Cirque du Soleil: ECHO
The day after Christmas, we went to see the circus: Cirque du Soleil: ECHO.
The venue was in very familiar territory: the parking lot of Oracle Park. The last time I saw Cirque du Soleil there was in 2019, for Amaluna, right before we all entered the long dark tunnel of the pandemic. Returning to the same place, years later, for another Cirque du Soleil show felt quietly meaningful.
The big top for ECHO was a bit smaller than some other Cirque tents I had seen. The largest one I remember was KOOZA in Korea (maybe because of the big Wheel of Death). Even so, the setup was intimate, and our seats were close to the stage, which made everything feel more intense and immediate.









At the concession stand, I was surprised by the checkout system: it was Amazon Go–style. I tapped my card at the entrance, grabbed food freely, and walked out. No checkout line. Everything was charged automatically. It felt strangely futuristic for a circus.
The show itself was excellent, as expected from Cirque du Soleil, but what stood out to me was how physical it was. Many Cirque shows lean heavily on elaborate stage mechanics and moving sets (though definitely it is human skills that make it great). ECHO felt more like a traditional circus in the best way. The focus was almost entirely on human bodies: hanging, swinging, balancing, climbing ladders, jumping, flying. There was a massive red marionette that served as the visual symbol of the show, but most of the real magic came from raw human movement and control.









Another thing I appreciated: every Cirque show has a storyline, usually involving a protagonist guided by strange beings through an abstract journey. Often, the main character and the clowns are more prop(symbolic) than active. In ECHO, the protagonist and the clowns actually performed. They were not just narrative devices. They were central to the physical storytelling, and that made the whole experience feel more alive.









Walking out of the tent into the cold night, I felt that quiet satisfaction that only good live performances leave behind. It was the perfect way to close the year.