Monday, April 13, 1998 | 8:38 a.m.
Roman Tomanov is fidgeting as he is forced to watch himself once more, captured on video.
"I've seen myself a thousand times," he disingenuously protests.
Not that he really minds the attention.
After all, when asked what his favorite thing is to watch at the circus, he quickly replies: "Me!"
The "circus," in this case, was the 22nd annual International Circus Festival, an Olympics for the Big Top crowd which is held annually in Monte Carlo.
And while most children who are taken to the circus bring back only a balloon and a bellyache, 8-year-old Roman Tomanov has returned with something even better.
Roman was the first American in a decade to win the prestigious Silver Clown Award, wowing the crowd, including Prince Rainier and the royal family of Monaco, with his performance and stealing the prize away from Russian and Chinese kids twice his size.
Roman redefines the term "straphanger." Dangling high above the floor from two canvas straps, Roman is able to support his weight and contort his slender body as proficiently as a grown gymnast.
Upon his return, the second-grader at Thorpe Middle School has found himself fielding offers by circus troupes nationwide.
"Roman has been seen by the top people in the world," says Sandy Scheller, who worked with him on choreography. (He's) already world renowned. I don't know if even Roman knows the magnitude of what he is about to embark on."
What Roman does know is what lies in his future -- a future focused on the only thing he has ever known.
His father, Russian-born Valery Tomanov, 40, has toured with Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus and is now a member of the Flying Kaganovitch Trapeze Artists of MGM's "EFX."
Valery faces the dilemma of parents across time, from the fathers of Mozart to Tiger Woods -- do you start your child young and give him a shot at stardom? Or do you let him choose his own role in life but risk letting that edge of starting early go by?
For Tomanov, the choice is clear.
His own children are already performing earlier than he did himself, when at age 17, he joined a circus school in Moscow.
Roman's older brother, Vitaly, 16, a student and excellent gymnast in his own right at Green Valley High School, performs a "Russian bar" routine with his father.
His sister, Marina, 10, does a "Russian Doll" and acrobatic "flying" act, which they did in a competition in Sarasota, Fla. Even their mother, Margarita, 38, is part of the troupe, designing and creating the costumes.
And by the time you read this, Roman will already be embarking on his first full-time job -- performing in a Philadelphia circus for the next three months.
"Valery hopes what we all want -- that our children grow up to be happy and healthy," Scheller explains. "He's provided them an opportunity: You want to perform? Great, here's how to do it.
"I see Roman going on into anything he wants to," she adds. "I don't know if it will be gymnastics. What he knows, he masters, and right now he knows gymnastics. But, I keep cramming down Valery's throat -- (don't) isolate him from being an 8-year-old."
In some ways, Roman is like any child, stroking the family's black cat, Muzic; playing soccer in his free time; bickering with his older sister.
But in other ways, he is experienced beyond his youth. At 8, he has been raised in Moscow, traveled to Europe, and trained in Korea. He is already a seasoned performer, filling in on occasion for acts at the Circus Circus hotel-casino.
Most incongruous with his slender pre-pubescent body are his bulked-up biceps, the arms of an athlete.
"Not bad for a kid," family friend Frank Conti jokes, as the family watches him on the TV screen.
"I'm not a kid," he indignantly replies.
An hour later, Roman looks like he is ready to burst into tears. He stands scowling, as his parents hover over him, adjusting his sparkling headband and primping up his hair.
He softly barks at them. He's tired. He's sore. Perhaps he's not in the mood. Maybe he vants to be alone.
It's hard to say for sure, for his words are in Russian, but the message is unmistakable.
Nevertheless, he dutifully grabs hold of his straps and, with his father's flick of a lever, is up, up and away.
Whatever he may be feeling inside is masked as the automated smile of a natural -- or nurtured -- performer emerges.
The Tomanovs practice every day, scrounging for whatever rehearsal space they can get.
Since the "Go For It Academy" opened near their house four months ago, they have moved their equipment in there, adopting the gymnasium as their main home away from home.
Now, they are on their way to achieving the American dream, obtaining a green card and settling in a brand new home in Green Valley.
"They're just wonderful people, we're very proud to have them in our country," says Congressman John Ensign, whose office stepped in to help Valery and Roman re-enter the country after the Monte Carlo competition, despite a green card mix-up in which the paperwork was forwarded to Morocco instead of Monaco.
Valery certainly knows how to work the system: His broken English makes it hard to speak on his own behalf, but he holds a thick stack of letters of eloquent praise from executives with Ringling Brothers, Cirque du Soleil, Circus Circus, and even the governor.
But for now, Roman has gone about as far as his dad can take him. It is time to seek a teacher who can take him to the next level and give him professional technique, showmanship and choreography.
Circus executives take note: Valery hopes to land Roman and Marina a gig with one of the touring shows of Cirque du Soleil, the creme de la creme for today's circus performers.
After Roman finishes performing in Philadelphia, Valery talks of another job for him in Minneapolis, and competitions in Paris and China.
"My dream," Valery says, "is open a circus school (and) make my children a new act."
And for Roman, for now, his father's dreams will double as his own.
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