A Bangarra Dance Theatre production. A DanceHouse and Dancers of Damelahamid presentation. At the Vancouver Playhouse on Friday, October 25. No remaining performances

Rustling leaves, smoking ceremonies, birdsong, and body painting: the animistic and the ritualistic met contemporary movement in Bangarra Dance Theatre’s Vancouver debut on the weekend.

The Australian dance company celebrates the 65,000-year-old culture of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, bringing a flowing stream of vignettes from 30 years of work.

The effect is mesmerizing and mysterious, casting a kind of spell where time becomes fluid. It’s a sensory feast, dazzling in its parched outback colours, one huge backdrop textured with weeds and thick brush. In one number, a group of men hide and leap out from behind scraggly bushes; in another projection looks like a vast, cracked rock face.

Aurally, the score by David Page and Steve Francis (with traditional music by Djakapurra Munyarryun) mixes pulsing percussion, insect and bird sounds, and—crucially—Indigenous spoken word. Like the First Nations languages here, Aboriginal languages were once banned by the colonial government, and are now being reclaimed.

The dance itself is a fascinating fusion of the grounded Indigenous traditions with the fluid finesse of contemporary training. Low, prowling lunges and flexed feet abound, but so does beautiful partner work, as in the opening vignette’s strange and sensual pas de deux between a bird-man and a human woman. One hypnotic piece finds three women crawling low across the darkened stage, bending their limbs like spiders.

Bangarra works with Indigenous elders to make sure its more ceremonial elements are respectful and authentic. Spirit invites the audience into those rituals, particularly through the work of elder Elma Kris—whether she’s rubbing feathers over a woman’s skin in the opening, or sending curlicues of smoke out from two bowls near the end.

There's a generosity to these moments, but in the face of history there's a strong sense of resilience here, too—especially in a transcendent final moment, with a projection that has us looking into the eyes of 65,000 years. It leaves you with the feeling that this ancient culture will live for many millennia more.