In partnership with WOMADelaide Festival
I've been to Adelaide many times in my life – often to make the pilgrimage back at Christmas or Greek Easter to visit family who live smattered around the rural outskirts of South Australia's capital city. But this was my first time visiting during what locals have dubbed "Mad March" – a calendar month each year that coincides with Adelaide Festival, the Fringe and WOMADelaide. Despite my numerous previous visits to the area, the atmosphere was decidedly more intoxicating this time around. Maybe it had something to do with the endless street markets and throngs of people – young and old – who cavorted around the city in search of shows, food and trinkets. But mostly I was fascinated with the sense of camaraderie and community present on the grounds of the Botanic Gardens, which played host to this year's 24th edition of WOMADelaide.
Since 1992, the festival has evolved around its original ethos of celebrating cultural diversity, promoting global understanding, and fostering environmental sustainability. And as someone who has spent a more-than-ample amount of time attending festivals all around Australia throughout the last decade or so – I have to commend the team for putting together one of the most thoughtful, well-curated and culturally enriching experiences I've had to date.
My trip started out on a balmy Friday afternoon, landing in Adelaide and heading into a smart and well-equipped little apartment at Quest on Franklin in the city's centre. After hunting down some lunch (I ended up at the hidden gem that is Hummus Hustle – found in a little laneway astride Rundle Mall), I hitched a ride on the artist shuttle to the WOMAD grounds and quickly found myself in an oasis of rolling green grass and leafy trees (up against which a growing encampment of families had parked themselves with picnic blankets, folding chairs and Tupperware containing assortment of homemade sushi and sandwiches).
Friday's festivities kicked off with a warm Welcome to Country performed by Jamie Goldsmith and Taikurtinna – Goldsmith taking the time to translate many of the region's traditional names and impart a deeper understanding of the lands on which WOMAD was taking place. Backstage, another welcome was conveyed by festival director Ian Scobie, who reiterated that it was a village that put together the weekend's festivities, and who finished with a poignant Tim Winton quote "It's not us and them... It's us and us and us."
Those words rung in my ears as I began to traipse the grounds – finding myself ducking between tents housing Osadía – a street theatre company from Barcelona that performs audacious 'live hair art' on volunteer audience members – and La Perla – a trio of Columbian women inspired by traditional sounds, gaita flutes, drums and sung dances. I finished my evening by bearing witness to Roberto Fonseca – one of the members of the iconic Cuban jazz ensemble Buena Vista Social Club take over the festival's Taste The World stage.
After a night of much-needed rest, I headed back to the festival with renewed vigour. Through the day, I spent my time perusing the 'Womarket' stalls – tempted by a shiatsu massage, but ultimately drawn into the multiple vintage sellers who were slinging hand-painted leather boots, vintage French briefs, beaded bags and blown-glass vases. Had I not had the night ahead of me, I may found myself investing in more than one of these myself.
After parking myself on the grass in front of the Foundation Stage – I found myself tuning into Japanese hip-hop pioneers Kojoe and Hikaru Tanaka, who had paired up with the Australian Art Orchestra to reimagine the work of Aaron Choulai’s critically acclaimed 2020 album Raw Denshi. The fusion was a petri dish of bilingual rapping and orchestral improvisation – a coming together like no other.
After a quick dinner and a drink – and plenty more people watching beside each stage – it was finally time for the inimitable Grace Jones to take us home. The anticipation for Jones' set was palpable. A dark field full of cheers and hoots met the music legend as she took to the stage, working her way through an essential back catalogue of music. Of course, no Jones show would be complete without at least a few outfit changes – a from the moment she stepped on stage in a billowing leather trench coat and pleated sculptural head piece, she had the crowd's heart. And when she reappeared after a few songs in an iridescent, glittering vest, the rest of the night seemed to float away from us.
