Compagnie 111 @ Festival Theatre
7:30pm, Thu 26 Feb 2015
I’ll be honest, here: there’s not a lot about Azimut in this post.
Even though I’ve written a few posts where I don’t remember anything about the show, I’m particularly ashamed (in a humorously self-deprecating kind of way) about this one: Azimut was very much a flagship performance of the 2015 Festival, and I was really looking forward to it…
…But you know what I was looking forward to more? A reunion with my Sydney-based Significant Other, who was flying down for the weekend. After some frantic last-minute cleaning, I met her at the airport, we got all dressed up (seriously – she looked gorgeous, and my suit was probably my best clothing purchase ever), and then we went to the Festival Opening Night VIP event in the Festival Centre’s Banquet Room.
And I liberally partook of the bubbly on offer (I’m already a massive fan of Croser, but free Croser? Heaven). And we hobnobbed and chatted and ruined many photos and had fun and caught up with Helen and Sara and Keith and listened to speeches and drank some more and stole some nibbles…
Look, it was a bit of a blur. But then it was time to head in to see Azimut. I’d managed to score us some awesome seats, and the crowd was buzzing, and the lights dropped, and I was excited for the first Festival show of the season, and…
…I dozed through most of the performance. There. That’s the shameful bit.
Here’s what I remember: I remember a dark and almost hazy ambience. I remember eastern-tinged music. I remember people walking on the roof of the performance space. I remember – with my Significant Other’s help – a grid-like scaffolding rising from the stage floor to the roof, up and down which skittered performers in patterns, waves, meticulous movements. I remember a refinement to the presentation that oozed class. I remember wondering, in between periods of darkness probably caused by my eyes shutting, what the hell was going on… wondering whether there was a narrative or not.
But, most of all, I remember the look of wonder on my Significant Other’s face at the end of the performance.
As we exited the Theatre, I had professed my doziness to her; she’d squeezed my hand and given me a kiss, her eyes sparkling. We wandered back to the opening-night party – more free bubbly! – and schmoozed with Geoff and Sorayya and Jane, and watched the launch of Blinc from the windows of Lyrics.
And that’s my story about Azimut. Love, people, bubbles.
— Pete Muller (@festivalfreakAU) February 27, 2015