Tucked beneath the leafy canopy of Chiswick House and Gardens, Giffords Circus unfurls Laguna Bay– a glittering, gloriously irreverent spectacle that manages to be at once nostalgic, effervescent, and utterly enchanting. Now in its 25th year, this much-loved British circus continues to enchant audiences with its signature blend of high-wire dazzle, clowning mischief, and a deeply rooted sense of familial warmth.
As the show begins, there is a gentleness to the opening: a lone deck chair, a bemused Tweedy the Clown (a Giffords stalwart of more than two decades), and the kind of understated British humour that instantly evokes endearment. It’s vaudeville in its most affectionate form – silly, yes, but laced with extraordinary skill and deep emotional resonance.
For young audiences – and indeed the young at heart – Laguna Bay is a visual and emotional feast. My daughters, aged six and eight, are immediately swept up in the magic. Their laughter rings out as Tweedy larks about; their gasps are audible as aerialists take flight and acrobats twist skyward. But beyond the spectacle lies something more profound: a palpable sense of passion and dedication that glows through every performance.
That sense of family is not simply thematic – it is literal. Many of the performers are lifelong circus artists, bound not just by blood but by a shared devotion to the craft. The show is also a loving tribute to Giffords’ visionary founder, Nell Gifford, whose spirit of creativity and inclusivity lingers in every spotlight moment.
The Ethio-Salem Troupe – resplendent in riotous technicolour – deliver one of the evening’s most exhilarating acts. They juggle skittles, then themselves, leaping, tumbling, and somersaulting through hoops and, eventually, flames. Despite the physical intensity, there’s a naturalness to their performance – as though joy, not effort, propels them skyward.
From the surreal to the sublime, Laguna Bay continually confounds expectation. The programme teases the Garcias’ "Sensation in the Sky" and a daring hair-hanging act by Daniela Muñoz Landestoy and Noémi Novákovics. I prepare my daughters for theatrical illusion – surely, no one is really flying from a plane or suspending themselves by their hair. And yet, as the show unfolds, disbelief is beautifully shattered. Vickki Garcia pirouettes mid-air from a handcrafted aircraft, spinning with jaw-dropping finesse, at one point gripping the plane with her teeth alone. And yes – the hair hangers truly hang by their hair.
Under the inspired direction of Cal McCrystal and fluid choreography of Kate Smyth, every element of Laguna Bay flows with cinematic ease. A soft 1950s Americana theme lends a bubblegum sheen to the aesthetic, with a dreamy live soundtrack that evokes diners, jukeboxes, and dusky summer nights.
Even at its most dazzling, the show never loses its playful edge. Randy Forgione Vega sails overhead with elegant bravado, while the Garcia brothers contort and clown in equal measure – decked in pyjamas, no less – eliciting delight from every corner of the tent.
And then, of course, there’s Tweedy. A linchpin of the Giffords universe, his comedic timing and impish charm thread through the show, tethering the wonder to a deeply British sensibility. One of the night’s most memorable moments features no acrobatics, no choreography – just oversized tubs of faux ice cream, an ocean of water, and Tweedy’s trademark chaos. It’s pure, unadulterated joy.
Laguna Bay is, at heart, a love letter – to the circus, to community, to imagination. It shimmers with sincerity and silliness in equal measure. For those who believe the golden age of circus is behind us, Giffords gently proves otherwise.
Giffords Circus: Laguna Bay is at Chiswick House and Gardens, London, until 22 June, before touring the UK until 28 September.
