After 1,000 shows, an intimate circus captures the hearts of San Francisco

Springing up and down on a teeter-totter, two performers look like they’re about to vault each other right into the ceiling. A juggler manages to keep five balls aloft — then six, then seven. Meanwhile, not one but teams of acrobats slide down a pair of 30-foot poles together and stick the landing on their outstretched palms. 

Surely, the enraptured audience thinks, someone’s going to get hurt. Yet the performers bounce to their feet again and again, over eight grueling shows a week.

This is “Dear San Francisco,” a ferociously paced, 90-minute explosion of acrobatics, hoop diving, and assorted derring-do that has delighted (and terrified) audiences at North Beach’s Club Fugazi since its 2021 debut. Frenzied yet precise, this is an only-in-SF phenomenon: Unlike Ringling Bros., there are no trained animals. Unlike Cirque du Soleil, there are no elaborate costumes. There are only 10 performers risking life and limb on a compact stage in North Beach. And having just surpassed the 1,000-show mark, it’s shown no sign of letting up, escaping the long shadow of its predecessor, “Beach Blanket Babylon,” which ran for 45 years.

At a recent rehearsal, five members of the cast — some veterans, others practically brand new — offered reflections on that milestone and the physical demands the work takes on even the most athletic bodies. 

Aerialist and pole climber

Dominic Cruz has been with “Dear San Francisco” for approximately 900 performances, making him an elder — by circus standards, anyway — at age 31. 

A stationary circus enjoying such a long run at one venue is “unheard of in America,” the East Bay native said. In fact, he believes this show could only happen here. “San Francisco created the template: a way of portraying circus in a different way,” Cruz said, referring to its emphasis on physical proximity and the blurred boundary between performer and audience. 

Cruz adores the intimacy of the show. “I might be doing high-level circus three feet away from you,” he added, “but there’s no separation between you and me.” 

Chinese pole, straps

Ben Huey is among the newest members of the cast, having joined about six weeks ago. He arrived from Cincinnati “woefully ignorant” about the 1906 earthquake and other elements of city history the show references. But he was well aware of the city’s rich circus culture. “Internationally, a whole generation of circus artists came out of San Francisco, like Cirque du Soleil — especially in the early days,” he said. 

With a background in musical theater, Huey plays guitar and banjo and calls himself a generalist. If he could go away for a month and come back as an expert in any one skill, what would it be? “Right now, my sights are set on duo straps with my girlfriend, so we’re diving into that.” 

A hair-hanger, contortionist, and “foot archer,” Huey’s girlfriend has performed on cruise ships and at New York’s famed House of Yes. As Huey put it, she’s not a member of the “Dear San Francisco” cast, “but I’m trying to get her to be.” 

Hoop diver

Maya Kesselman Cruz, like her husband, has performed in 900 shows. A native of the city who began training at the San Francisco Circus Center at age 10, she describes her style of performance as “meditative magic.”

Working with rotating colleagues intensifies the magic, she said. “Your bond just solidifies, and you can become best friends after one show.” 

Married couples are common in circus life, Kesselman Cruz said. Often, they work in different disciplines, which she refers to as a “long-distance” relationship. Not in her case, though. “Dom and I do pole, hoop diving, and partner acrobatics. The trust is there. It fits.” 

Straps

Being from Brighton, England, aerialist Zoe Schubert had no idea that locals call San Francisco’s fog “Karl.” She collided head-on with this gap in her knowledge as a new cast member during the segment in which attendees write love letters to the city. Schubert found herself reading aloud a postcard affectionately addressed to its most famous meteorological phenomenon. She assumed it was to someone in the audience at Club Fugazi.

“I was like, ‘Wow, Karl, this is such a nice letter! Where are you?’” the aerialist recalled. “And this guy put his hand up, like, ‘I’m not Karl, but I wrote the letter.’ Everyone was laughing. I didn’t get it.”

Aerialist

A true multidisciplinarian, Ellie Rossi has trained as an acrobat, aerialist, and hand balancer since age 9, studying in Montreal and performing in Paris. She has performed in 300 to 400 “Dear San Francisco” shows.

Club Fugazi’s stage is very small, which exacerbates the danger. “There’s like nine of us doing flips at the same time,” she said. “It’s tiny! But it’s cool, because there are times when I get close enough to look in the audience members’ eyes.”

While growing up in Oakland, she made a point to see every touring circus that came to the Bay Area. All the while, she longed for a circus that would stay in the city full time. If there had been a show like “Dear San Francisco” when she was a kid, she said, “I could have gotten to see what I wanted to do when I was older.”