30 November 2023

Dancing on the Edge – Vertical Dance on the Murchison River

The North Face Adventure Grant recipients of 2023 – Emily Lecky, Amelia Poole and Jessica Iles  – set out to cover great distances by foot, and create art through dance on the rock walls surrounding the Murchison River. But when they slowed to the pace of the landscape, the creation came easily.

Words by Emily Lecky

As lifelong dancers, gymnasts, and acrobats, we'd spent countless hours within the confined spaces of studios and theatres, under harsh stage lighting, removed from the natural environment. Then came Covid, forcing a transformation in the way we had to approach our artistic practices. For me, during the lockdowns I found myself training on a HIAB crane in my backyard, working alongside the elements and the natural environment. Inspired by this experience, I saw an opportunity to create my art in collaboration with nature, and re-define my relationship with exploration. Moving away from a desire to conquer a certain distance or height, towards a practice led by curiosity and a deep engagement with the surrounding landscape.

Vertical dance is a unique blend of rock abseiling, aerial acrobatics and dance. It turns choreography on its side, allowing the athletes to turn gravity into a plaything and transform the dynamics of dance. The choreography must adapt and change to reflect the unique characteristics of each rock. The rock becomes not just a canvas for the art, but an active participant in the vertical dance.

I approached Amelia with a phrase she’s become incredibly familiar with over the course of our friendship, “I have an idea, hear me out.” Soon we were scouring Google Maps and The Crag to find the perfect spot – red rock, enough height to dance, an interesting landscape to explore and no crocodiles. The Murchison River Gorge in Kalbarri National Park ticked all the boxes. When we approached Jess with the idea, I don’t think she even paused to draw breath before she said yes.

Armed with harnesses and climbing gear, we boarded a plane to Western Australia. A car rental loaded with 220L+ of water, and a six-hour drive later, we stood at the edge of the Murchison River Gorge in Galena Bridge. Water drops along the route were essential, as the river water was too salty to drink, and a dry winter left us unable to rely on finding freshwater run-offs.

The first stage of the trip was four and a half long days of hiking and rock scrambling. With the weight of vertical dance gear, costumes, camping equipment and three days' worth of water my pack weighed in easily more than half my body weight. Initially, our determination to meet specific distance targets led us to inadvertently push hard against the landscape, trying to get through on sheer willpower alone. We worked harder, not smarter and we paid for this with cuts, bruises, and expending way more energy than we needed to. By the end of the third day, however, a shift occurred. I found myself noticing the small details of the landscape, my mind slowing to the rhythm of the days. I found an effortless flow hiking with the contours of the river.

As we hiked, we witnessed the landscape shifting gradually from expansive riverbanks to the delicate arrangement of pebbles, then imposing boulders, until we found ourselves dwarfed by the sheer grandeur of layered sandstone cliff walls. As we journeyed, we were greeted by black swans who glided gracefully with their cygnets, shy rock wallabies, a couple of snakes basking in the sun, and an emu, slightly startled, became our unlikely companion for a short while.

In the nine days that followed, we got to know a section of the gorge intimately and created our dance. We spent our mornings assessing rocks and cliffs for dancing potential, problem solving the rigging and discussing creative ideas. In the middle of the day temperatures were reaching mid to high thirties in the gorge so we retreated to swim in the river and escape the relentless flies. In the afternoons, we filmed sections of the dance. By the time night fell and the moon rose over the gorge, we gladly crawled into our tents. I went to sleep each night with my heart full of gratitude to be able to dance and create in this magnificent landscape.

 

After the days of hiking with heavy packs and limited water, our bodies were undeniably tired. Jess and Amelia crammed their tight climbing shoes onto feet that were blistered and bloody, and the aerial straps seemed to seek out and bite into every cut and scrape I’d obtained along the way. On the wall, our harnesses dug in on sore muscles and the sun bounced off the rock, burning hot late into the afternoon. And yet, creating came easily. Ideas we never would have been able to construct artificially were inspired and flowed freely from opening our minds to the possibilities of working with the rocks as we found them. The gorge became more than a mere backdrop, but an active participant in the choreography.

A dry winter season accompanied by a heatwave early in the season, an injury in the team, and some access issues on private land prevented us from achieving our original idea of hiking out to the ocean and we ultimately made the call to exit the gorge at Natures Window. Whilst it took some wrangling of my ego to put my disappointment about this aside, it was more important that our exploration left room to be led by our curiosity and engage deeply with the landscape than to simply cover kilometres.

As we hiked out of the gorge, our once white costumes now imbued with red hues of the rocks, we reached a lookout where we could gaze back at the gorge and the path we had taken. I was filled with a profound sense of gratitude for the opportunity to create amidst such a breathtaking landscape.

I am also endlessly grateful to traditional custodians, the Nanda people, who had provided their consent for us to walk on their traditional lands and offered the wisdom that if we looked after country, country would look after us. This advice rang true for us as, time and again, the gorge presented us with new inspiration and pathways each and every time we thought we had hit a dead-end.

Exploration allows us to push the limits of our physical and creative boundaries. The North Face Adventure Grant supports explorers from across Australia and New Zealand with an $8000 cash grant, and $2000 worth of gear, to do just that.

Applications for The North Face Adventure Grant 2024 are now closed. Follow us on Instagram for updates on the grant, and to hear when applications for 2025 open.