Common Sounds: Enter The Void was an evening of performances and installations that responded to the architecture, purpose and current condition of decay of the former Commonwealth Institute, which has lain dormant for the past ten years. To open the festival we were welcomed officially by members of the council, and then brought into the event by what I can only assume were the “last remaining invigilators” (Joseph Young and Peter Faulkner from the NeoFuturist Collective) giving us a tongue-in-cheek formal address.

The former Commonwealth Institute is a beautiful, cavernous building with a large central space that provided the perfect auditorium for the performance pieces. Larger installations, such as an artwork made of the collected junk mail from the past ten years, were positioned in dilapidated rooms and offset by tiny details such as miniature toy soldiers fighting in the gaps between stairs and an abandoned hat hazard-taped to a wall. Oddness was definitely the order of the day, as we decided to explore the corridors and discovered a dusty, sun-drenched room decorated with regal plates; an “exhibitory shrine … maintained in respect for the Queen” according to the programme.

While contemplating the ‘shrine’ a few people were ordered by the ‘invigilators’ to take hold of a ribbon (bureaucratic ‘red tape’ one observer noted) and led away, reappearing in the centre of People In Transit (choreographed by Mari Frogner), a dance piece back in the main auditorium where dancers used each level of the space to carry one another precariously, clash, squeal and spin as the audience milled warily around them. The dance piece certainly got across the experience of the city commute, of having to negotiate unpredictable other bodies on the way, as the dancers confronted the audience with action everywhere, amplified by disconcerting music and soundscaping by Exquisite Corpse.

Forced audience participation was a main feature of the next dance piece, when a few people were called upon to don red boiler suits and practice what looked like tribal war poses before dancers from The London Contemporary Dance School and The Rambert School of Ballet and Comtemporary entered the space in blue boiler suits and began to intimidate the red suits. The Battle (choreographed by Martin Corrie) was a dynamic, exciting, and (to our relief) centrally staged performance, and an impressive effort was made by the brave volunteers to stand up to the professional dancers.

Finally we were led away from the main auditorium and down through an installation of spasmodic dancers interspersed with distorted papier mache limbs and torsos into a dimly lit abandoned basement office. The finale of the evening was staged in a dank ‘underworld’ setting of a disused lecture hall, with Lynchian clarinet players facing the wall and flickering projections on the dimly-lit stage as we entered to take our seats for Orpheus and the Underworld, from the London Contemporary Orchestra and the Rambert Dance Company.

Dance definitely dominated the event, as I was enthralled by the performances and did not feel as free to contemplate static art installations when exciting movement and bizarre noises were competing for my attention. It seemed the event was more a whirlwind of performance than a distinct Act I and Act II as the programme suggested. Having such a wide scope of sensory stimuli and things to explore at your own pace is a great idea, but the combination of being led at some points and then left to your own devices at others meant that it was difficult to know where was the best place to be in order not to miss anything, and I’m certain that there were a few things that I did miss. However the creation of atmosphere and the response to the space was well-delivered in all the pieces that I witnessed, and the eerie sense of decay and eroded dignity was explored beautifully and with a surprising touch of humour.