Odyssey: Animal Angles

ANIMAL ANGLES

by Ruth Tenzer Feldman

This circus fits in the palm of your hand.

 

The performers are fleas. Yes, fleas!

 

Flea circuses were popular in Europe and the United States in the 1800s. There are still some left. One is Adam Gertsacov's Acme Miniature Circus, where fleas run a chariot race and balance a chair and pole. These tiny performers (about 0.1 to 1.0 centimeter long) can pull an object 130,000 times their weight and can leap horizontal or vertical distances 150 to 200 times their length at an acceleration 50 times faster than the Space Shuttle.

 

Circus fleas compress and release resilin, a super-elastic protein, in their leg and thorax muscles. In nature, this action catapults them upward, allowing bristles and hooks all over their bodies to snag a luckless animal host. In flea circuses, performers instinctively jump toward heat and carbon dioxide, and away from light.

 

It's easy to catch flea circus performers. There are hundreds of flea species, and they live everywhere, feeding on the blood of mammals and birds.

 

Fleas belong to the order Siphonaptera, meaning “wingless siphons.” Their mouths include barbs for piercing skin and hanging on tight. Ouch!

 

Gertsacov's circus performers are the human fleas Pulex irritans, meaning “irritating dust.” Some fleas are more than irritating. The rat flea Xenopsylla cheopis is an efficient carrier of bubonic plague, known during the Middle Ages as the Black Death. As plague-infected rats die, their fleas, which drink diseased rat blood, transmit the disease to humans. Plague is still around, but can now be cured.

Some flea species are not meant for the circus, as they don't jump. But jumpers or not, fleas were handy subjects for Anton van Leeuwenhoek in the 1600s. His microscope became known as the “flea glass.” What an entertaining fact!

PHOTO (COLOR): Nano-entertainment! A female cat flea (Clenocephalides felis) tows a miniature 19th-century cart along a human finger at a circus in Munich.

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By Ruth Tenzer Feldman

Connect Savannah: A Visit To An Old Fashioned-Flea Circus

"A Visit To An Old-Fashioned Flea Circus"

by Linda Sickler
There's no doubt that Adam Gertsacov has one of the most unusual jobs in the world.
He performs as Professor A.G. Gertsacov, the ringmaster of the Acme Miniature Circus. His stars are Midge and Madge, trained fleas extraordinaire.
The show opens with a miniature chariot race, which covers an eight-inch course. Next comes the high-wire act, in which Madge -- at least we think it's Madge -- balances a pole and a miniature chair.
In the finale, Madge and Midge are shot out of an air cannon, through a flaming hoop of death. They land safely to thunderous applause.
The one question Gertsacov is always asked is, are Madge and Midge real? "They are real fleas," he said.
"They are not glued down. I only use two fleas in the show. They do three tricks. My focus is not on tricks, but on the audience experience. My show is really funny."
Gertsacov is a professional actor, director, and clown, based in Providence, RI. After founding the Acme Clown Company, he has appeared at theaters, fairs and festivals around the world.
What kind of a person runs a flea circus? After graduating from the University of Pennsylvania (Class of '86) with a major in theoretical communication and a minor in theater, Gertsacov earned a master-of-arts degree in theater and group communication at the Rhode Island College/Trinity Rep Conservatory.
After completing Bryant College's entrepreneurship program, Gertsacov applied to the Ringling Brothers Clown College in 1989, not realizing how competitive it was. "There were 2,000 applicants for 54 spaces," he said.
Despite the odds, Gertsacov was accepted and made a profound discovery. "I realized all the acting work I had done was about being a clown," he said.
Gertsacov also has studied at the Dell'Arte School of Physical Theatre, and the Boston School of Bartending. He served as an apprentice to the Czech clown, Ctibor Turba, and also studied with several other well-known performers, including Dario Po and Avner the Eccentric
There are other acts that Gertsacov presents, but it is the flea circus that gets the most attention. "I started doing the show using imaginary fleas," he said. "It was all mime. I was pretty happy with it."
It was Avner the Eccentric who convinced Gertsacov that he should use real fleas. "He said, 'This is good, but you've got to get rid of the clown stuff and do a flea circus,' " Gertsacov said.
"You're big, the fleas are small," Avner said. "That's your act."
Gertsacov began doing intensive research to try to crack the secretive code of the flea circus. "I met a guy from Rhode Island who had a flea circus in the 1950s," he said. "He wasn't real forthcoming about how it was done, but he convinced me it could be done. I put together a grant proposal to build the program."
With the grant funding, Gertsacov was able to hire Dennis Hlynsky, an artist and professor at the Rhode Island School of Design, to design and build the suitcase that houses the marvelously detailed flea circus and its props. Everything, including Gertsacov's costume with top hat and purple vest, is designed to suggest the Victorian era, when flea circuses flourished.
"The history of the flea circus is kind of murky," Gertsacov said. "It is a low form of entertainment. The first reference to a flea circus I can find is 1828, when Senor Bertoletto performed in Covent Garden in London.
"Among other things, he redid Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo, using fleas. It was all the rage in London in 1828."
Flea circuses reached the peak of their popularity in the 1890s, Gertsacov said. "I have read that most every town had its own flea circus," he said.
"Professor LeRoy Heckler's was the most famous," Gertsacov said. "He appeared at the 1903 Chicago Exposition, then moved to New York. He left Times Square in 1957, saying that nude girls had given his fleas a bad name."
 
ORIGIN OF TERM 'FLEA MARKET'
At least one other aspect of the old-time flea circus still exists today. Flea circuses were often booked as sideshows at markets and fairs where merchants sold their goods outdoors, which gave rise to the term "flea market."
"In the last few years, there has been a resurgence of flea circuses," Gertsacov said. "There are at least three to four people doing flea circuses today."
Yes, the fleas are trained to do their tricks. Gertsacov's training methods are a trade secret, but he will say that the tricks are based on basic flea behavior, and taught through positive reinforcement.
"I'm not training them to do mathematics," he said. "They do chariot races. Do they know they are racing? It's hard to say."
It takes three months to train a flea. "It took me six months to figure out how to train them," Gertsacov said.
Madge and Midge are "Pulex irritans," better known as the human flea. "There are over 2,000 species," Gertsacov said. "Human fleas are the traditional circus fleas."
Human fleas make the best performers because they are larger than other species. Today, human fleas are rather rare, but at one time, they were all too common.
"About 100 years ago, everyone had fleas," Gertsacov said. "Very ritzy ladies wore a flea trap in their bosom. It was a piece of jewelry that was baited with blood and honey. The blood lured the fleas, who got trapped in the honey.
"Today, we don't have fleas so much," he said. "We wash, do laundry and wash our bedding."
The most common flea found today is the cat flea, which is found on both cats and dogs. Not only is it too small to be trained, it lives only six weeks.
By contrast, the human flea lives much longer. "It lives 24 months, only on humans or pigs," Gertsacov said.
Fleas survive on blood, and Purina doesn't make flea chow, so Gertsacov has developed a unique feeding method. "I feed them once every 15 days," he said. "I prick my finger. It takes only a drop. Fortunately, I don't have to put them on myself to feed. I have a system with a Petrie dish."
Since the flea circus began, Gertsacov has never had a flea escape. Perhaps that's because they are housed in a luxurious, custom-designed, fur-lined trailer between shows.
"I buy fleas from an entomological supply company that supplies fleas to scientists," Gertsacov said. (The going rate is $5 per dozen.)
Incorporating art and theater, Gertsacov started his company in 1991. He creates and performs his own shows, tours and teaches clowning at workshops.
"I would say it's a hard job because it's a business, like any other," Gertsacov said. "But at least part of the time, I get to do what I love."
What he loves is creating an unforgettable experience for his audiences. "My other shows include the Puppet Tragedies," Gertsacov said. "I do 'Oedipus Rex' in 12 minutes, using Barbie dolls. I also do the 'Vegetable Macbeth.' "
Gertsacov also is an author, and currently is writing a book about, of all things, Rhode Island. "I was recently appointed the Clown Laureate of Greenbelt, Md.," he said.
In addition to watching the fleas' performance, spectators can buy souvenirs, including buttons, T-shirts and bumper stickers. The most popular reads, "Save the flea!"
Not that the flea is in any danger of becoming extinct. But Gertsacov believes that in addition to entertaining the masses, his circus proves that fleas can be put to good use.
"There is no Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Fleas," he said. "This shows a positive use for fleas. It is so amazing what they can do."
 
Linda Sickler is senior staff writer at Connect Savannah.

Current Science: Circus Minimus

CIRCUS MINIMUS
There are no small parts, only small performers, in the Acme Miniature Circus.
by Hugh Westrop

First there was Barnum & Bailey. Then came Siegfried & Roy. Now make way for Midge and Madge!
Midge and Madge are the featured players in the Acme Miniature Circus. They're fleas, wingless insects no bigger than a freckle. Their traveling act is one of the weirdest and wackiest in show business.
UNDER THE SMALL TOP
Midge and Madge were flicked to stardom by Adam Gertsacov, the circus's owner. In the guise of Professor A.G. Gertsacov, he also presides as ringmaster over each of Midge and Madge's shows.
The professor opens each performance by hawking a line of flea souvenirs- flea buttons, flea tattoos, flea T-shirts. Then he recites such flea doggerel as "Fleas? Adam had 'em," followed by flea fun facts. "Did you know," he asks the audience, "that fleas are the world's champion jumpers? If a flea were the size of a woman, it could jump over the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt in a single bound."
Then gasps of wonder arise from the spectators as the professor exposes the contents of a large suitcase. Inside lies a beautifully detailed miniature circus ring-- and Midge and Madge.
Guiding the two fleas to the ring, the Great Gertsacov assists them in a series of jaw-dropping stunts. Like horses at the ancient Roman Circus Maximus, the fleas are hitched to tiny chariots and compete in a race-- a real nailbiter. The audience hoots and applauds.
Next comes the tightrope act. Madge carries a tiny chair and pole across the high wire. The audience oohs and aahs. For the grand finale, Midge and Madge are lowered into a miniature air cannon. 3....2....1.... Pop! A puff of air shoots the fleas over the ring, through a flaming hoop, and into their sumptuous, fur-lined trailer. Loud hurrahs!
OLD SHOW
Similar spectacles were common 200 years ago, when flea circuses entertained the hoi polloi of Europe and North America. Pulex Irritans, the species of flea that infests humans, was common back then too. "People didn't bathe often," explained Gertsacov, "so they were crawling with fleas."
That changed during the last century with the advent of improved personal hygiene and inventions such as the vacuum cleaner and the washing machine. Pulex irritans became, if not endangered, then much rarer. Today, the most common of the 2000 known species of fleas is Ctenocephalides felis, which infests cats and dogs, said Gertsacov.
Midge and Madge are Pulex irritans, ordered from an entomological supply company. "It took about three years of experimentation to figure out how to train a flea," said Gertsacov
TRAINING TIPS
How does one train a flea? Gertsacov said he employed the same techniques all animal trainers use. First, he studied the flea's natural behaviors. Then, through operant conditioning, he encouraged the fleas to perform those behaviors on cue with circus props. Operant conditioning is a form of instruction in which the subject is encouraged through the use of positive reinforcement-- rewards-- and negative reinforcement--punishments. (Gertsacov says he doesn't use negative reinforcement.)
"It's not as if I train the fleas to sing or fly the space shuttle-- things they aren't equipped to do," explained Gertsacov. "They perform things in their act, such as lifting objects, that they do in nature."
Gertsacov won't reveal what reward he gives his fleas, but an educated guess is blood. Fleas are hematophagous -- they feed on blood. A flea that can't find a warm-blooded host becomes dormant (inactive and can stay that way for up to a year.
In the early days, Gertsacov let Midge and Madge bite him for their meals. Now he pricks himself for the blood that he feeds them.
When not in training, Gertsacov's fleas enjoy the lifestyles of pampered celebrities. Fleas are ectoparasites. A parasite is an organism that lives at the expense of another organism. An ectoparasite is a parasite that lives on, as opposed to in, the host organism. But fleas also spend time off their hosts-- in carpets, beds, sofas, and in Midge and Madge's case, fur-lined trailers.
DISEASE CARRIERS
The Acme Miniature Circus is a true slice of showbiz magic. Where else do audiences root for such creepy characters? Fleas can transmit bubonic plague ("Black Death"), one of history's worst medical scourges. Just last summer, a flea-borne outbreak of bubonic plague turned several prairie dog towns in Montana into ghost towns.
Needless to say, spectators feel more than enthusiasm at an Acme show. Gertsacov ensures that Midge and Madge don't get loose during a performance. Still, people are suggestible around fleas and other wee beasties. "When I look out at my audience," said Gertsacov," I see a lot of scratching."
 

L.A. Times: Under The Small Top

Under the Small Top
Bitten by the show-biz bug, Adam Gertsacov's Acme Miniature Circus stars are fleas that perform amazing feats. Just don't ask how he gets them to balance on the high wire.

Page 2 / News, Trends, Gossip and Stuff to Do
January 28, 2000|DENNIS ARP, SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

On those magical nights when everything clicks, Adam Gertsacov can hold both an audience and his star performers in the palm of his hand. People crane their necks for a better view of the Acme Miniature Circus' curious wonders. They thrill to the exciting flea chariot race and marvel at the flea-on-a-wire aerial act.

They gasp at the death-defying finale (which, by the way, took a few deaths to perfect, but why quibble?).


Suddenly, Gertsacov said, "people start caring for these two bugs they'd probably try to kill if they weren't performing for them."

And just as suddenly, they are transported to the Victorian age, when traveling showmen mixed a dash of hokum with a healthy dose of bravado to create entertainment on the fly. Gertsacov revives that spirit with what he believes to be one of only two flea circuses making the rounds today. (The other, he says, is based in Australia.) His act is part sideshow, part history lesson and part spectacle of entomological derring-do. And it all fits on a tabletop stage not much bigger than a TV tray.

Gertsacov, 35, unfolded that table this week in Costa Mesa at the 22nd annual International Showcase of Performing Arts for Young People, which continues through Saturday. All around him, acting troupes and dance companies hawked their talents, hoping to land bookings at theaters and festivals.

But even as they were setting up, they ducked their heads into Gertsacov's booth for a glimpse of his self-contained fold-out big top, though stars Midge and Madge, trained fleas of the species pulex irritans, were resting in Gertsacov's hotel room, safe in the fur-lined comfort of their wooden traveling case.

Gertsacov, who drove from his home in Providence, R.I., to attend the showcase, spends the first 10 minutes of his show pitching a plethora of products, from "Save the Fleas!" bumper stickers to show programs the size of Post-it notes.

This is the "flea market part" of the performance, he said. "People go to a flea circus expecting to be hornswoggled. If they aren't, they go away disappointed."

But the show still is more fleas than fleece. Clad in lavender felt top hat and matching corduroy coat, Gertsacov shares flea trivia and tidbits from history. For instance, fleas can pull 131,000 times their own weight, and a Swedish queen once hunted them with a tiny crossbow. He glosses over that whole black plague episode; the blood-sucking parasite thing is kind of a downer. He even recites flea poetry, or as he calls it, "flea verse." A sample:

Fleas?


Adam had 'em.

The banter builds to the show's climax: the exhibition of Midge and Madge's strength and skill. The 6-foot-2, 250-pound Gertsacov gently places his minuscule stars at the helm of chariots with shirt-button wheels, which they race. That is, when one of them isn't being obstinate.

"Madge is slightly more temperamental," Gertsacov said. "But each can be a bit diva-esque."

Sometimes, the competitive juices flow, with half the crowd chanting, "Midge! Midge! Midge!" and the other half exhorting, "Madge! Madge! Madge!" (When Gertsacov performed in Brazil two years ago, "the crowd cheered like it was a soccer game," he said.)

Then it's on to the high wire, which they negotiate while carrying a tiny chair and balancing pole. There's scarcely time for a rest before Midge and Madge are whisked into a miniature cannon for the grand finale.

Before our heroes are fired through the flaming hoop of death, Gertsacov pauses for a moment of silence for all the high-flying fleas who gave their lives for low art.

"It took a while before I could figure out how to get them to land in their trailer without getting hurt," Gertsacov said, pointing to the door of a palatially decorated model Airstream emblazoned with a metallic "M." Figuring out how to safely fire his fleas into the trailer's open door was just one of the problems facing Gertsacov when he began putting the show together in 1994.

He was performing as a clown when a circus in Providence asked him to come up with an animal-trainer act. He concocted an imaginary flea circus, using mime to move his make-believe fleas. He showed the act to a clown friend, Avner the Eccentric, who advised, "Get some real fleas. You're big, the fleas are small, you love the fleas. That's your act."

Gertsacov bought the fleas, which live about two years, from an entomologist supply company in Connecticut, put them in an enclosed space and just started watching. He did plenty of other research (females are preferable to males because they are larger) but learned mainly that flea trainers are loath to share their secrets. That's a tradition Gertsacov continues. "I will tell you that through art and patience, you slowly begin to figure out what they can do," he said. He usually has seven or eight Midges and Madges in training.

Gertsacov also discovered that his show plays equally well with children and college-age crowds. He traveled last year with the Bindlestiff Family Cirkus, which describes its acts as spanning "the exotic to the erotic."

"Mine is definitely the exotic," Gertsacov said, "although the fleas do perform totally nude."

Audience reaction usually builds from bewilderment to fascination and glee, he said. But there's one response he can just about always count on: "I see a lot of scratching."