Cirque du Soleil brings sizzling 'Alegria' to Seattle

Watch out if you sit in the first row of the Cirque du Soleil production "Alegría," which opens a three-week run Thursday in Renton.

You might catch some heat.

"Alegría's" featured fire-knife dancer Karl Sanft says that when he first sets the ends of his batonlike knives ablaze, and launches into his solo pyrotechnical act, "I come pretty close to the front of the stage, and I notice people kind of sinking down in their seats."

But most of the Renton audience will likely be gazing in rapt wonderment at Sanft's incendiary spectacle, as he creates circular and twirling patterns of light and runs the blazing fire sticks across his skin without visible fear.

This demonstration of a kind of daredevil dancing derived from Pacific Island cultures is one of the showstopping acts in "Alegría," the third Cirque du Soleil extravaganza to visit the Seattle area since 2000.

Like "Saltimbanco" and "Dralion" (seen in Renton, respectively, in 2000 and 2002), "Alegría" also promises beaucoup acrobatic feats, world-music flourishes, ravishing production values — all the circus glitter the Quebec-based Cirque du Soleil has scattered like fairy dust in its numerous resident and touring editions.

Recession be dashed, the 20-year-old Cirque du Soleil continues to captivate the multitudes in North America, Europe and Japan.

The company has five shows on tour, and one installed at Disney World. It also recently unveiled a well-received new production, "Varekai" (which comes to Los Angeles in September). And in Las Vegas, in addition to the ongoing "Mystère" and "O" hotel shows, Cirque du Soleil tonight opens an adult-oriented new attraction, "Zumanity," at New York-New York Hotel.

For the Puget Sound audience, however, the troupe is still bringing in some of its older shows that haven't yet toured here.

"Alegría" (the title is the Spanish word for "elation, joy and jubilation") is a case in point. It first hit the road in 1994, and since then has played to an audience of more than 6 million spectators. Typically, for Cirque, the attraction has no actual story line, but there are recurring characters and creatures in fantastic garb — a flock of old birds, a hunchbacked guide to a secret world, a pack of nymphs and (but of course) several persistent clowns.

Though the dazzling lights, fantastical costumes and seductive music are major ingredients in Cirque du Soleil's smashingly successful formula, the skillful acts performed by circus artists from many nations form the spine of each show.

In the case of "Alegría," the featured bits include a strong-man routine, high-flying acrobats who land on bars balanced on others' shoulders, a contortionist, and trapeze and aerial artists.

But Sanft's fire dance generates some of the most excitement. In fact, when Sanft appeared with Cirque du Soleil in Singapore, he was startled to find his photograph splashed across city buses.

The 41-year-old performer doesn't expect such attention. But he is no stranger to fire-dancing: Sanft learned it from his father (who hails from the island of Tonga) and mother (a native of New Zealand). And he perfected his skill through sometimes painful trial and error during the past 28 years.

"My parents had a Polynesian show in San Diego, and I grew up performing with them from the time I was about 13," explains the strapping father of five, who has also plied his art at Disney World.

"When you first learn to do this, that's when you get the most burns. But the trick is to be moving constantly. If the fire sits too long in one place, you have a greater chance of getting burned. The key is constant motion."

Asked if he employs any fire retardants to ward off getting singed, Sanft says, "I don't wear any kind of protective stuff. Some people think I put some kind of gel on my skin, but I don't. And some think I use some kind of cold fire, but I don't. It's hot!"

Sanft's only concession to safety is to partially cover the blades of the 36-inch knives he uses with particle board, which he wires on and then soaks in flammable camping fluid. He emphasizes, "I do it myself for every show, so I know it's all on right and exactly how I like it."

One of numerous "Alegría" performers with families, Sanft tours with his kids and his wife, Ula (also a circus performer). The roaming sawdust-and-glitter life can take a toll, but Sanft is not quite ready to pack it in yet.

"I'd give it at least four more years," he declares. "I've heard this show is going to Japan, and that really interests me. And I'm still having fun. When this isn't fun anymore, then I'll think about doing something else."

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com