MÁM shows just how transfixing the communion between movement and music can be

Choreographed by Michael Keegan-Dolan, and produced by the dance company Teaċ Daṁsa, MÁM returns to Sadler’s Wells this month, an other-worldly exploration of human connection and rural Irish life.

Last summer, I actually spent two weeks travelling around the Dingle Peninsula, where Teaċ Daṁsa are based. While watching MÁM, I was reminded of why I fell in love with that corner of Ireland. There is a heaviness you feel while there; it’s a country with such a rich, ancient history, and West Kerry especially, is an area full of monastic sites, old oratories, and long forgotten settlements. When there, you really do feel a sense of magic, of old mythology and folklore, and of ancestral tradition. MÁM, conceived and created in West Kerry, captured this feeling for me. The word MÁM, translated from Irish Gaelic, can mean a few different things, but primarily translates to ‘mountain pass’. While visiting the Dingle Peninsula, we drove through An Chonair, or Conor Pass, one of Ireland’s highest mountain passes. It was narrow and treacherous, and as you try to focus on the road, you are also craning your neck to look at the towering glacial rock face above and below you. You feel in danger, but you feel exhilarated and in awe. Watching MÁM felt a bit like that. After all, it was a dance born from a place which is, in areas, isolated and inhabitable, but also stunningly beautiful. MÁM captured this physical vulnerability; it was an performance of pure energy – the twelve dancers chucked themselves across the stage, spinning, twisting, tossing their bodies to and fro, hoping that another would be there to catch them.

For me, MÁM is a wonderfully dark look into rural Irish life and community. It asks, how wild are we, or how wild can we be? The dancers form a representation of a community, a group of people, maybe family, maybe friends, maybe neighbours, who have come together to celebrate, to fight, to mourn, and to love. MÁM covers most bases of human emotion and is unafraid while doing so. A lot of the movement was violent and intense – the dancers stomped their feet and screamed out loud, it was exciting to watch. I have to mention, all dancers were equally impressive, however James Southward really stood out in regards to this; it was hard to look away from him.

The screaming and stomping brings me onto the score of MÁM. Music felt as important as the dancing in this piece, as anchoring the performance was Cormac Begley, a folk musician from West Kerry, who played the concertina shockingly well, while sat centre stage from start to end. Together with the orchestral collective, s t a r g a z e, the score consisted mostly of traditional Irish tunes, however the arrangement was playful, and inserts of jazzy, disjointed rhythms worked really well, weaved into the movements of the dancers. The score was clearly the result of a thought-out, collaborative process, and the way in which the dancers interacted with the musicians was something I’ve never really seen on stage before. It was fun, and full of joy.

The Dance, a film made by acclaimed director Pat Collins, follows the rehearsals of MÁM in the remote Irish county of West Kerry. It is a fiercely true and beautiful account of a magical work process, which had its world premiere at the BFI London Film Festival in 2021, and competed for the acclaimed Grierson Award for best documentary. Sadler’s Wells has made The Dance accessible on their Digital Stage until Friday 3 November 2023. Check it out here.