For these aerialists, it's a chance to focus on the needs of others

A collective of Seattle aerialists — calling itself the Aerial Army of Love — will perform its high-flying best Wednesday to benefit children whose families subsist off the Guatemala City landfill. The performance, called AerLift III, part of Seattle's Moisture Festival, will highlight not just charity, but the vibrancy and diversity within the Seattle aerial community.

Lara Paxton, who has taught and performed the craft around town for several years, organized the team of aerial veterans and students from the Circus Contraption, the Aerialistas, the Cabiri, Little Red Studio, the School of Acrobatics and New Circus Arts (SANCA), and the Kirkland Dance Center.

The act will showcase aerial hoops, silks, rope and various forms of trapeze at the fifth annual Moisture Festival, which is happening through April 13 in Fremont and downtown Seattle.

The festival is a celebration of diverse performances, from aerialists to jugglers to comedians. AerLift III is trying to help Safe Passage (Camino Seguro) meet its goal of providing education and counseling for the children, who range in age from 2 to 19 and live in extreme poverty.

Paxton hopes for greater charity — and performing — venues in the future.

Performing can be a very narcissistic pursuit," Paxton says. "As aerialists, we spend a lot of time and energy focused on ourselves: our form, our costumes ... Events like AerLift give us an opportunity to channel some of that effort away from ourselves and towards people who need our energy and resources."

Three of the performers Wednesday are students who Paxton has been teaching for the past year or less. The three women practice in the Fremont space that Theo Chocolate rents cheaply to Circus Contraption, the nonprofit touring circus troupe that Paxton founded a decade ago.

As the show nears, she works with them to hone their moves, timing and showmanship they will need to blend into an act on a stationary three-seated perch known as the "triple trapeze."

Why trapeze?

They come from differing athletic backgrounds and to aerial work in different ways. Erin Specht, a former gymnast, became curious after watching Cirque du Soleil on television. Lynda Wong became hooked when she saw Paxton and another Seattle performer, Carri Andersen, perform at last year's Moisture Festival. They all agree it beats the gym and that learning proper technique goes a long way.

"I like the athleticism and showmanship of it," says Kate Hunter, whose background is in soccer and track and field. "I enjoy having a workout with tangible progressions, being able to do something I couldn't a month ago."

Jo Montgomery, who opened The School of Acrobatics and New Circus Arts in 2004 and has taught circus arts to toddlers and seniors, says people new to it are initially surprised by the upper body strength that's needed, but core strength is the key to supporting technique.

After Paxton finished working with them on a recent Saturday, she turned her attention toward the choreography of veteran performers who are part of another of her side troupes, called the Aerialistas. The women worked in pairs, sharing space inside hoops about 3 feet in diameter and hanging 8 feet from the ground.

Mind-body pursuit

One of them, Thea Railey, was a struggling singer and actress in New York when she was asked to sing at an aerial show. Instead of accepting pay, she did it in return for aerial classes. She got hooked and began learning from Paxton when she moved here in 2005. (Paxton was exposed to the art by Seattle's Tamara Dover, also known as "Tamara the Trapeze Lady," who still teaches).

"I guess I was a pretty quick learner," says Railey, an assistant stage manager for the Seattle Opera. "I'm not the most flexible person, but I'm pretty strong for my size. It's a great way to keep performing and stay in shape. And we all become best friends."

Cathy Sutherland, a veteran dancer who says she's 50 but looks a decade or two younger, is an aerialist, too. Why does she do it?

"I can't stand going to a gym and I love being up high," she says.

Paxton says support for the art — from cheap rent to more appearances in everything from operas to corporate events — helps refine talent and attract students. It also helps build cohesiveness within Seattle's aerial community.

"Most of us know each other, and we make an effort to stay in touch with what the others are doing," says Paxton. "One thing about AerLift that's important to me is providing a sort of yearly 'Aerial family reunion.' "

Beverly Sobelman, who operates Versatile Arts and performs as Beverly Rose, learned from Paxton and now teaches aerial classes. She sees it as a mind-body pursuit, like rock climbing, but with grace.

Sobelman maintains a listing of all aerial teachers that she knows of in the Seattle area at www.versatilearts.net/resources."I put the list together to foster cooperation, not competition among instructors," says Sobelman. "We all do things differently and emphasize different things. And there are plenty of students. I keep waiting for it to cool down but aerial remains super hot."

Richard Seven: 206-464-2241 or rseven@seattletimes.com