Expression through performance art has many different shades and creative outlets. As Fringe Fest so colourfully demonstrates, the art of ‘the play’, is a form that balances both human grace, and animal instinct—all lost within the world of Act I through III.
Fringe Fest produced a ‘one-man-band’ gem this year, The Traveller. Pushed out of the seams of writer Daniel Morton’s mind, and orchestrated by film industry veteran, Cecilia Davis, The Traveller, is an intrepid piece that leaves you both terrified of the unseen, as well as drawn towards it.
Max Kashetsky is The Traveller, moving in and out of candlelight, flanked by a voodoo/black magic set. The soundtrack, Max’s own guitar and harmonica, keep the film contained and transition the viewer through the scenes. Rather than choosing a musical score, or relying solely on sound effects, The Traveller produces its own tune that draws the viewer in, instead of distracting them as if cued.
Kashetsky delivers a near flawless, hour long monologue. And although one’s first impression could be bored, the lone lead carries the performance on his back, and captivates you as if his lines were the sacred writings of someone’s journal, nestled in bed with you with a lamp on.
This play could be viewed as being ‘too vague’, but in my opinion, that’s the best part. This play isn’t meant to be a two-dimensional, costume designed, melodrama, but rather an honest and intimate testimony to life on the lone road—which is vague, unprecedented, whimsical.
But in the end, when we all go home—although we are changed; the feelings, the experiences, the tribulations, they remain the same. However, as the cliché so perfectly summarizes travel, it’s about the road that takes you there—so pay attention to Fringe’s The Traveller, because there’s a lot to learn along the way.
