The 2025 ESL Rochester Fringe Festival runs through September 9-20, which means the CITY team is out there taking in the sights, sounds, submersions and — in the case of “Cirque du Fringe: Claws Out” and “Tarot Cabaret” — showtunes.
Read below for our select reviews and follow along on Instagram for daily updates.
Whiskered away
“Cirque du Fringe: Claws Out” | Spiegeltent | Daily through Sept. 20 | From $42 | 13+
What happens in Las Vegas stays there. But what happens in the Spiegeltent at the ESL Rochester Fringe Festival simply cannot be contained to that gorgeously mirrored structure — especially with two Vegas entertainers leading the charge.
Matt and Heidi Morgan have crafted their unique “Cirque du Fringe” programs every year since 2015, making them local favorites. Their yearly treks to Rochester have become a family tradition; they’ve even incorporated one of their children into this year’s show.
It’s no surprise that the feline-friendly 2025 edition, titled “Claws Out,” finds the pair looking like castaways from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s long-running, puzzling Broadway smash “Cats.” The Morgans — call them Funkojerrie and Rumplesleazer — move about on the periphery of “Claws Out,” letting the multi-talented performers on the bill bask in the spotlight.
Every circus needs a ringmaster, though “Claws Out” is more of a revue led by socialite and singer “Madam Kitty Ross” (comic actor Peter Vogt), who emcees the show with spunk and a penchant for the word “pussy.” Indeed, “Claws Out” relies on that easy double entendre a bit too much, to diminishing returns. But the bits truly soar when Vogt and the Morgans flex their knowledge of Broadway shows and riff on the easy targets, with Webber as an easy (and justifiable) target.
However, the banter — which struck a healthy balance of seeming both improvised and scripted — is just window dressing for the breathtaking acts of physical theater on display inside the Spiegeltent.
To say aerialist Ella Storme merely dazzled is to say Webber’s “Cats” has a discernible plot — in other words, untrue. Storme, pole dancing several feet in the air and later suspending her body on a flying trapeze, lit the tent on fire with her strength and mastery of form. Call it Lynchian: a beautiful blonde woman stultifyingly moving against a red velvet curtain.
The same could be said for the fan-favorite Kenya Golden Lion Acrobats, a trio springing to life with human pyramids and feats of delicate balance. (Watch out for the second act’s absolutely smashing limbo routine.) With the action mere inches away, the stakes — and the mastery of form — are on full display in a very intimate way.
Likewise in the up-close-and-personal realm, sword swallower Brett Loudermilk’s act is one to both gape at and potentially lose your lunch over. He’s a tremendous showman, and the show he puts on is antagonizing the crowd until there’s simply no choice but to love him — or maybe love to hate him, while applauding his breathtaking skills anyway.
Another note on the skills front: baton twirling as an art form doesn’t get its due, with his natural showmanship and gleaming pep, 24-year-old Cody Carter may be just the person to bring it to the fore of the TikTok era.
As a complete show, “Claws Out” doesn’t necessarily connect every thread — but does it have to? With its special blend of superlative spectacle and good bits (the Morgans intentionally half-botching a sexed-up dance routine is a particular highlight), the show works because of its buffet nature. A little bit of mess, a little bit of “Memory” and impossible to leave in the tent. — PATRICK HOSKEN
Interior fireworks
“Submergence” | Dawn’s Spiegelgarden | Daily through Sept. 20 | $4 | All ages
Call it the introvert’s dilemma: fireworks are dumb. They’re loud, violent booms that upset kids and pets in the name of grand-scale entertainment. And they’re dangerous!
If only there was some kind of light show that embraced the interior self while maximizing the exterior wonder of color play…
Such are the treasures of “Submergence,” a brilliant presentation from the U.K.-based art collective Squidsoup that opened on September 9, the kickoff of the 2025 ESL Rochester Fringe Festival. The experience is presented somewhat like a music concert, with a program made up of five “movements” via organized ripples of color set to a changing ambient score. The small bulbs are roughly the size of ping pong balls; they’re suspended from an overhead metal rig like vertical Christmas string lights.
Though the show is not interactive, observers are encouraged to become participants. Standing next to the installation (which resembles a luminescent garden with dangling vines) provides more of an overview of the changing colors. But standing, sitting or even lying in the field of light yields a much richer and more personal sensory adventure.
“Submergence” may seem like yet another Instagram-friendly Fringe spectacle like 2024’s “Daedalum — Architects of Air,” and it is certainly engineered for maximum social shareability. But like “Daedalum,” it also invites introspection should the participant be able to quiet their mind and focus solely on the soundscapes in their ears and the brilliance in front of their eyes.
In one movement, cotton-candy bulbs crackle like confetti and pastels pulsate like waves through the dangling structures. In another, plinking droplets of electronic water sounds match cascading streams of white light. Because the installation is outside, the lights sway in the gentle breeze to create a moving canvas; at other times, the wind itself seems to blow color through the field.
“Submergence” is, by and large, an exercise in patience. Wait out the more contemplative and minimal color flashes and the program rewards with sheer scale. Its most beautiful and moving moment arrives after much waiting — without warning, a brilliant corridor of light arrives, illuminating every single bulb. Standing in the middle of the field produces the best results, though one wonders what the overhead drone capturing signs of life at Fringe might’ve seen.
Every fireworks show needs a grand finale. “Submergence” delivers with a transcendent burst that swells visually as the pleasant drone in the headphones likewise reaches its peak. The best part? No gunpowder necessary to make this show pop. —PATRICK HOSKEN
The lovers, the dreamers and Gen Z “Tarot Cabaret” | School of the Arts: Black Box Theatre | Sept. 18-19 | From $15 | 13+
“Will my existential crisis ever end?”
“What is my dog thinking?”
“Is it the end of the world, and will I feel fine?”
These were just a few of the questions audience members scribbled on slips of paper and dropped into a glass fishbowl before taking their seats at “Tarot Cabaret” in SOTA’s Black Box Theatre on Thursday evening.
“Let’s set our intentions and take the temperature of the room before we start,” said Michaela Buckley, who functioned as both emcee and an ensemble member.
The “Tarot Cabaret” setlist each night is a sort of choose-their-own-adventure, dictated by 11 tarot cards pulled by members of the audience at the top of the show. The only constant is that each tarot card is associated with a song the eight-member company has learned. Everything else — the order, which cards are pulled — is left to the fates. Mike and Joseph Janover remain on the stage as an accompanist pit of sorts, while the six cast members rotate in and out of singing, strumming and spectating. And while the card themes, which began on Thursday with The Empress and ended with The Magician, were loosely tied to each song selection, they remained nuanced enough at times to give the audience food for thought.
The entire cast is reminiscent of the kids who were always called back for the high school musical or got the solo parts in chorus; each talented in myriad ways as they presented a songbook of (mostly) Broadway and (a few) pop songs.
Standout moments came from Ian Cannioto’s rendition of “Close Every Door To Me” (someone local stage “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat” ASAP, your lead is waiting); back-to-back songs from Tiffany Thompson including “The I Love You Song” from the “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee,” in which their vocals elicited gasps of awe from the audience; and a delightful cast singalong of “Rainbow Connection” (shouts to Jim Henson and Kermit the Frog).
Perhaps the most poignant moment of the night was “I’ll Be Here” from the musical “Ordinary Days,” which chronicles a NYC woman falling in love and then losing her husband on 9/11. Katya Janover delivered a stunning performance that left the audience in quiet tears on what was, coincidentally, the 24th anniversary.
Presented by the local queer-led company Sunday Stages, “Tarot Cabaret” feels like an episode of “Glee,” as told by the lovers, the dreamers and Gen Z — a joyful 60-minute sampler of lesser known musicals and monstrous local talent. —LEAH STACY
“Shotspeare” | Spiegeltent | Daily Sept. 17-20 | From $35 | 21+
When people think of Shakespeare, “Titus Andronicus” is not what typically comes to mind. “Romeo and Juliet,” perhaps. The Scottish Play.
But a lesser known play where the plot centers around the title character’s return from war? Where his prisoners in tow — Tamora, queen of the Goths (a Germanic people in this case, not the black eyeliner kind), her three sons and Aaron the Moor — vow revenge on their Roman general captor? What follows is one of the Bard’s grittiest shows, a strangely gory mix of “Gladiator,” “Jaws” and “Sweeney Todd.”
Still, the team behind “Shotspeare,” one of Fringe’s most popular offerings led by Matt and Heidi Morgan, decided to adapt “Titus Andronicus” for the boozy stage this year, making it a world premiere for both the company and Fringe.
If the five-person cast (the same returning crew from 2024) hasn’t already proven they can make anything funny, this particular show confirms the fact. It’s NSFW, it’s bawdy, it’s kind of … grotesque? But hey, just add Genny Light.
Returning schtick includes pulling a member from the audience to play a role (the young man who was onstage opening night was enthusiastic and charming, though no one seemed to catch his name); the Wheel of Soliloquy (socks!); and the Morgans’ penchant for out-of-context wigs and masks. (Spock or Elvis?)
Then there were the memorable lines “you left me like a churros” and “who doth molest my contemplation,” which should both be used in daily conversation going forward.
However dark and chaotic it became at times, “Shotspeare” held attention and elicited many laughs, even when no one could follow the plot — and maybe that was the whole point. Theater once again making a welcome case for levity, even on the darkest days. —LEAH STACY
Journey and destination
“TRACES” | Dawn’s Spiegelgarden | One-off
When did you arrive? When did you become the person you are? When did you first find the place you call home? What was your baggage when you got there? Are you even there yet?
After you leave, will you leave a trace?
Good art answers questions, but great art raises them. “TRACES,” the magnetic dance and spoken word performance from French ice puppeteer Elise Vigneron, did both. In the process, the free one-off show on September 13 captivated a growing throng in the Spiegelgarden.
Yet once the show wrapped, all that remained were stray thoughts — encased in frozen foot sculptures, melting on the pavement.
“TRACES” is hard to describe, but the “performers” of the piece were two dozen Rochesterians who twirled together, drifted apart, hugged and supported each other and, eventually, retreated one by one. When they coordinated, it was sartorially (in shades of wine, peach and mustard) as well as corporeally. The pack was strong, spanning ages, abilities and appearances.
The locals leaned on each other. They found each other’s movements and matched them. In lines, huddles and dominos, they navigated. At one point, arm-in-arm like Rockettes, they created a bit of a trust exercise, with those traveling backwards relying solely on the rest of the group.
But when certain members broke away to move to their own rhythms, the piece hummed with meaning.
Soundtracked by intermittent monologues, the action was primarily driven by the motion of the movers. Their own words crackled over the speakers, guiding the action and creating a juxtaposition of meaning.
Eventually, the sound revealed recordings of their actual identities and their stories, their connections to Rochester and descriptions of their own feet as well as their relationships to them. Why feet? Well, that’s kind of the whole thing. “TRACES” is, at heart, about journey vs. destination — in either case, we all get there on our own feet.
“My feet ground me,” one performer said in a testimony.
“I’m a ballet dancer, so I take care of my feet,” said another.
And thus, the feet — and the sculptures. As these stories played, the performers retrieved the colorful coolers they carried when they entered the scene. Each presented what Vigneron had created: molds of their feet. Three-dimensional recreations of young, old, athletic, weary, busy and not so mobile.
These sculptures, the centerpieces of the show, are like sand mandalas: made to disappear. The show itself likewise is, hence the sole performance. This makes “TRACES” a wonderfully poignant experience. Those who saw it weren’t just witnesses. The crowd was involved in a dialogue just by being there.All parties, including the audience, are now gone from that space. And that’s the point. Even the puddles left by the melted ice are now dried up, leaving no trace. But arrivals are always transitory. The memories — just like the questions raised by great art — remain. —PATRICK HOSKEN
