Safety guidelines for fire performance

First of all, one clear thing

Play builds fire props and the 100% PURE KEVLAR® made in Italy. We treat that fibre with the same obsession for consistency that we put into a club or an aerial silk: if the material is predictable, you can think about the move, not about a surprise. Fire, though, is not a product. It is an element. This page will not teach you to spin a lit poi, and it does not replace a teacher, a local permit or the venue’s insurance. It is the talk we would have out loud before anyone walked into the yard “just to try”.

If you have not yet worked cold with a competent teacher, do not light up. No Play prop, however well made, makes you ready on its own. The rules of the place you are in still apply: some cities want a permit, some festivals want a fire plan, some neighbours will send you home at the first smell of lamp oil. Ask before, not after.

Two ways in

Some people buy a Play prop already built — a Poseidon, a Nybras, an Ara torch — and only need to know what must be around them for the first burn. Others build: they fold a wick, close a monkey fist, sew an edge. For fibre size there is the Kevlar buying guide. For space, people and extinguishing, you are in the right place. Respect for the flame is the same; only the work before the light changes.

A note if you spit fire or do fakir work: that is a different craft, with its own fuels, its own risks to mouth and lungs, and its own teachers. This page is about props you spin, throw or hold. It is not a fire-eating manual.

Before you light

You learn the move cold. Then, when the flame is there, you should not still be thinking about the wrist: you should be thinking about the audience, the wind, and the person standing ready with the blanket. If the cold move is still shaky, the flame will not fix it. It will only make it more dangerous.

The space matters as much as the prop. You want an open, clean area, away from dry hedges, curtains, plastic, fuel cans and anyone watching. The audience is not “a bit further back”: they are far enough that a prop that leaves your hand cannot reach them. Wind stretches the flame the wrong way. If you are indoors, ask before what is allowed — that is not a detail to solve with a wick already lit.

You do not light up alone. You need a safety person who is not filming, not chatting, and not the same person spinning the prop. That person has a fire blanket, an extinguisher they know how to use, and a first-aid kit for burns. They also have the emergency number and a way out if something goes wrong. It sounds like a lot, said like this. The first time you need it, it sounds like too little.

You, meanwhile, are sober. No alcohol, nothing that slows the hands or shortens judgement. Wear something close-fitting, in a natural fibre: cotton, wool. Synthetics and loose clothes like flame more than they like you. Hair up, no flying scarf, no pockets full of spare lighters “just in case”.

The prop, before it becomes a flame

Every time, even if yesterday went fine: look at the wicks and ropes. A frayed edge, a stitch that pulls, a ring with play, a clip that no longer closes like day one — these are details when the prop is cold and the evening’s problem when it is hot. Play Kevlar is compact and consistent so you can trust the material. Trust does not replace five seconds of looking before you dip.

Fuel stays only where it is meant to burn: the poi head, the staff wick, the torch. Tethers, handles, knobs, swivels and hardware stay dry. A soaked tether is not “a bit more flame”. It is a line of fire toward the hand. If you build, the Kevlar guide tells you which rope should soak and which should not. If you bought a finished prop, do not improvise: do not wet what Play left dry on purpose.

After the dip you spin off the excess. You do not light a prop that is dripping. Drops on the ground are a second flame you did not choose, often near feet or near the audience. A closed can, away from the lighting spot, and clean hands before you pick the prop up again: boring gestures, and the ones that keep the night ordinary.

The fuel

Play does not sell fuel, and does not certify an “official Play fuel”. What you use should be a product sold for fire work, bought from someone you trust, and accepted by the place you light it. Many performers use lamp oil or liquid paraffin made for this; others follow what their teacher gave them. The simple rule: if you took it from the car shelf or from under the sink, it is not a performance fuel.

Every fuel has a character — how it smokes, how it drips, how long it stays hot after you put it out. Learn that in small amounts, outdoors, with the safety person already in place. Do not mix “to see what happens”. Do not take a can on a plane. Do not leave the vessel open next to the lighting spot. And if someone tells you “indoors is fine”, ask the person who runs the room, not the group chat.

What not to use, with no soft landing

These are not fire-prop fuels. They are the fastest way to turn a practice into an accident:

• Car petrol — too volatile, too hot, too unpredictable. It is not “the cheap version of white gas”.
• Diesel — thick smoke, a heavy smell, a bad burn. It is hard on you and on anyone watching.
• Acetone — it evaporates in a moment and lights when you did not ask it to.
• Burning alcohol — a clear flame, a low flash point, no margin. It is not the fuel for the night, and not a yard experiment.

If the can does not say it is for lamps, torches or fire work — or if the label talks about engines, degreasers or nail polish — leave it where it is.

After, when the flame is gone

Extinguishing is not “the yellow has gone”. It is the blanket, or the method your teacher showed you, and then the wait. Kevlar holds heat. A head that looks out can still hold an ember, and an ember lights again. Do not put it in a bag, in a car or against a curtain because “it’s done”. Stay there, with the safety person, until you can touch the prop without a surprise. Then leave it somewhere that, if it woke up, would find nothing to eat.

At the end of the night look again at stitches, rings, handles. Note what suffered. A fire prop is not forever: it is an object that lives next to flame, and you retire it when it starts to tell you so.

Before you leave, one last walk-around

• You can do the move cold, or a teacher is with you.
• You asked what is allowed in that place, and you have a plan if something goes wrong.
• There is a safety person, a fire blanket, an extinguisher, a kit for burns.
• You are sober, in close-fitting natural fibre.
• The prop is whole: no open edges, no tired rings, no doubtful clips.
• The fuel is for fire work, not for cars and not for the sink. The can is closed and away.
• Tethers, handles and hardware are dry. Nothing is dripping.
• You know how to put it out, and you will stay until there is no ember.

If even one line does not hold, the flame can wait. The Kevlar and the prop will still be there tomorrow. An accident will not. And if you are missing a size, a wick or a builder’s question, start with the fibre or write to sales@playjuggling.com — we would rather answer one extra email than hear about one rushed first burn.