Death-Defying Acts

The trapeze artists from the Great Moscow Circus perform some of the most dangerous stunts. They share their tricks with Claire Keeton

The narrow platform swayed as Natalya Maksimova pulled herself onto it next to me, giving me a dizzying sense of the void into which she was about to swing.

Natalya is one of the seven stars of the Akilov Flying Trapeze of the Great Moscow Circus, acclaimed internationally along with the Cirque du Soleil as the best in the world.

These performers have the talent of Olympic gymnasts - a sport in which Russia has won countless medals - and two of them were on the women's gymnastics team before joining the trapeze troupe.

For more than 50 years the Moscow Circus has been touring internationally, and in South Africa 35000 tickets had been sold before the recent premiere, which performed to a full house.

Natalya, 32, who has performed across the world for 12 years, said the enthusiasm of the audience spurred them on. She still feels a surge of adrenaline before she does her first stunt of the show, and all of them are aware of the risks they take under the big top.

"If you have no fear, you cannot be in this act. Fear is what drives professionalism and I will not work with anyone who does not have this innate human emotion," said Nikolai Akilov, the producer of the Akilov Flying Trapeze act.

As I moved to the outer edge of the platform, two of the trapeze artists set up a bar for Natalya at the same level as my shoulder. I sensed how much courage she needed to swing out at that height and let go, trusting her partner to catch her.

From up in their aerie, the safety net looked far away. And it felt even further below when she unclipped one of my two safety cables.

She needed it much more for her dangerous stunt and I was, after all, on a platform as big as an oversize skateboard.

When she took off, the three stars gestured at me to hang on and the power with which she leapt was tangible.

The suspense when Oleg Nikitin reached out for her hands and touched them was electrifying. However, he couldn't hold her and she dived down, landing perfectly in the net.

Blinding lights during the first rehearsal in Johannesburg impaired the performance of the catchers, also known as "porters".

But by the time opening night rolled around, their timing was immaculate and their act flawless, even throwing in a triple somersault and corking through the air.

These performers risk their lives and defy the limits of the human body with the strength, grace and talent they display.

Fatal trapeze accidents are reported at regular intervals. A trapeze artist from the Walker Brothers Circus in the US died last month from traumatic brain injury after he slipped off a swing and fell onto his head.

Nikolai, who was a trapeze star for 30 years, said: "They are performing in the circus's most dangerous genre. All the trapeze performers come from a gymnastic background.

"To perform in the trapeze act is to reach the pinnacle of your career. If you do not have gymnastic skills you will never be able to perform at this level. The training is strenuous, requires intense concentration, and your body must have the stamina to maintain this training regime."

The four women on the team looked like ballerinas, with taut muscles visible through their shimmering stockings. The three men, one a trapeze artist and two porters, were also lean but muscles bulged through their white Lycra outfits.

The troupe are all from the river town of Rostov-on-Don. Nikolai found them while scouting for talent in the land of the Cossacks.

And if trust and intimacy are pivotal when leaping through the air and expecting to be caught, four of the members of the Akilov troupe are in relationships with each other.

Trying to paint a picture of their home, 34-year-old Maria Mityaeva, who is married to Alexander Khvan, 33, said: "Rostov-on-Don is about half the size of Moscow and there is snow in the winter."

Both Oleg and Natalya have babies staying with their partners at home in Rostov while they are on tour.

"My husband is looking after my 11-month-old son," said Natalya, who still has the body of a girl.

Despite their wiry appearance, they say they eat what they want - I watched them eat kebabs and drink sodas (not diet) for lunch.

When asked if they imported any delicacies from home, like caviar while touring - 11 months out of a year - they laughed and said host countries had what they needed, but added that they do bring Russian films for times when they can unwind at the hotel.

The irony of modern circus life is that their itinerant existence is structured and mostly predictable, unlike the days when caravans wound their way through country roads.

Nikolai said: "We all get up at about 7 o'clock and have breakfast together. We rehearse for about two hours after that.

"Before the premiere we do not have much free time as we must prepare with props."

The members - who earn about $85 (R600) a show - are effectively in isolation, travelling from the hotel to the stage and back, until the tour is over on April 27.

After that they hope to go on a Big Five safari in the land of "Nelson Mandela, gold and diamonds", before they depart for Japan.

Maria said: "Now we must practise every day. If there is a pause between shows, we lose our skills for tricks.

Coiled up in a yellow Adidas tracksuit top, gold stockings and ballet shoes, Natalya said: "I love to fly, this is my life."

Redhead Anna Demochka, 20, said she enjoyed it, but it was scary.

"You know, no?" she asked me, having stood alongside me up in the big top and she had no safety line.

"You can feel so much scared that you are shivering. You must be very skilled and full of attention, even when falling into the net," she said.

I had wanted to swing but wasn't allowed to, and I understand why. You not only need to know how to fly but also how to fall.

These athletes have such superb balance that Oleg, who used to fly before he concentrated on catching, leaned back on his swing during one of the rests and put his feet up. On a bar the size of a ruler.

No safety line.

"Ever since doing sports I've wanted to work as a trapeze artist, because I really like the feeling of flight, and the feeling of height and adrenaline," he said.

The centre catcher Marat Devlikamov, 28, was perched high above everyone over the middle of the net.

When it was his turn he swung down on bent legs, reaching out for his flying partners and propelling them onwards.

Marat, who has been catching for eight years, said: "I like everything about it."

The exacting challenge of the trapeze is both mental and physical.

"Along with dedication and hard work is the joy of being at the top of your game," said Nikolai, 53.

After rehearsal, Alexander somersaulted down, rubbing his elbow.

Oleg said injuries impacted on how long they could do flying trapeze, usually until their 40s - and the intensity of their desire also influenced this decision.

'You must have the wish. You must want to fly," said Oleg, who has worked with other circuses. "Ours is the best act with the best circus."

• The Great Moscow Circus is performing at Carnival City, Johannesburg, until April 11; and at Grand West Casino in Cape Town from April 16 to April 27

He said it:

Frenchman Philippe Petit, who rigged an illegal tightrope between the Twin Towers of the World Trade Centre in 1974 and walked across it unprotected, had this to say about the fear of the void:

'It cannot be done all at once. To overpower vertigo - the keeper of the abyss - one must tame it, cautiously'