The Soiled Dove is back in town.
The Soiled Dove, which began its run in 2017, is an immersive circus/burlesque dinner show set in a steampunk fantasy of San Francisco’s infamous Barbary Coast of the 1850s Gold Rush. This year’s version again features legendary ’60s folk icon, singer-songwriter, and activist Joan Baez; Sgt. Splendor, a power duo fronted by Kate Vargas and Eric McFadden; and Bay Area comedian Frank Ferrante.
Produced by the Vau de Vire Society and directed by Stefan Haves of Cirque du Soleil, who also wrote the storyline, the production reminded me of that line from Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus: “You think, as you walk away … and into the creeping dawn, that you felt more awake within the confines of the circus. You are no longer quite certain which side of the fence is the dream.”
That pretty well describes the experience. The humor, sets, costumes, and music float you through time, from comedian Frank Ferrante’s vaudeville-style jokes—“Well, aren’t you a little San Francisco Treat!” (ah, Rice-A-Roni commercials… hadn’t thought about those in a few decades)—to Joan Baez singing her haunting ’70s hit “Diamonds and Rust,” to the bawdy Victorian-inspired costumes.
Haves has spent much of his career creating this engaging mixture of circus and story. He directed Teatro ZinZanni in 2000 and 2006, where Baez and Ferrante also performed. He has directed circuses around the world and works as a designer for Cirque du Soleil, creating clown acts for its productions.
But telling a story through the circus presents a particular challenge. “When you do story in circus, you only have about the first five minutes,” Haves said. “Put the first person in the air, and you’re done.”
So his job is to establish just enough story to hold the evening together, then let the performers take over. Haves describes his role more colorfully: the producers give him the performers and other ingredients, and “I bake the cake.”
And this is quite a cake.
Even getting there feels like part of the show. As I drove out to Alameda Point—our former Naval Air Station, relic of World War II, now being fitfully redeveloped yet still feeling a bit like the Wild West with its vast open space and potholed roads—I thought of another line from The Night Circus: “The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.”
If you aren’t familiar with Alameda, you drive out there, half feeling as though you’re getting lost, when suddenly a gorgeous view of the Bay opens up with San Francisco floating on the horizon. And there, at the water’s edge, sits a giant red, 12,000-square-foot Italian circus tent known as the Tortona Big Top.
Then you enter, and there’s this whole little world. A crowd of jolly patrons—some dressed in steampunk-inspired attire—is gathered inside. For the next three hours there is surrealist and fine art, cocktails with names like the Barbary Sling, incredible jugglers and aerialists in their six-pack ab glory, who alternate between performing on stage and coming into the audience, flirting with patrons and serving a three-course meal of Firebrand bread and heirloom tomato salad, beef or mushroom bourguignon, and chocolate mousse dessert by the San Francisco-based green catering company, Work of Art.
The emotional center of the evening, though, was Baez. Sadly, and with some embarrassment, I confess that I wasn’t highly familiar with Joan Baez’s music. She was before my time, and I knew her mainly as a ’60s icon. But I got a little choked up when she first came out.
Eighty-five years old! And she was presented so beautifully and lovingly, with such obvious affection from her fellow performers—still singing wonderfully and introducing me to music I now want to know better. How lovely that afterward, she hung out and let people talk with her and take pictures.
For Haves, having Baez there is personal as well as theatrical. Their connection reaches back to that 2000 Teatro ZinZanni production. “This is kind of a reunion for all of us,” he said.
Haves noted that the choice of Alameda is connected to plans for the new Radium Theater Performing Arts Center at the Point. A production like The Soiled Dove helps “activate the space,” he said. And it appears to be working. The crowd had come from near and far. I met patrons from Oakland and Berkeley, and others who were visiting all the way from Hawaii and New York.
At the end of the evening, the circus sent me out in a daze, into the fresh night air and softly lit loveliness of the Seaplane Lagoon Promenade, and I thought, “Whew, that was something.”
It was quite a fun night. We are lucky to have something of this caliber in town. It feels like a big-city production, improbably materializing at the edge of an old naval base, beneath a red circus tent, with San Francisco shimmering across the water.
Alameda continues to come into its own.
Join the fun
The Soiled Dove is a 21+ show on Friday and Saturday evenings through November 15. It includes burlesque performances with scanty outfits but no full nudity. Tickets for the full three-hour production, including dinner and pre-show, start at $223.02 (including fees and taxes), while tickets for the Main Show only, including access to the art gallery, bar, and concessions, start at $74.13. More information and tickets are available on the Soiled Dove website.
Contributing writer Karin K. Jensen covers boards and commissions for the Alameda Post. Contact her via [email protected]. Her writing is collected at https://linktr.ee/karinkjensen and https://alamedapost.com/Karin-K-Jensen.
