"Paix Reveuse" is the latest installment from Quixotic, and it's a toned-down, more musically-focused show compared to last year's "Lux Esalare" and 2008's "Esoterra." On the continuum of Quixotic's in-your-face, hard-rock ballet, a less punk, more classical move added a live singer and streamlined the production. Even with a considerably smaller cast of characters, a much smaller stage and a stark set, Quixotic still produces that unique magical feeling -- just on a more intimate level.
The Madrid Theater is a return to the first venue of performance in 2006. It holds an intimate 450 general admission seats and V.I.P. tables in front and on either side of the stage. Unlike the sterile Spencer Theater at UMKC, and the too-big-for-it's-britches (at least in the Quixotic sense) Uptown, the Madrid is a perfect setting for "Paix Reveuse" because of the show's intimate theme of love. The intricate table settings with lit candles created an atmosphere only found in the imaginations of fairies and garden gnomes.
A month ago, I was fortunate enough to attend Cirque Du Soleil's "Alegria" at The Sprint Center. After the performance, I was beaming with delight. I attended the show with a friend, who easily shattered my excitement post show by asking, "Well, it was good, but what would you rather see, this or Quixotic?"
That little bitch hit a nerve. My friend and I have had several conversations over the years about the absolute perfection of Quixotic shows. "Alegria" is performed as a straightforward and traditional big top circus. It shares similar dance, aerial fabric routines, and acrobatic stunts performed by the Quixotic crew, but it lacks the sophistication and musical brilliance of our local heroes.
I would urge each and every Kansas Citian to get up off their hot haunches this weekend and go to the very comfortably air-conditioned and beautifully decorated Madrid for a show they will not soon forget. This thrillingly visual mash-up of birds, human souls, and other Masters of The Universe meets the Neverending Story shenanigans -- paired with percussionist Brandon Draper's excellence in hitting things with sticks -- will make everything in your life okay. (For at least 90 minutes. I promise.)