Imago suspends two bodies in a custom-designed rope loop system to pose a dizzying question: how long can we hold on to someone before letting them go? At Adelaide Fringe, former Cirque du Soleil artists Gabrielle Martin and Jeremiah Hughes, partners on stage and in life, let attraction, resistance, and separation write the story on their bodies, in a non-verbal, sensory, and eminently human language. This interview takes us behind the scenes of a work where you can hear the breathing, see the fatigue, and where suspension, light, and music compose an emotional landscape that invites you to feel before you understand.

Gabrielle, you will be presenting your aerial dance show Imago at Adelaide Fringe 2026. Tell us about the show.
Imago is a contemporary aerial dance duet that explores the tension between holding on to someone and letting them go. The work is at the crossroads of circus, contemporary dance, and visual theatre, in a non-verbal form that is deeply sensory and emotional.
The show is based on a piece of apparatus that we designed ourselves: a system of rope loops on three levels. This minimalist apparatus allowed us to break away from the codified vocabulary of aerial circus and develop an original choreographic language, where suspension becomes a space of relationship and transformation.
In Imago, virtuosity is never demonstrative. The risk is real, the fatigue visible, the breathing audible. We seek to create an immersive experience where the audience physically feels the forces that pass through the bodies: attraction, resistance, separation.
You are presenting the show with Jeremiah Hughes, with whom you founded Corporeal Imago. Why did you create this company?
Corporeal Imago was born out of a desire to regain full artistic agency after several years in major international productions. These experiences gave us exceptional rigour and mastery of large-scale spectacle, but we felt the need to create works capable of conveying a deeper emotional and philosophical complexity.
With Corporeal Imago, we explore existential questions through the body: the tension between human agency and forces beyond our control, fragility, loss, transformation. Our work is part of an interdisciplinary approach, where circus becomes a narrative language in its own right, rather than simply a vehicle for feats of skill.
With Corporeal Imago, we explore existential questions through the body: the tension between human agency and forces beyond our control, fragility, loss, transformation.

How long have you known each other?
Jeremiah and I met in 2015, when we were performing lead roles in Cirque du Soleil’s TORUK – The First Flight. Our relationship was initially built on a very strong artistic affinity: we were both performers with dance training in the production, which profoundly influenced our approach to character development through movement. We instinctively spoke the same body language, which naturally led to a lasting collaboration and, later, to the co-founding of Corporeal Imago.
Can you tell us about being artists with Cirque du Soleil.
We spent several years with Cirque du Soleil. I was a performer, actress, and aerial artist, while Jeremiah was a performer, actor, and acrobat. We performed in extremely demanding contexts, sometimes doing up to ten shows a week in front of thousands of spectators.
In TORUK, we played characters in love—and little by little, life imitated art. We got engaged while on tour, then married after leaving the show. That period, condensed into four exceptionally intense years, was profoundly formative. We moved every week, traveling across North America, Asia, Europe, the United Kingdom, and the Middle East. There were dizzying highs and moments of profound exhaustion—a succession of ups and downs that forge character. Having gone through all of that together is a real gift today.
In TORUK, we played characters in love—and little by little, life imitated art.
After Cirque du Soleil, do you still feel the influence of that world in your creations?
Yes, but in a transposed way. We don’t seek to reproduce its codes, but its high standards are integrated into our work. What we have left behind is the idealisation of the body as a quasi-mythical or invulnerable figure. In Imago, the body is powerful, but also subject to external forces: fatigue, the other, time. Virtuosity becomes a tool in the service of a deeply human form of expression.
Where did the inspiration for Imago come from?
The inspiration came from physical research in the studio. While exploring suspension for two, we discovered that gravity functioned not only as a technical constraint, but as a real narrative force. Instead of imposing a narrative, we let the laws of physics—attraction, separation, resistance—structure the piece.
we discovered that gravity functioned not only as a technical constraint, but as a real narrative force.
Our process was entirely deconstructed. We didn’t start with a text or a fixed concept, but with images, improvisations, and real constraints. Imago was built from what the bodies were actually experiencing in the space, in a constant dialogue between movement, emotion, and structure.
What emotions are you trying to evoke in this show?
We explore deeply human states: attachment, fear of loss, the persistence of the bond, but also the need to let go. These emotions are not illustrated, they are physically embodied. We seek to create a sensory resonance, where the viewer feels these tensions in their own body before analysing them.
Your work combines circus, dance, and visual theatre. How does your creative process begin?
Very often with an image—imagined, almost dreamt. It generates movement, then emotion, then structure.
The process is not linear. If you give it space, the work reveals itself. There is an element of listening in our creative process—as if we were in conversation with something beyond ourselves. I sometimes perceive the process as a dialogue with a greater form of intelligence, which manifests itself through the body and movement.
In Imago, the music, lighting, and set design were conceived from the outset as an emotional landscape.
I sometimes perceive the process as a dialogue with a greater form of intelligence, which manifests itself through the body and movement.
How do height and suspension embody emotional tensions?
When two bodies are suspended together, gravity acts as an invisible partner. It attracts, separates, creates tension, and imposes choices. Every transfer of weight becomes a negotiation; every hesitation has real consequences.
We let this physical reality write the narrative. At height, nothing can be faked: vulnerability is amplified and tension becomes palpable.
At height, nothing can be faked: vulnerability is amplified and tension becomes palpable.
How do you manage differences in artistic vision?
Our visions complement each other naturally, especially in visual work. We share a strong sensitivity to composition, light, and scenic texture.
The differences are more apparent in the structure. My approach is rooted in post-dramatic forms, open to fragmentation and ambiguity. Jeremiah, with his theatre training, tends toward more legible lines and a more structured progression. This tension is fertile. In movement, too, our backgrounds interact: my background in contact improvisation favours listening and the unexpected; his, which comes from ballroom dancing, is based on more defined frameworks. These frictions feed into the writing.
In movement, too, our backgrounds interact: my background in contact improvisation favours listening and the unexpected; his, which comes from ballroom dancing, is based on more defined frameworks. These frictions feed into the writing.

Has your vision of humanity evolved?
Yes, it has become clearer. Initially, we explored tragedy in the Greek sense—the tension between human will and inexorable forces.
Gradually, we questioned the myth of individual destiny. Today, our work reveals a complex ecology in which humans are fragile, sometimes complicit, always intertwined with forces greater than themselves—natural, social, or cosmic.
In Imago, this idea is focused on an intimate scale: two bodies, almost like tragic lovers, confronted with time and the forces that alter bonds. In our current creation, Drift, this cosmological dimension becomes more explicit.
Gradually, we questioned the myth of individual destiny. Today, our work reveals a complex ecology in which humans are fragile, sometimes complicit, always intertwined with forces greater than themselves—natural, social, or cosmic.
What kind of dialogue do you hope to initiate with the audience?
A sensitive, non-prescriptive dialogue. Imago does not offer a single message, but a space where everyone can recognize something from their own experience. Often, this begins with a sensation before becoming language.
Imago does not offer a single message, but a space where everyone can recognize something from their own experience.
How have Montreal and Vancouver shaped your choreographic identity?
Before leaving Vancouver in 2006, that’s where it all began: walking on stilts, fire dancing, a playful and communal relationship with the circus. I discovered somatic practices there and developed a deep love for contact improvisation.
In Montreal, I acquired real technical mastery, rigorous professionalisation, and immersion in a wide variety of contemporary practices. I saw a lot of international circus and dance there—an invaluable exposure at a key moment.
Returning to Vancouver in 2020, I now occupy a different space. The context is more intimate, but offers real freedom of initiative. My work bears the mark of these comings and goings: an organic physicality nourished by Vancouver and structured by Montreal’s high standards.
My work bears the mark of these comings and goings: an organic physicality nourished by Vancouver and structured by Montreal’s high standards.
Why should Adelaide Fringe audiences come see Imago?
Because Imago offers a rare experience: a truly interdisciplinary language where circus, dance, and visual theatre come together in a coherent and embodied form. The lighting and music create an immersive universe, and the emotional impact is tangible.
It’s not just an aerial show; it’s a sensory journey that is both spectacular and intimate.
And since the run is short—from February 19 to March 1 at Gluttony (Ukiyo)—it’s a precious opportunity to discover a work that was acclaimed at the Edinburgh Fringe.
It’s not just an aerial show; it’s a sensory journey that is both spectacular and intimate.
Anything else to add?
We are excited to present Imago for the first time in Australia, having heard so much about the energy of the Adelaide Fringe. The piece will be presented in a circular format in the intimate space of Ukiyo. This configuration brings the audience closer to the action—you can hear breathing and perceive micro-adjustments. This proximity amplifies the immersive dimension of the show. We can’t wait to experience this encounter with the Australian audience.
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We thank Gabrielle Martin from Corporeal Imago for this interview and can’t wait to see Imago at Adelaide Fringe 2026.
KEY INFO FOR IMAGO
WHAT: The show Imago at Adelaide Fringe 2026
WHEN:
- Thursday 19 February – Sunday 22 February at 8:40pm
- Tuesday 24 February – Sunday 1 March at 8:40pm
WHERE: Ukiyo at Gluttony, Rymill Park, ADELAIDE
HOW: Buy your tickets via this link
HOW MUCH: Ticket prices (excluding the transaction fee) are:
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Full price: $25.00 to $35.00
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Midweek Treat: $25.00
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Companion Card: $0.00
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Fringe Member: $15.00 to $17.50 (2 ticket minimum)
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Child: $20.00 to $25.00
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Health Care Cardholder: $25.00 to $30.00
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Senior: $25.00 to $30.00
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Student: $25.00 to $30.00
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Family: $25.00 to $30.00 (4 ticket minimum)
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