Between its opening under Elizabeth I in 1567 and its closure under her namesake in 1984, Chatham Dockyard, on the Medway in Kent, delivered more than 500 of the ships that built the British Empire. These days, it is a vast museum complex and - complete with vast maritime vistas and buildings, a Second World War destroyer and submarine, and a fabulous café to boot - a fascinating place.
It is also, this week, hosting an entirely new site-specific show that is quite unlike anything you're likely to have seen before. Performed in the round, outside but under cover in a vast former ship-building space, Ghost Ships is a choreographic and performative collaboration between Icon Theatre (based in the town of Chatham - who knew?), celebrated hip-hoppers ZooNation and Kathak experts Amina Khayyam Dance Company - and, crucially, more than 150 local people young and old, many of them new to the stage. Its aim? To "rechart" the dockyard's history, "asking who owns our history and what stories should we tell."
If I'm honest, I approached this hugely ambitious, 16-part concoction with total fascination but also a dash of trepidation, fearing perhaps a well-intentioned but slightly leaden hour or two of self-indulgent self-flagellation, in the manner of certain art galleries of late. And certainly, as it ricochets between past and present, countries and continents, it reveals itself to be something of a curate's egg: the "pro" dancing first-rate, the production quite slick in some ways, but so (knowingly) homespun in others you might be watching a school play writ large.
More specifically, I wanted to know which sub-Saharan countries and cultures we were visiting; at times, exactly who was who; precisely what part the British played in the atrocious Bengal famine of 1943. And, taking such pains as it does to tells the remarkable story of Olaudah Equiano and his eventual friendship with slaver-turned-fellow-abolitionist John Newton, it feels like missing a trick not also to acknowledge the West Africa Squadron, the British fleet that so committedly hunted down slave ships after the Slave Trade Act of 1807.
However, I think the latter omission stands out particularly because the show as a whole is so commendably even-handed. There is - unavoidably and importantly - a lot on the slave trade, with some potent, electrifyingly danced evocations of the vile abuse that took place both on land and at sea. But, while crucially addressing the dockyard's chequered past head-on, it makes even this element ultimately a narrative of forward-looking hope. And the piece also takes pains to highlight the craft of the ship-building, the women who made the sails and more, and the centuries-old social aspect of the dockyard (which collapsed miserably when Thatcher closed it), as well as unapologetically and theatrically celebrating its triumphs (HMS Victory was built here).
And my, the dancers are good. You can tell the eight from ZooNation by their preternatural athleticism and attack; the four from Amina Khayyam by their proud, balletic carriage and filigree use of their arms and hands. Especially powerful is the clever, cruel contrast between one exquisite passage of north-Indian Kathak, and - in the context of Bengal, 1943 - that same quartet soon writhing on the floor in torturous, primal agony.
If the show pulls few punches, its dominant spirit is nevertheless one of optimism, its unshakeable warmth of spirit all-conquering. The crowd was rapt throughout. And if "voyage of discovery" is generally something of a dread phrase, I must admit that that, by the end, felt very much what this particular landlubber had been on.
Until Sept 28; thedockyard.co.uk