Satisfying a hunger for experience

Contemporary dance, an experimental soundscape, spoken word poetry . . . and travel?

At first glance, it might seem like only a fragile thread could tie these modalities together.

But as double-bill performance Carcass and Ghosts proved last week, the concept of travel extends far beyond boarding a plane to a far-flung destination or driving on an open road.

Because, when you think about it, everything is travel.

Travel is a state of mind that wants to explore and adventure. It is opening our eyes to new ways of seeing things and engaging with art, culture and history. It is a hunger for experience.

The West Australian travel editor Stephen Scourfield made this point when introducing the two showings of Carcass and Ghosts at Old Customs House in Fremantle.

He reminded audience members that they were likely there because of their love of travel and storytelling, and the innovative performance was another medium to spark that sense of intrigue and inspiration — especially if it was their first time viewing contemporary dance in the flesh.

Through his spoken word piece, Stephen transported transfixed listeners through WA’s forgotten ghost towns, conveying not only the expanse of his own wanderings but also the many tales that have infused these places with an otherworldly presence.

The interplay between travel and our emotions was only enhanced through composer Steve Richter’s atmospheric live soundscape, which was ethereal in parts, spine-chilling in others.

And again for Carcass, where acclaimed local dancers Annmarie Clifton-James and Jo Omodei communicated worlds through their movement while Steve (sonically) resurrected a dead piano.

Many of the best travel stories come from the unexpected: those split-second decisions or the giving over to chance.

Across two sold-out nights, guests took a chance on Ghosts and Carcass, not quite knowing what they would encounter but having enough trust to step through the doors into the heritage-listed building anyway.

Some left with the energy of the performers still humming in their veins, others wondering just how Steve managed to elicit so many sounds from a derelict instrument.

Others, like me, went home contemplating our mortality as Stephen’s words echoed in our minds.

Take this line: “We all know the rhythm of life and death and BEING, and being GONE”.

If, as Stephen says, we are all “destined to become a carcass” one day, let this be a call to action to continue to travel and experience and adventure while we still walk this earth.

And, as a team, we hope to continue to offer new points of view — on the page and in person — that ignite your interest.