A man spins round and round: a whirling dervish with one arm raised; a Mensch-Maschine; a clockwork toy. His image is reflected in the Spiegeltent mirrors all around him, so that the lone figure seems to have a ghostly chorus of identical automata. Shadows are cast onto the roof of the tent, another chorus of echoes. A woman enters the space, standing at the other end of the narrow runway that divides the space in two – a witness watching him and watching us, the audience, who are sat in traverse. We are close enough to hear her breathe; to see her eyelids flicker; to note the muscles of her body tightening and relaxing. And then there are four, who burst into a sequence of acrobatic tumbles, twists and turns using the whole length of the ‘catwalk’ staging, the contact mics attached relaying the percussive thuds of feet that hit the heartbeats of the soundtrack. And so we’re off and running into the second ensemble show by young Australian circus company Casus, whose first show Knee Deep has toured extensively worldwide with phenomenal success. In Finding the Silence, the company build on the key qualities of the first piece – top-notch core skills, complicity, tender relationships, a desire to approach equipment and objects on their own terms, without seeking to establish unnecessary or fussy theatrical metaphors – and yet strive to continue the artistic investigation, to step out into brave new worlds. The first radical and brave decision is to play the show on this narrow runway, the audience on both sides breathtakingly close to the leaping, stretching, climbing bodies. I’m astonished to learn afterwards that this, the European premiere of the show, is actually the first time they’ve performed it in traverse – it was presented end-on when premiered earlier this year in Australia. I’m here in Canterbury on the opening night, and the atmosphere is electric – every move seems to be set on a precipice. I’d urge Casus to keep the traverse, terrifying though it is – it feels so wonderfully challenging, so radically different. And there are many great and wonderful risks taken on this precarious performance space – not least a duet between two blindfolded men, aided and abetted by their seeing seconds… Feel the fear and do it anyway could be the leitmotif of this show. The intense physical action throughout is given an oddly dreamlike quality by the show’s soundtrack, a great, organic ocean of sound which pulses with subdued beats and riffs mixed with samples of at-times almost subliminal voices and sounds. Having seen Jerk, the solo show by Casus’ only female member and co-founder, Emma Sarjeant, I can appreciate some affinity between these very different shows: both seem to be playing out the internal conversation and/or subconscious perceptions and emotions of the performers who, despite the intense, visceral earthiness of the work, often have an air of other-worldliness about them. Sometimes we seem to be in the realms of the gods, and at other times firmly on earth. There are recurring images of cradling and supporting – as, for example, in a gorgeous duet between Jesse Scott (who also directs this show) and Lachlan McAulay. Acrobatics, handstands/shoulder stands, and balances or counter-balances of one sort or another are the company’s core skills and there’s plenty of dazzling examples on show here, all thrillingly close so we really feel the force as well as see the fabulous shapes created – for example, in towering three-high stands, walks across heads, and perpetual-motion cartwheels. The piece conjures up associations with Meyerhold’s Biodynamics, the team creating images with their bodies of turning cogs or machine parts that arise and dissolve fluidly. Planks and benches are dragged onto the runway, the human bodies interacting with the objects in ways that seem to make them all one harmonious whole. At one point, the heaped-up pile of wooden junk surprisingly turns itself into a teeterboard. At another, there’s a particularly beautiful handstand-on-a-bench sequence by Emma Serjeant and Casus’ new boy Vincent Van Berkel, who has stepped into the shoes of injured founder member Natano Fa’anano magnificently. Far more than a stand-in, he has carved a niche for himself in the company, and contributed magnificently to Finding the Silence. It’s not all acro – there’s aerial too, including some perfectly fine solo trapeze, and (more interestingly) some imaginative foot-sling work from Jesse. But the best is an ensemble corde lisse sequence that plays on the company’s strengths – the soft and tender gender-challenging relationships between the four of them played out, as bases and flyers merge and swap in a gorgeous tangle of rope, limbs and torsos. What a beautiful meeting of very different bodies these four performers create! There are some wobbles and failed moves – although, perhaps perversely, I love the humanity of these moments. In a show that sets itself up to investigate individual vulnerabilities and inner fears, such moments feel poignant – emotional successes rather than physical failures. I’m pretty sure the circus-savvy audience here at the Spiegeltent agree: they are as quiet as mice throughout, still and attentive, rather than cheering the tricks – there’s almost a collective holding of breath let out in a tumultuous round of applause at the end. (And a nod of appreciation here to the Canterbury Festival, who programmed not only Finding the Silence, but also two other shows by Casus: Emma’s Jerk, and the three-man piece for young audiences, Tolu. Great to see a circus company really embraced and supported in this way.) So, so much to like and admire – yet it is early days. It is stating the obvious to say that a complex circus show this young needs to bed in – particularly if the staging is changed so dramatically. Although in saying this, I’m hoping that it loses none of its dynamism and risk in its settling-in process. There are criticisms, but they are minor. The odd, jodhpur-style patched costumes are a distraction. There are a few transitions that need reworking, and the general frame and shaping of the piece needs a bit of dramaturgical carpentry here and there. But that’s all to be expected at this stage of the process: Casus have a corking new show launched, and the world is their oyster.