by Bruno Quintero

 

I just saw Jerome Thomas juggle. I must admit that this sight threw a veil of strange apprehension over my ordinarily reasonable mind. This type of juggling has been known to be something lethal to the overly sensitive.

 

During the first few minutes of the show, the spectators become slack­jawed. Their eyelids move away from each other as if eyeballs had decided to outgrow their sockets to get closer to the action. Then the spectators struggle to avoid losing their tongues and fight to keep control over their legs, which are in serious jeopardy of uncontrollable spasms.

 

There is, however, a solution: let go of all previous concepts of human potential, laws of gravity and all views of cosmic order. The best way to watch Jerome Thomas juggle is to toss the entire lot out. Then the only question remains, "Who is this guy?"

 

He juggles, he dances, he laughs and generally seems to handle his environment a little better than most humans.

 

Historically, Thomas was born in 1963. At age 15 he ran away from the family home in Angers to hitch up with traveling street acrobats. It was a good move in an otherwise grim-faced destiny. And so he discovered juggling. He quickly outshone his coaches and went in quest of the absolute at the Annie Fratellini Circus school. He studied there with a fierce determination, then became Francis Brunn's neophyte and basked in the light of Michael Moschen.

 

He was noticed at age 21 in a contest for "Le Cirque de Demain." Two years later he was raved upon at "Le Printemps de Bourges." He then toured with "Artrio" before sharing the stage with Jacques Higelin in December 1988, where he was lauded as a great in juggling.

 

And the light from this shooting star does not wane. It seems to have doubled in intensity and become a ray of hope for French artists and their destiny. No less than Francois Mitterand, president of France, expressed his admiration after a show recently.

 

Last September, Thomas decided to throw in with the common cause of European juggling at the convention in Maastricht. He parked his saucer by those of the organizers and began to vibrate in unison with the strange local rhythms. And then came Saturday night, the public show, and the scrutiny of 2,000 pairs of eyes...

And a new mark was engraved in the soft clay of contemporary juggling. The man is stunning, not only with his technique but also the very candid nature of his personality.

 

His skills cover the basic notions of spatial juggling. Dancing and juggling become parts of a whole. He makes love to his props and carves the space around them. With three balls, he's got fireworks. He yelps like a playful puppy, then bellows a cry of happiness barely contained in his chest.

 

His eyes shine as a child's in front of a Christmas tree and his body drips the sweat of total intensity. There is something childlike which makes you forget his incredible control and technical skill. The balls track the length of his body as if they had lives of their own.

 

The observing technician will attempt to spot known routines, but even the most classical ones are reshaped and personalized. They are the tie-ins for a greater whole. Three balls?! No, now there are seven and he's still dancing! Our eyes have seen a three-minute choreography where seven balls did their own dance in ever-changing patterns. A double shower with six balls with one more resting on his forehead, and still he gives a laughing wink to the audience. Straight throws, multiplexes and bounces combine for a smooth and harmonious display. And the ribbons to this fine package are improvisation and spontaneity, given freely by Thomas in doing his thing for the audience.

 

The end of the 20th century is fertile ground for the multiplication of "Homo Jugglicus." There have never, in the history of humankind, been so many jugglers (one more juggler, one less warrior!). The corollary to this is the implication of a need for even greater imagination and innovation to rise to the top of this growing tide.

 

Always showing us the way, Thomas -- that indominitable researcher -- is also hatching a newer, highest-quality show. It's "Extra Ball," and the object of the game is to confuse you just a bit more. A talking, floating, sailing ball which plays and defies the player. The show also brings to bear the most recent promises of modern technology as much as it does the knowledge of ancient magic. Watching "Extra Ball," reason becomes as redundant as a surfboard to a dead giraffe. Perhaps the reality is that he simply is not an ordinary earthling. "Extra Ball" is sure to provide the an­swer in the near future! .:.

 

(Bruno Quintero is a computer programmer and organizer of the group, "Institut Galactique de Jonglis­tique Appliquee," in Paris.)