Kununurra is on the map because the Ord River runs through the town. Broome is 1300km to the south-west and Darwin 850km north-east. Europeans came because of irrigation and diamonds but the Miriuwung people stay because this is their country.
Circus Oz has come to Kununurra to bring its show to people who would not otherwise have the chance to see it. Since it was established in 1978, the circus has earned a reputation for its irreverence, physicality and larrikin style. A commitment to social justice has also been part of the mix, from its beginnings as a collective based in the Pram Factory in Melbourne.
City audiences usually see the circus perform in a big top — it was a majestic sight on the Esplanade during the Perth International Arts Festival — but the Kununurra show is a stripped-down affair, with dirt underfoot and the sky above. Yet the performers agree that the set — a circle of boab trees — is the most beautiful they have ever appeared in.
About 100 people, many of whom are indigenous children, sit on the ground laughing and gasping as singing stuntman Matt Wilson places more and more pegs on his face, as aerialist Stuart Christie swings elegantly from a rope to the sound of a tolling bell or as strongwoman Melissa Fyfe makes a bridge with her body as blocks of concrete are smashed on her upturned belly.
Circus Oz last travelled to the Kimberley 10 years ago and, according to artistic director Mike Finch, has been planning its return ever since. But the remoteness and the expense of touring there were hindrances.
Finch believes that by coming to this place the performers have also received a gift. The conditions have required a willingness to adapt the show to the requirements of each community, which in some cases have not been discovered until the big red circus truck has rolled into town. “By going into a situation that is so unplanned and unmanaged and exposing them to this . . . it makes them better artists,” Finch says.
The ground is too uneven for the bicycle acts — performer Michael Ling does a tentative circuit on a unicycle — including the end-of-show stunt in which 10 performers hitch a ride on the same bike.
There are other sacrifices, too: the Chinese pole, from which the acrobats teeter precariously, stays in the truck. The weather is deemed too hot and the conditions too dry for fire juggling. The circus semi is parked to the west of the boabs and from the roof a tarp is rigged up to provide shade for the audience and to protect the performers from the glare of the setting sun.
Finch describes the decision to tour the Kimberley as “deeply political”: it allows the performers to become more acquainted with indigenous culture and is also intended as an act of goodwill. But the Kununurra show is unashamedly pitched to the grinning children sitting on the ground. The Kimberley performances, subsidised by Federal funding program Playing Australia, are free.
In Fitzroy Crossing the circus performed on an indoor basketball court and then settled in sleeping bags for a restless night slapping away insects. To thank the performers, a local family put on a traditional dance. At Warmun they enjoyed the hospitality of Josephite nuns and stayed in a spirituality and conference centre.
The circus has also held workshops in circus skills for local children, but Kununurra is the last town on their Kimberley trip and there’s just one afternoon show.
Ethiopian juggler and contortionist Sosina (Sossi) Wogayehu joined Circus Oz five years ago after applying for Australian residency as a refugee after coming to this country with Circus Ethiopia in 1998. For 18 months, while she was on a temporary protection visa, she relied on community support for her food, accommodation and school fees.
Over the past five years, Circus Oz has been an advocate for asylum seekers (it has raised more than $200,000 for asylum seekers and refugees), a commitment that has a personal meaning for Wogayehu . “For me, being in Circus Oz . . . it’s not only about the performances, it’s fulfilling all of the things I want to do,” she says.
Wogayehu says the openness of the children in the Kimberley and the way the older children care for the younger ones remind her of her childhood in Ethiopia. “Coming here, it has expanded my imagination. The culture is so rich, the children are so affectionate,” she says.
A car full of boys arrives while the circus is setting up and they announce that they will perform a traditional dance after the show. When the boys say they can also do tricks, they are asked to demonstrate. Without hesitation or self-consciousness, two of them execute perfect standing somersaults.
Finch believes the laconic, knockabout character the circus has evolved partly reflects the impact of the touring schedule. For a third of the year, the circus performs in Australian capital cities and for a third in regional Australia. “The audience becomes the final member of the creative team,” Finch says. “New jokes and new ideas get added.”
Finch sees the two strands that define the company — its politics and performance style — as complementary and also as typically Australian. “It has always been the role of circus, this street performance aspect that questions authority. There’s deep origins with it — with the jester making fun of the king.”
When the Kununurra show is over, the boys return in traditional dress and, to the sound of a didgeridoo and the human voice, form a line and stamp a dance, the Wanga-ga, on the earth. A brief performance but full of passion and intent. The dance, a gesture of welcome and thanks, is also a glimpse into another world.
This time it is the clowns and acrobats, the jugglers and musicians who clap and smile, grateful for what they have been allowed to share.
KATHERINE KIZILO and THE SYDNEY MORNING HERALD