A Note from the Composer... Ever since I was a child I found myself surrounded by people of the stage, cabaret and concert hall. Such artists have their own special way of watching the world. They embrace their own sense of humor and have an innate grasp of the human comedy. Of course, this droll world-view does not prevent them from bearing, so deep within their souls that it can never be rooted out, the indelible mark of tragedy. When I was ten years old, I secured work in an amusement park. It resembled a miniature city with a circus tent in the middle. For a tongue-tied little boy, it was as though I were caught up in a never-ending magic holiday. Living among the artists, clowns, midgets and musicians, I came to understand fundamental verities that helped transform the way in which I approached the world. I noticed that the clowns were sad, and that they smiled only while wearing make-up. I noticed that the real show began right after the curtain fell, when the artists were together, chatting, celebrating, telling stories, preparing for the next show and living their real lives. For me, the onlooker, the outsider, the audience-voyeur, it was only then that the true lessons were revealed. I was amazed by the sacrifice put into preparing five minutes of entertainment. The hours of rehearsal spent repeating voltas, jumps and illusion tricks, again and again, always again. In the great discipline of the performer, I measured the wonderful range of the human imagination and discovered depthless reservoirs of creativity. Le Cirque de la Lune is my homage to the arts of the circus. I hereby pay tribute to the world of circuses and the people of circuses all around the world. From the small traveling tent show to the Cirque du Soleil extravaganza, let us celebrate the great big global circus family that has enriched all our lives... K. A. J.