Ask anyone who works for Cirque du Soleil, and they'll tell you a circus really isn't a circus without a big top - some of the magic just melts away when sitting in a massive arena such as the United Center, the home of basketball teams and rock stars. The Montreal-based circus conglomerate, which has reinterpreted the genre in many magical ways, firmly believes in holding court the old-fashioned way.

"There is an added mystique under an intimate big top," said Larry Clark, the circus' technical director. "We get to create the space from scratch, to create this world over for each show."

A week before the performers came to town for Cirque du Soleil's newest creation, Dralion, workers were busy setting up the site, which includes the distinctive blue and yellow striped big top, entrance tents and a performers' tent with dressing rooms and costume shop. Forty-one semitrailers loaded with technical equipment, costumes, tents and other gear were crammed into the arena's south parking lot.

Putting up the 60-foot-high main tent, made of heavy-duty industrial vinyl, is the first big feat of the Cirque traveling shows. Last Friday, the massive canvas was laid out around four tall scaffolding-like poles with the cupola suspended in the center. Slowly the sagging tent was cranked upward, raising the "ceiling" off the ground.

A crew of Cirque workers and local hires then went inside the partially raised tent, unloaded 107 poles and attached them to the sides of the tent. Under the direction of Jan Homan, the tent master, the crew was instructed how to hoist the poles that would hold up the sides of the tent. Accompanied by grunts and yells, the mad rush had a sort of a domino effect as the men and women raced around the inside of the tent hoisting each successive pole, accompanied by whoops and applause.

Marc Beaudry, the circus' logistics director, called the setup "a strenuous time." "We work incredibly long hours, and coordination is the key," he said. "And there are passionate moments within all the work."

Two days later, the tent and its cables had been tightened, and the big top looked ready to go. Inside, the technical crew climbed scaffolding to work around the highest reaches of the tent, readying the 14 tons of overhead equipment. The stage (41 feet in diameter) was in place and the metallic, gridlike, curved backdrop (59 feet wide and 26 feet high) was assembled.

Seating for 2,500 was taking form.

Three aluminum rings were suspended from the cupola: The grid became a catwalk for workers and performers; another would hold projectors and a huge lantern used in the show, and the third, called the sun, rotates and moves up and down.

"We're pushing the boundaries both artistically and technically," Clark said. "We make the tent work harder for us."

It takes the crew seven days to get the site ready and two days to tear it down. The high-flying equipment used by the artists is attached to the tent and is checked on a daily basis. The entire operation undergoes a thorough weekly inspection. (Pounded into the pavement were three-foot pegs that secure the cables. They in turn secure the tents. The pavement will be repaired after the circus leaves town.)

Cirque du Soleil has its own generators and relies on the City of Chicago only for water and telephone hookups. Also on site is a kitchen with five cooks who serve three meals, six days a week to the 150 employees.

Weather is always an issue for Cirque's traveling shows. A setup day was lost recently in New York because of high winds, and in Atlanta, frigid temperatures caused generators to break down. After a surprise snowfall in Denver, the entire Cirque crew was called out to shovel snow off the tents.

"Working outdoors is always a challenge," Beaudry said. "You always have to keep an eye on the forecast and which way the wind is blowing."

Many of the technical and logistics crew have previously worked on rock tours and theater productions. They are old hands at life on the road, but the lure of life with Cirque du Soleil offered something new.

"Some of us are old tour bums," said Clark, who worked on the Tornoto production of "The Lion King" before joining Cirque du Soleil last year. "We feel absolutely spoiled doing this for a living. In the latter stages of a touring life, this is a great job to have."

Indeed, traveling 52 weeks a year, the Cirque cast and crew are a modern-day band of gypsies. While in Chicago, the crew and performers live in apartments scattered around downtown. Setting up shop for six to eight weeks allows time to get to know a city, Clark said. Traveling all over North America is the big draw.

"In past jobs, I could tell you everything about the venue but nothing about the city," Clark said. "We were never there long enough to get to know it."

"This job redefined gypsy life for me," added Beaudry, a three-year Cirque employee who has spent the last year on tour. "Now I get a sense of the city and the people in it. I haven't tired of it yet."

After Chicago, Dralion moves on to Boston, Philadelphia, Dallas and Houston. By the end of its three-year tour, the show will have stopped in 17 cities across Canada and the United States.