The man next to me didn’t even applaud. I couldn’t recommend this show more highly

This is one of the most uncomfortable experiences I’ve had in a theatre. I couldn’t recommend it more. The audience is split in two and seated on bleachers positioned on either side of the small stage. This means that most of us are either at eye level with the performers or looking down rather than up. It also means that we can observe the other half of the audience while they, in turn, can observe us.

The performers arrive suddenly and begin directly engaging with observers through both eye contact and a chaotic choice of words. As the work evolves, it’s impossible to predict what will happen next; there’s improvised music, “ugly dance” and even the application of moisturiser. This is A Quiet Language by Australian Dance Theatre as part of Adelaide Festival. And, across the space of an hour, the dancers and sole musician on stage break down the barrier between audience and artist.

A Quiet Language by Australian Dance TheatreCredit: Morgan Sette

When it finishes, there is a partial standing ovation while the man next to me does not applaud. A Quiet Language is raucous and joyful, yes, but it’s confronting too. By not allowing the remove that normally goes hand-in-hand with performing arts, it reminds you that even as an audience member you are an active participant in the experience. When a performer is staring you dead in the eye, you can’t pretend that the arts are something that happen in some abstract world separate from our own – it underscores that they’re created by actual people, and they’re woven into all of our daily lives.

This year’s Adelaide Festival could have been absolute chaos but, at least the slice of it I saw, didn’t seem impacted by the challenges and tumult faced in the lead-up. Artistic director Ruth Mackenzie departed abruptly after only two years in the role, leading former AD Brett Sheehy to return in an interim capacity and finish programming for the 2025 festival. Former artistic director and co-CEO of Melbourne’s Malthouse Theatre, Matthew Lutton, has since been announced as Mackenzie’s successor.

The opening weekend did what a festival does best; offered up an eclectic range of arts to immerse attendees in both the familiar and the challenging.

Finnish opera Innocence opened the festival in a whirlwind of innovation and harrowing storytelling. Seann Miley Moore once again proved to be a talent to watch in Hedwig and the Angry Inch, which premiered at the festival ahead of an Australian tour. Radical Textiles at the Art Gallery of South Australia takes something often overlooked – fabric, clothing, tapestry – and spotlights its social and political significance (sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly – see: Don Dunstan’s famed pink shorts framed and put on display).

Finnish opera Innocence opened the festival in a whirlwind of innovation and harrowing storytelling.Credit: Tristram Kenton

Krapp’s Last Tape performed by Stephen Rea was highly anticipated and proportionately disappointing. All the pieces were there – an interesting concept by Samuel Beckett, a cleverly designed set, an actor so passionate about the text he recorded the titular tapes years ago in the off chance he would one day play the role– but together, somehow fell flat. Was it insufficiently brought to life? Or, in a world where digital photography and social media and smart devices means that we are constantly met with snippets of our younger selves, perhaps the underlying concept – that we change over time and can be haunted by memories – has grown stale and obvious in the half century since the play was first performed.

But, it wouldn’t be a good festival if every show were easy to like or a sure thing – a program packed with tepid crowd pleasers serves no-one.

One of the most striking moments for me this year was seeing the premiere of Mass Movement – a free event that took place in the early evening in Elder Park. In the hour before it kicked off, the crowd grew rapidly, taking up positions on the lawn, on nearby staircases, along balconies – anywhere that offered a view of the large square of grass marked off for the 1000 dancers who would soon be arriving. Choreographed by Stephanie Lake, Mass Movement brought together different groups of dancers, ranging from hobby through to professional, to perform together in an event that was exactly what the title promised.

On the surface it might seem like spending half an hour watching a battalion of dancers is a gentle diversion before heading back to the real world, but much like A Quiet Language, much like festivals, much like all arts, the truth runs deeper.

Elizabeth Flux travelled to Adelaide as a guest of Adelaide Festival

The Booklist is a weekly newsletter for book lovers from Jason Steger. Get it delivered every Friday.