical pain of retiring as an aerial performer, that I have thought more about these stories .

At that time I was so awe-struck and fascinated to meet such legends that I didn't give so much thought to how it felt to them to give up their passion, and find new dreams. There is undoubtedly an element of relief in stopping something which can be life-threatening and hard on the body. But my own experience is that it is harder on the body after stopping than at the time. I have found myself debilitated through the loss of the traction that the trapeze has addicted me to, so that I now have a low trapeze hung in my kitchen which I hang on in several different positions every day. This keeps the pain manageable, but I wonder if, when I'm 70, I will still be doing that? I noticed that ‘La Norma' had a trapeze in her garden; does she sneak out and hang upside down when no-one is watching?

The other battle for me has been an emotional one, and leads me to ask many questions:

• how do I make the transition from aerial goddess, with all the adrenaline of regular performances to ... well, whatever it is that I am now?

• how does Dolly Jacobs feel at my age, caring for her sick mother? Many people in the circus become clowns, popcorn sellers and assistants to other acts.

• how does my change of status affect my relationships with other people? Both personal and professionally, will my confidence and self image find a new footing on which to base itself?

Ever since I started trapeze 20 years ago, the question has been asked, ‘how long can you do this for?'. As a physical performer you think that you are mentally preparing yourself for this change. I would think that in reality you cross your fingers and just hope to keep going.

It is a bit of a taboo subject, this afterlife, You will spend the rest of your life speaking about those golden years, people will always want to know, ‘what was it like?'. Nobody will ask, ‘how is your life now?'.

I think that once you have truly been an aerialist, mentally you will never cease to be one. It is just that now you are trapped inside your own head, an intellectual aerialist rather than a practicing one.'