[Review] The Air Between Us & Heartbreak Hotel | Luminato Festival
Luminato Festival is an annual month-long performing arts festival in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. It's the biggest of its kind in Canada, featuring international and local dance, circus, theatre, and touring work in partnership with venues around the city – going a long way to activate site-specific lots.
Saturday was a double bill for me, taking my friend and colleague to see an aerial dance piece (The Air Between Us) and then a psychoanalytic comedy show (Heartbreak Hotel). New Zealand seems to have great representation this year, with both companies hailing from the small Oceanic island.
Both pieces took place at Harbourfront Centre, and mixed with the air of excitement FIFA 2026 is bringing to the downtown core, we ended up with a truly beautiful, sunny day full of chill vibes and breezy waves.
The Air Between Us
In the poetic vein of titles like The Distance Between Us and The Light Between Oceans, The Air Between Us is all about connection.
The stage of the show was a circular patch of green area on Harbourfront Centre's west lawn, a odd-looking triangle dangling from truss weighted down on both ends by heavyset blocks.
Performed by Chloe Loftus (founder of Chloe Loftus Dance) and Florent Devlesaver, the pair began unassumingly by walking into the "arena" and dancing on the grass before strapping themselves to the aerial wires and lifting off – all controlled by a third performer, the rigger Greg Kolbe, on the side.
As they flew over, around, underneath each other, Loftus pulled out some impressive illusions of walking horizontally upward through the air, using only her big toe and second toe to grip the aerial wires as Kolbe literally pulled the strings.
There were elements of contact improvisation and contemporary dance moves, made buoyant by the lift of the harness. However, just like Dance of the Lucky Fish in China's CCTV Gala 2026, with any dancing where you're strapped airborne, it hurts (as Chloe later told me).
The wire could be clipped and unclipped to either both or just one person at a time.
The most anticipated moment of the show, of course, was when Florent would get airborne because – it must be acknowledged – he is a wheelchair user. According to his biography on the Luminato Festival website, Florent lost the use of his legs in a work accident. Fortunately, he discovered dance in the process of reclaiming his body, and the rest is history. He is now a celebrated professional dancer in the realm of inclusive and contemporary dance.
Counterbalance and grace.
And what a time for inclusive dance it's been. From deaf dance to disability collectives, I've noticed an increasing trend of disabled dancers taking the spotlight in recent years – though it's important to also note that disabled dance has been around for a long time; now it's getting the widespread recognition it deserves.
As Florent spun and twirled mid-air, his wheelchair spun with him, strapped securely at the waist and feet. We looked on in gentle wonder at the literal heights he achieved, proving that there are no limitations to the creativity of the human mind, and possibly no physical limitation we can't overcome either.
For The Air Between Us was conceptualized at a very dividing time in history: the onset of COVID-19. Chloe recounted to me that she really wanted to create something that connected us through our shared humanity. Through play and rigging wires between trees in the forest (yes, that's how they started), The Air Between Us was born.
Soon, it was picked up by Sydney Festival, then another festival, then another, and now they're on their current world tour.
Originally, there had been a different wheelchair performer and rigger, but both left the company. Chloe met Florent as a spectator during one of the shows, and Florent told her he'd love to give it a try one day. A few years later, when the original performer had left, she emailed him and asked, "Do you still want to give it a try?"
What I loved about the dance was its peace in taking it slow, in allowing the seconds to unfold without feeling like something had to happen every other moment. In one section they spun together, just gazing thankfully at each other, and that was enough.
As Chloe came down and walked away into the distance, Florent hoisted himself once again into the air and finished off with a last circling spin, unbound by beginnings or endings.
Returning to earth, the three performers took their well-deserved bows and invited us to come forth and share our thoughts and feelings.
"I hope this piece brought you something you needed today," Chloe finished, as an audience member nodded along.
Excerpts from The Air Between Us.

Heartbreak Hotel
Switching gears to a more lighthearted but somehow also more grievous show, Heartbreak Hotel is about (dis)connection in a tender, darker – and hilarious – way.
What happens to the body when it goes through heartbreak? What funny, regrettable things do we do when we're falling out of control and out of tune? Karin McCracken took the stage in this intimate theatre comedy romp about a woman dealing with the aftermath of the end of a six-year relationship, with musical highlights played on her (self-claimed "recently learned") synth board.
Though Simon Leary shared the stage in his interpretations of every other character other than Karin in the show, I consider this a one-woman tale; it just seems right (though Simon was remarkably adept at putting on personas for every person from an angry straight man to the gay best friend to an elderly accountant).
Karin started the show by walking out and asking us a question: "Is anyone here heartbroken?" She told us to keep the answers in our heads and scanned each row , saying she could tell from our eyes alone.
Uh, oh. Seemed like she had her work cut out for her.
Then she asked us if the suit was too much and showed off all sides of her oversized lavender suit set with a studded heart on the back and long fringe all down the sleeves. No!
As she explored the different phases of relationship grief – disbelief to resignation to the loss and return of serotonin – we watched on incredulously as the tale unfolded from what could've been a simple relationship gone wrong to a six-year back-and-forth as both guy and girl refused to uphold the true breakings of a love (i.e. total separation). In fact, they remained "best friends" for six years afterward until, finally, she broke it off. Talk about full circle.
I chuckled when Karin visited her doctor, claiming that breaking up doesn't negate the possibility that she could also have a heart condition.
To the tunes of "It's All Coming Back to Me Now, " "I Can't Make You Love Me," and "Heartbreak Hotel," the show spirals into a heartful, compassionate – sometimes surreal – telling of the messy, grueling, and oftentimes ridiculous happenings when a relationship falls apart.
(And as I've experienced personally too, a Berlin night out isn't always the cure, but it sure darn helps.)
Conceived by New Zealand company EBKM and directed by Eleanor Bishop, Heartbreak Hotel speaks to the truth in all of us, that love is love, love is comedy, and love is also tragedy. But, somehow, we come out the other side.
For the lovers and loved and brokenhearted and healed, this one's for you.

Luminato Festival continues for the rest of June. Stay tuned for more reviews.
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