At the Wonderland circus, it's a Wallenda-ful life

This is the third year superstar aerialist Nik Wallenda has brought his Wonderland circus to University Town Center, but it’s the first time that it’s been truly his own.

Wallenda’s got a brand new tent with plush, roomy seating and a Jumbotron inside. He’s got a new sponsor — LECOM — and without the nonprofit Circus Arts Conservatory as a partner, he’s free to make Wonderland a Wallenda-centric extravaganza. And that he has.

Sharing the high wire with Wallenda is his wife, Erendira, and his sister, Lijana, who was badly injured in 2017 while the troupe was rehearsing at the same site in UTC where "Wonderland: Believe" runs until Jan. 4.

While Wonderland has plenty of feel-good moments with the help of master of ceremonies Ty McFarlan, who plays a jovial Santa Claus, and punk-style clown Johnny Rockett, Lijana steals the show.

This holiday season marks the first time Lijana has performed in Sarasota since she fell and broke nearly every bone in her face. On Nov. 8, she and her brother broke a world record for the highest and longest criss-cross walk at UTC.

To many, the obvious question is: Why would anybody do this? Nik Wallenda always answers this question by quoting his great-grandfather, Karl Wallenda: “Life is on the wire. The rest is just waiting.”

The leader of the Flying Wallendas circus troupe that came to Sarasota in the 1920s to star in John Ringling’s circus, Karl Wallenda died in an high-wire accident in 1978 in Puerto Rico.

When you look at all the death-defying stunts Nik has performed during his career, crossing Times Square, Niagara Falls, the Grand Canyon and even an active volcano in Nicaragua, you start to understand the meaning of the old theater expression, “The show must go on.”

The show continues at UTC in a blue-and-white stripe tent with a black interior that features circus stars from all over the world. Wallenda says he and Erendira ordered the tent from Cannobio Textile and Architecture of Italy about 20 months ago. “It’s like the Ferrari of tents,” he says.

Photo by Tom Bender

With its video screen surrounded by a proscenium, the Wonderland tent evokes a theater, which is by design. Wallenda says his new tent is about the same size as the one he borrowed from the Circus Arts Conservatory to stage Wonderland during its first two years.

But rather than seating more than 1,600 patrons, the capacity of the CAC tent (also relatively new), Wallenda’s pavilion has just 1,300 seats. “We wanted our guests to have more room. We’ve added six inches in front of every seat so you can walk past someone without hitting their knees,” he says.

Always speaking of himself and Erendira as a team, Nik continues, “My wife and I feel it’s all about the guest experience. Even though it hits our bottom line because we can’t seat as many people in here, it’s well worth it. We know if people have an incredible time, they’ll come back year after year with their families.”

Learning from network TV

From his years working with networks on live TV specials, Wallenda understands the importance of video images and good production value, showbiz lingo for “quality.”

Videos featuring animated images of Johnny and Ty serve as clever introductions to their onstage segments and underscore the overriding theme of Wonderland: What is broken can be repaired, or in the case of human beings, healed.

As the first act in Wonderland, Chinese juggler Kai Cao gets the ball rolling, so to speak, with his juggling virtuosity. By keeping an astounding number of balls in the air (Was it really eight?), Cao sets the bar high for the rest of the show.

Roller skates play a pivotal role in Wonderland, as Ty presents Johnny with a pair for Christmas that had been thrown away but are now good as new. Later, skaters Roger Segura-Calderon and Emilie Sandberg demonstrate feats of derring-do on wheels.

The Hula Hoops of boomer childhoods are put on dazzling display by Australia’s Lianna Ashton Hay, while Sebastian Videla charms the audience with tricks on unicycles of all sizes.

Alan Silva, a “little person,” performs on the silks with such passionate artistry that one imagines him as a ballet dancer in the skies. Olesia Kucherenko, an 8-year-old Ukrainian, plays a music-box ballet dancer who seemingly comes to life. She demonstrates a mind-boggling degree of flexibility.

Throughout it all, Johnny and Ty provide the glue that holds Wonderland together — the clown with his childish lies and pranks, gently chided by a wise adult in the guise of an off-duty Santa.

Animals have been a sensitive issue in the history of the circus, with public taste turning against their exploitation and the circus as a whole, as well as incidents of lion tamers being mauled by their big cats. The performing pooches in Wonderland presented by Hans Klose and Colleen Pages prove dogs are willing to do nearly anything for a treat.

Lest Wonderland be accused of not having animals’ best interests at heart, there is a booth in the lobby for Nate’s Honor Animal Rescue Center, one of the Wallendas’ favorite charities.

If Hollywood was asking for an “elevator pitch” on this Wallenda circus, we’d say: It’s Ringling Bros. meets Tony Robbins meets tent revival. But unlike self-help guru Robbins, Nik Wallenda doesn’t encourage you to try his tricks at home.

But his new circus does encourage the audience to participate by taking videos and sending them out on social media with the hashtag #wonderland. The exception is when the family performs a dangerous stunt at the end of the show.

Photo by Tom Bender

Joining the Wallendas in their high-wire act is Sarasota’s own Anna Buchmeier, a senior at Sarasota High School making her second appearance at Wonderland. Buchmeier has been training at the Sailor Circus Academy run by the Circus Arts Conservatory since she was 10. She has developed her acrobatic skills under the tutelage of her coaches Dolly Jacobs and Olga Coronas.

Before Lijana Wallenda mounts a chair astride a shoulder bar carried by her brother and troupe member Paul Matthew Lopez, Nik asks the audience to turn off their devices and to keep quiet. He explains that he and his family members need to be able to hear each other while they communicate during a feat similar to one that ended in disaster.

Nik introduces the act by showing a black-and-white video of the human pyramid’s collapse in 2017 and playing audio of the 911 calls. The audience is warned in advance that the material may be upsetting to some, but the video is grainy so the imagery isn’t graphic. Still, one can't help feeling like a bit of a voyeur or a rubbernecker at an accident.

As family patriarch, Nik recounts his battle to overcome fear and guilt in the wake of the 2017 accident.

Lijana tells her own story, explaining that it is only through God’s grace — and the efforts of many medical professionals — that she has been able to return to her chosen profession. 

Like the aerialist that he is, Wallenda walks a fine line between sensational showman and motivational coach as he uses his family’s 350-year legacy to inspire others to overcome their obstacles.

The message? Just as anyone can fall, anyone can get back up on the metaphorical wire. 

Indeed, before leaving the Wonderland tent, the audience is asked to take a pledge with Nik: “I am not broken — I am rebuilt. I am not forgotten — I am loved. I am strong. I have purpose. My story isn’t over.”

Long live the Wallendas!