Power tools and circus skills: what could go wrong? Even for those of us old enough to remember when French circus Archaos juggled chainsaws at the Fringe in the 90s (ah, those pre-health and safety days), at first glance DIY and acrobatics don’t seem the likeliest of bedfellows. But for the trio of Michael Zandl, David Eisele and Kolja Huneck, the similarities began to reveal themselves while they were still training together at circus school. 

‘We were working a lot on our own scenography and props,’ says Huneck over Zoom from Germany, where two thirds of the troupe are based (Zandl lives in Austria). ‘We built our own gadgets and special effects. And then it was Michael Zandl who said that it was such an interesting topic: to have a vision, then draw something, going to a DIY shop, making a prototype, being frustrated, you miss one screw and you have to start again: this kind of process.’ The parallels with learning a new circus skill suddenly became plain. 

Huneck is clear they are all circus artists first, woodworkers and set-builders second. None of the three learned to juggle hammers at circus school. But gradually as they worked on both their set-making skills and exploring the mysteries of woodwork, they began to get a feel for how they could blend circus with the different techniques they were using in the workshop. The result was, as Huneck puts it, like creating their own ‘vocabulary’.

Sawdust Symphony, part of this year’s Made In Germany Fringe showcase, is a wordless performance, weaving together three different storylines, all rooted in woodwork with a healthy dose of Germanic absurdity. ‘My character gets quite obsessed with the feeling and the smell and the touch of things,’ says Huneck. ‘I think everybody knows this feeling, when you have sawdust and you like the smell but still it’s itchy, and you throw it away, but actually it’s too sad not to play with it.’ He wanted to explore the relatable side of DIY, from its textures to its frustrations. ‘I think everybody has had a hammer and a nail in their hands before.’

The piece does have its practical challenges. As a show that features live wood-lathing, abundant wood glue and a snowstorm of sawdust, there have been various logistics to consider, such as sourcing the wood (they gather it from fallen branches where possible). The sawdust is recycled for each show and has to be thoroughly treated to be fire retardant. Usually they sell the pieces they make during the show afterwards, but because of the Fringe’s tight turnarounds, having a merch table was out of the question (they are currently investigating ways to sell them via social media).

Another consideration was the soundtrack, which had to integrate with the sounds of tools and lathing. The company used two separate composers to create three different ‘sound universes’; one per character, ranging from acoustic guitar to ASMR-style sounds (‘kind of highlighting the crispiness of sawdust and the glue’s sliminess,’ says Huneck), to recordings of power drills and nails. 

‘A lot of the reactions we get are that people don’t know how to put the show in a box, or how to describe it,’ Huneck says. ‘It’s a mix of circus, physical theatre and dance that they’ve never seen before, also working with special effects and magic.’ He clarifies that when he says ‘magic’ he doesn’t mean tricks so much as unexplained happenings woven into the piece. In a show where objects materialise from branches live onstage, and power tools become music, it seems anything could happen.

Sawdust Symphony, Zoo Southside, 13–25 August, 10am.