Azimut Defies Categorisation And Gravity At The Festival Theatre – Adelaide Festival Review

Festival Theatre, Fri Feb 27 Azimut defies categorisation. It is a bold and beautiful piece that quickly has you grappling with the meditative nature of the experience. In one sense it’s a relief to sit back and deal with a spectacle that does not rely on words, but it is difficult to sit and not wonder what it all means. And it is dense with meaning. A combination of acrobatics, mostly slow and measured, modern dance, and illusion, it probes the territory where the individual counts for little, and the organic whole is more important. A scene where a mass of writhing bodies are entwined high above the stage is fascinating. Much of Azimut offers sights and sounds that are surreal, often unintelligible, and mysterious; some wonderful feats of technical illusion punctuate a series of visual interludes that are all striking. The scene where the players climb a grid or illuminated graph at the back of the stage is unforgettable. Reaching for the heavens and coming back down again… over and over. Images of birth and death, the weight of existence, and the possibility of madness are all layered in a sequence that is honestly hard to fathom but beautiful to watch. The soundtrack consists of ancient music and other sounds that approximate music. The lack of any recognisable language and tangible musical clues adds a further layer of mystery to the experience. For me it all represented what humans working together can do if they are stripped of all cultural referents and reduced to the common elements shared by all humanity. Movement. Chanting. And without plot or dialogue we can create great beauty. My suggestion – don’t worry too much about what it means while you are watching it. Enjoy the intriguing visual spectacular and surrender to its meditative nature. The conversation about the meaning of it all can come later. Michael Coghlan Azimut continues at the Festival Theatre, Adelaide Festival Centre until Sun Mar 1. Book at BASS on 131 241 or bass.net.au. Click HERE to purchase your tickets. Image courtesy of Agnes Mellon.