Rear Vision | Vulcana
Image credit: Jacob Morrison. Cover image: Chloe Callistemon
From the company that, despite all of this year’s obstacles, already brought us Collective Capture and Circus Delivery, comes a brand new drive-in circus production.
Sitting in the car waiting for Vulcana Circus’ drive-in circus show Rear Vision to begin, I felt the thrill of being about to witness an entirely new show in an entirely new format. Isolated in our own little bubble, separate from the rest of the audience was a very “2020” feeling indeed, and I think it was the perfect way to witness this show, enabling us to really comprehend its themes.
The car clock strikes 7:30 and a cast of 22 dressed all in white descends upon the carpark, emerging slowly and eerily into the light. Circus bodies start to whirl and weave, paths intertwine and diverge, acrobats congregate and disperse.
Rear Vision was nothing less than incredible, with a repertoire spanning various aerials, group bike, fire-twirling, clowning, and acrobatic feats. I’ve been fortunate to see a few of Vulcana’s other productions and I am always in awe of the performers’ strength, versatility, playfulness and palpable joy in what they do. With such a big cast and a great diversity of acts, it’s impossible to mention it all, but some of the most memorable scenes for me were the hilarious wheelie bin clowning, an impressive and amusing group bike act, and a duo acrobatic scene performed completely (and hygienically) without any hand-to-hand contact.
Image credit: Jacob Morrison
The visual feats were accompanied by the atmospheric musical compositions of Anna Whitaker, and outstanding poetry of Angela Peita, which collectively formed the glue binding together this truly immersive experience. With movement, music, and spoken word, Rear Vision carried me on a retrospective journey throughout all the emotion of the past 12 months; the anxieties, confusion, hope, social isolation, heartbreak, and grief, followed by the childlike glee and joyful optimism that came with the perceived re-opening of my immediate world and re-emergence of live performance.
The show tread gracefully the emotional arc from the trepidation of this year’s beginning, to the desolation and disquietude of its middle, to the elation at its approaching ending, and touched on themes of the pain of seeking human connection in a physically distanced world, the fragility of ‘normality’, and the power of collective action.
What a beautiful, meaningful piece of art about processing the shitshow that 2020 has been. I have to say, this was probably my favourite piece of art from this year about this year, and it is one that I’ll be thinking about for months to come.
Image credit: Jacob Morrison
