IN CONVERSATION WITH: Tamm Reynolds


We sat down with Tamm Reynolds to discuss their latest show, Shooting From Below, playing at the Southbank Centre Thu 9 Apr – Sat 11 Apr 2026. Tickets here.


What did reclaiming authorship over performance traditions imposed on dwarf bodies mean for you in making Shooting From Below?

    The traditions are still imposed now. I still don’t know if I have reclaimed authorship but I feel proud of my approach. It was a painful show to research and make because the history is dark and absurd. This informed my approach. I had to meet the profane obscenities people like me were (and are) forced or coerced into with an earnest curiosity laced with a sick and smart sense of humour. I was told to ignore the bullies in school, to ignore the people who film me or shout abuse at me in the street. Now I’ve made a sparkly and hilarious show where the dark truth about humanity’s desire to dehumanise is impossible to ignore…

    When rage fuels the work, how do you decide when it should combust and when it should stay sharply controlled?

       It’s a learning curve and continues to be. Sometimes I end up mentally not so well and it takes me a moment to notice. My responsible rage barometer is often faulty. I celebrate messy emotions however I no longer revel in rumination. Working with collaborators who have similar (but not the same) lived experiences helps give me an outside eye as well as having someone there who shares the rage enough to ensure it’s compassionately centered. Working with honest caring shitbags and a ton of editing is the key. 

      What do imagined power reversals reveal about the hierarchies audiences usually take for granted?

        Most people forget how inaccessible the world is for many of us. The general non-disabled public have been manipulated into believing it’s been made for them too. The power lies in the body and the mind. We are all going to become disabled or die before receiving the privilege. Hierarchies turn on their head, squirm in their seat when they encounter the abnormal. To be disabled is to defy norms by choice or by force.

        I am keen on showing disabled people or anyone living a discrimination-filled life that we aren’t powerless. We have been subverting normative ways of existing our whole lives, we can exploit the exploiters. They don’t know what we are actually capable of. Society underestimates the pitiful. Weaponising disability is not (always) hot but weaponising ableism is reclamation of power. In a crowd, I can stomp my stilettos on people’s feet and slip out of sight before they spot me…

        How do drag, musical theatre and live art help you turn spectacle into a tool rather than a trap?

          Oh the costumes! The lighting! The timing! The avant gardeness of it all! I think drag and theatre and live art help me make it fun and interesting for myself, which then in turn shows up on stage. Maybe it’s still a trap! Who knows? I think I have control but the whole show explores and demonstrates the strength of the ableist gaze. It holds such a power over me that I’ve spent years making a whole show about it. I’ll make more. I think the whole thing is a trap so I may as well furnish the place. 

          Why is punching upwards through satire more effective for you than pursuing “positive” representation alone?

            The only positive representation is realistic representation. The world is a very dark place and for many of us always has been. It’s impossible for me to shine a light on my life without shadows. The premise of the show is that Midgitte has something quite politically serious to apologise for. Her story up to this point is an attempt to justify her behaviour or at least to rationalise it. Her awful actions and the terrible treatment she’s experienced is based on real life world (and personal) history. Making a delusional dwarf drag queen the villain (or is she?) is a way to give a heart and a ha-ha for the audience to cling to. 

            If Midgittes designed the world, what do you think would most disturb non-dwarf audiences watching this show?

              How many times they’d bump their head, how much adult onset arthritis they’d develop in their 20s, how cold their shins and forearms and ankles are because their clothes don’t fit, how much effort it takes to stand up or sit down, how much space they take up, how often they’d get ignored, deprioritised, met with negativity…unless we were into that sort of thing. How much they’d get ridiculed in popular media, rented out for parties, photographed against their will, exploited for their height. The only time they’d be considered is as self-moving step-ladders.

              IN CONVERSATION WITH: Alexander Whitley

              We sat down for an exclusive interview with Alexander Whitley about Alexander Whitley Dance Company’s new double bill The Rite of Spring / Mirror.

              This show runs from Wednesday 18 – Saturday 21 March 2026.

              Tickets are available at https://www.sadlerswells.com/


              In The Rite of Spring / Mirror, how are you using AI and motion capture to challenge what audiences think dance can express about human agency?

              We’re using motion capture and AI-driven visual systems to place the dancers in dialogue with digital mirror forms—3D avatars and AI-generated imagery that respond to and are shaped by the dancers’ movements.

              Although these digital elements are always rooted in what the performers are doing, they produce variations and reflections of that movement. In a sense, they mimic the dancers, but in ways that can also constrain them. The work explores the tension created by this relationship: a space where human action is continuously mirrored and replicated by technology.

              The narrative reflects an idea explored by Shannon Vallor in The AI Mirror: that AI largely reflects historical data—things humans have already done or imagined—whereas humans are what she calls “auto-fabricators,” constantly imagining and constructing new futures. When we increasingly rely on AI to make decisions for us or define who we are, we risk limiting that imaginative agency.

              Through the choreography and digital environment, the piece stages a series of scenarios in which the human performer interacts with—and gradually becomes more dependent on—something that ultimately reflects only a shallow image of themselves.

              What drew you to reimagining The Rite of Spring at this particular moment in our relationship with technology?

              We’re living through a moment when AI is rapidly transforming how we work, think, and circulate knowledge. It feels like a genuine cultural and societal shift—a kind of rupture.

              There’s also something symbolically powerful about the role technology is beginning to play in the world. Some people speak about AI in almost theological terms—as if it’s replacing older ideas of higher powers that govern our lives. That idea resonates strongly with The Rite of Spring, which centres on a community performing sacrificial dances in relation to forces they believe control their fate.

              Stravinsky’s music is saturated with tension—fear, reverence, and awe—and these emotional currents speak strongly to the kind of uneasy relationship we have with powerful systems that shape our world.

              The original work was also created at a moment of profound social change, just before the First World War, when industrialisation and mechanised warfare were reshaping society. You can hear something of that in the music—the violent rhythms, the almost mechanical drive of the score.

              In that sense, The Rite of Spring already contains a deep anxiety about humanity’s relationship with the technologies shaping its future. Reimagining it through the lens of AI feels like a natural continuation of that conversation.

              How does premiering this work at Sadler’s Wells East influence the scale and ambition of your choreography?

              Knowing the work will premiere at Sadler’s Wells East certainly influences how we think about scale and the design of the production. It’s an exciting context for the piece, and it encourages us to imagine how the choreography and visual world can expand to fill a large theatrical space like this.

              At the same time, our productions tour widely, so the work needs to remain flexible and adaptable across different venue sizes.

              The technology plays an important role in that. Through projection and digital imagery, we’re able to extend the presence of the dancers beyond the physical bodies on stage. Although the cast is relatively small—five dancers, which is modest for a Rite of Spring—the visual systems allow those performers to multiply and expand across the stage space.

              In that sense, the choreography operates on both a human scale and a much larger visual one, allowing the piece to feel expansive while remaining intimate.

              Through Mirror, inspired by The AI Mirror, what questions are you hoping audiences will ask themselves about their own connections with AI?

              It’s such a vast subject that I’m not trying to offer a comprehensive statement about AI. Instead, I hope the piece creates a space where audiences can reflect on their own feelings and relationships with the technology.

              The work approaches the subject through a very human lens—specifically, the dynamics of intimate relationships. It asks what happens when AI enters that space, represented here through digital avatars and imagery generated from the dancers’ movements.

              One of the central questions is how our interactions with technology might be reshaping the way we relate to each other. The piece moves through different emotional states—what begins as playful experimentation with technology gradually becomes something more unsettling.

              But ultimately, there is a hopeful note. Inspired by the conclusion of Vallor’s book, the work suggests that our relationship with these technologies is not predetermined. We still have the agency to shape both how we use them and how they develop.

              At its core, the piece is an attempt to reaffirm the value of human-to-human connection in a world where technologies—particularly AI chatbots—are increasingly designed to mediate or even replace it.

              Since founding Alexander Whitley Dance Company, how has your vision of blending digital technology and live performance evolved?

              Over the twelve years since founding the company, it’s been a long and gradual learning process—often involving learning the hard way. Working with technology in performance can be complex and unpredictable, and many of the insights have come simply from trying things and discovering the challenges along the way.

              You really have to dive in to understand the possibilities and limitations of different technologies. Over time we’ve learned more about the creative affordances of various digital systems and how they can contribute to different stages of the choreographic process.

              While we continue to integrate technology into live performance, our work has increasingly explored how these tools can open up new forms of participation in dance. For example, interactive installations or virtual reality experiences allow audiences to step inside the world of the choreography rather than viewing it from a distance. In some cases, audiences can move within the environment and even influence how the performance unfolds.

              I see these different forms of experience as complementary rather than competitive. Theatre performance, interactive work, and immersive digital formats each offer different ways for people to encounter movement and physical thinking.

              Our work is also shaped by close collaborations—particularly with our creative technologist, Luca Biada. Over time, we’ve built a shared understanding of how these technologies can operate within a performance context and what’s required to integrate them into touring productions. Much of our development happens iteratively over long periods, gradually building the systems and tools needed to achieve the artistic outcomes we’re interested in.

              Mirror is the first project where AI has played such a central role, and we’re still learning what it can offer choreographically—especially in relation to movement itself. It remains a big and open field of exploration.

              When balancing raw physical movement with algorithmic systems on stage, what remains essential to keeping the work emotionally human?

              My starting point has always been the physicality of dance. That raw human presence is fundamental, and it acts as an anchor when we introduce technological elements.

              What’s important for me is that the digital systems remain connected to the performers. In our work, the visuals and projections are driven live by the dancers through real-time systems. That means the imagery you see is always rooted in what the performers are doing in the moment.

              If the visuals were pre-recorded, the relationship would be very different—the dancers would effectively be serving the technology. By keeping the interaction live, we create a feedback loop where movement generates visual change and the dancers respond to what they see emerging around them.

              This creates a genuine dialogue between human and machine, which mirrors the kinds of interactions we increasingly have with technologies in everyday life.

              Even though digital systems can represent human bodies or movements, they remain fundamentally different from the experience of seeing a living person move. Presenting those two things side by side allows us to reflect on what makes human presence unique—what it is about watching another body move that resonates with us emotionally.

              That contrast is essential to the work I’m interested in making: exploring what it means to be human in dialogue with the technological systems shaping the world around us.

              REVIEW: Hung Dance’s Push and Pull


              Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

              finely controlled


              Push and Pull by Taiwanese choreographer Lai Hung-chung is a piece intends to explore resilience and connection through an encounter between two dancers, Lee Kuan-ling and Lu Ying-chieh, inspired by the principles of Tai Chi and the physics of force and balance.

              There is a curious object, a moveable “brick” constructed from two tables and two chairs, onstage accompanied by a watery lamp. Although this can be visually suggestive, the set remains unconvincing to the performance’s unfolding dynamics. The opening few minutes feel more like a mime than a dance, conveying a certain atmosphere of suspended horror where one of the performers moves with a cautious alertness, and the other appears as an unseen presence. While it tries to be haunting, it is actually quite playful.

              Initially, Lee Kuan-ling appears the more organic presence on stage, while Lu Ying-chieh carries a distinctly non-human physicality. This asymmetry gradually shifts when Lu grows vitality and momentum, while Lee begins to assume the more object-like presence. 

              What I love about Push and Pull is that the show places its emphasis on the literally physical act of “push and pull”. In this sense it feels almost mechanistic in a positive way. While the power dynamics of pushing and pulling could certainly be interpreted in a more semiotic direction, what strikes me more is the entanglement of two sheer forces. It is a work interested in both “the presence of the body” and “the body being present”.

              However, this is also where, regrettably, Push and Pull does not go deep in that direction. While both dancers, are extremely skilful, Lai’s choreography feels overly refined and perfected, lacking the unfiltered rawness of the body, the lingering traces of friction produced by two confronting bodies, and the impact of that irreducibility. The show thus becomes hyper-symbolic at the cost of its physical vitality. Especially when the soundscape by Kuo Yu, featuring amplified breathing, is already quite visceral, this too finely tuned choreography ultimately feels somewhat disappointing. 

              For a piece so invested in the dynamics of force, the absence of roughness and unpredictability feels like a miss fire. This push and full, in general, exceeds in precision and smoothness.

              REVIEW: Saxophone Dreams with Jess Gillam


              Rating: 4 out of 5.

              An enlightening evening of passionate musicians and contemporary pieces. 


              It is very reassuring to see that seats are being filled due to current talent like Jess Gillam, Ben Glassberg and their orchestral group to celebrate and perform a range of contemporary work. Saxophone Dreams as part of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s New Dimensions concert series was an evening of equally educational and emotionally moving orchestral performance. 

              The evening consisted of seven compositions, starting with Anna Clyne’s Sound and Fury. This was a fiery beginning to the evening, and an engaging listen. Like river rapids, the composition twisted, picking up and losing pace when needed. Off putting notes and frantic playing from strings and woodwind were the highlight of the piece, finalising with a quotation from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. This piece was a gentle introduction into the possibilities of contemporary composition, including script quotations, discordance sounds and pace changes. 

              To follow was a shorter piece, Lyric for Strings by George Walker, which was a compact and multifaceted piece. Performed only by string instruments, where plucking is used to evoke percussion and sections of violin mimicked singing, this was an exhibit of what is possible through reduction and minimalism. Therefore, a fitting piece for the show’s introduction. 

              Glassberg, the orchestra’s conductor, then illuminated the show’s programme: contemporary pieces, many of which inspired by Gillam’s playing and intended for her to play. Then, Gillam joins the Orchestra to perform Dani Howard’s Saxophone Concerto, arranged specifically for Gillam. What followed was a jaunty number that swelled over time, as the saxophone drove the orchestra and accelerated it toward a rise of strings and percussion, opening up into a vast landscape of noise. A fantastic end to the first half. 

              After the intermission, the orchestra started with Entr’acte by Caroline Shaw, which was a delightfully discordant piece. The orchestra performed the piece with a growing ferocity, taking the song’s volume from soft to very loud. Musicians played like cars passing by. Strings attacked slowly, climbing into an entrance and then spattered out with distant plucking. Filled with silence, this was a discomforting and unpredictable piece, but was an exciting welcome back. 

              After this, Jess Gillam rejoined to perform saxophone for The Celtic by Dave Heath and Rant! by John Harle. Starting with The Celtic, this piece contains three movements, with the third and final movement being particularly emotionally moving. The piece tells the story of bustling London life, then a deep yearning, then the beauty of Scotland and London coming together. Funnily enough, the saxophone section moves from disagreement, to agreement, to harmony with the orchestra from movement to movement. This was an extremely well composed piece, and a very personal one, which this orchestra brought to life beautifully. 

              The evening concluded with Rant!, the most technical piece of the evening. Speaking briefly with Gillam after the show, she explained how there is always some anticipation leading up to the performance, much like performing a monologue in a piece of theatre. As for the piece itself, it was an ecstatic performance with apparent western influences. Gillam pulled her parts off with technical brilliance, and by the end the audience was on their feet.

              With Gillam’s technical brilliance, Glassberg’s controlled conducting, and an orchestral group full of talented musicians, each with solos and moments to shine, this was a well-organised evening of contemporary work. Each song was placed in the right way, to introduce, move, celebrate and educate about the wealth of new work out there. 

              Find more work by the Scottish Chamber Orchestra here: https://www.sco.org.uk/

              FEATURE: 2026 Royal Philharmonic Society Awards

              A year of classical music talent poignantly recognised in a spectacular ceremony.


              The Royal Philharmonic Society Awards is a culmination of the year’s classical music talents, ranging from single performers, large-scale compositions and everything in between. The nominee list was so wide-ranging that it’s hard to know how they trimmed it to two hours.  

              The guests looked resplendent, a compilation of metallics, colour and the best accessory of all, anticipation. Rerecorded for BBC3, the event went smoothly as butter, presented by effervescent hosts Georgia Mann and Petroc Trelawny. The awards were presented to their respective winners by RPS Chair Angela Dixon. 

              A core theme throughout the proceedings was the need to nurture seeds of passion for classical music, regardless of background, and to pursue genres and instruments mainstream society often perceives as inaccessible or outdated. The nominees ranged in age, gender, region, disability, financial or professional status, evoking a sense of diversity that felt like galvanisation. Every single award clearly meant the world to everyone who won, but they all spoke of the constant hard work needed, the barriers they face and the village it takes to get them there. 

              A standout moment was the recipient of the Singer award, soprano Louise Adler. She collected her award holding her 2-week-old newborn girl, Robin – an incredibly bold statement to make as she spoke of the troubles self-employed mothers face- she returns to singing next week. Another feminist nod went to trumpeter Matilda Lloyd, who used her speech for Young Artist to dedicate her award to all the women who face barriers in the brass band sector. Scottish organisations did well too, with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra winning the Ensemble Award, and Kirkcaldy Orchestral Society winning the Inspiration Award. 

              Woven into the wonderful atmosphere were performances, in one case by Matilda Lloyd herself. The audience, despite coming from all corners of the UK (and beyond), felt like a catch-up with old friends. Strangers and collaborators alike, bound together by the power of their love of classical music and the genuine force for good it is capable of, in the RPS’s case, since 1813. The fabulous show was rounded off by the blisteringly talented musical polymath Jacob Collier, who won the coveted Gamechanger Award. Previous recipients have been organist Anna Lapwood and conductor Jane Glover. He bounded onto the stage with Steve Irwin energy and yellow Crocs. A multi-Grammy winner, he treated the audience to one of his famous crowd choirs as he conducted us to make beautiful, harmonious choral notes. Given the crowd, he’d picked a very pitch-perfect bunch to perform with. A wonderful finale as he deconstructed classics such as West Side Story’s ” Somewhere ” into a mellifluous melody.

              Winners also included the host venue, Southbank Centre itself, for their Multitudes Series (Series and Events Award). An inspiring pair of winners were Sheffield-based Orchestras for All (Impact Award) and Glyndebourne’s Uprising (Opera and Music Theatre Award). The former focuses on bringing children of all backgrounds into the world of classical music, and the latter created a special opera involving more than 100 children to portray an epic tale of climate change. The meaningful ways in which classical music can bring people together and demonstrate how we feel about the world is evident now more than ever. The Royal Philharmonic Society Awards are a truly poignant recognition of those talents.

              You can read more about the 2026 Royal Philharmonic Society Awards at https://royalphilharmonicsociety.org.uk/rps_today/news/2026-rps-awards-winners-announced

              REVIEW: Turn it Out With Tiler Peck & Friends


              Rating: 5 out of 5.

              An inventive and dazzling love letter to Ballet itself.


              After its sold-out world premiere in New York and a first run at Sadler’s Wells in 2023, Turn It Out with Tiler Peck & Friends returns this March with the same spirit that first sparked it: curiosity, collaboration and an infectious love for dance in all its forms.

              Peck, the magnetic principal of New York City Ballet, has long been recognised as one of the most exciting ballerinas of her generation. But this programme proves her choreographic voice is just as compelling. Turn It Out feels less like a traditional ballet bill and more like a creative gathering: dancers, musicians, choreographers and tap artists all sharing the same stage and language.

              The evening unfolds as a series of distinct works, each with its own energy but all guided by Peck’s restless creativity.

              It opens with The Barre Project, Blake Works II, choreographed by William Forsythe and set to an electronic score by James Blake. The dancers remain anchored to the barre, executing razor-sharp classical movements while Blake’s electronic soundscape hums beneath them. The effect is striking: ballet, usually paired with lush orchestral scores, suddenly feels percussive and almost mechanical. It’s a clever reminder that even the most traditional ballet training can be reimagined.

              A shift in mood arrives with Swift Arrow, a duet by contemporary choreographer Alonzo King. Performed by Peck and her husband, Roman Mejia, the piece carries a quiet intimacy that’s hard to ignore. The score, performed live by jazz pianist Jason Moran, fills the theatre with rich, expressive chords. The choreography responds with equal musicality, at times fluid and sensual, at others testing the edges of balance and momentum.

              Peck’s own choreography comes to the fore in Thousandth Orange, set to music by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Caroline Shaw. With a string quartet and piano performing live on stage, the connection between dancers and musicians becomes almost seamless. Peck describes the piece as “the orange tree,” and the metaphor lands beautifully. Dancers dressed in warm shades of orange seem to grow outward from a shared centre, forming shifting patterns that feel both organic and precise. Shaw’s score moves between harmony and tension, mirrored in choreography that pulses with colour and musicality.

              Then comes the evening’s unexpected highlight: Time Spell. 

              Created with tap innovator Michelle Dorrance and choreographer Jillian Meyers, the piece becomes a joyful collision of ballet and tap. If ballet often floats above the music, tap here creates it, quite literally. The tap dancers become the rhythmic engine of the work while the ballet dancers answer with dazzling precision on pointe.

              The score unfolds through layered vocal improvisations by Aaron Marcellus Sanders and Penelope Wendtlandt. Using looping, their voices gradually build into something almost orchestral. As the music swells, so do the bodies, culminating in lifts that feel almost gravity-defying.

              Throughout the evening, Peck herself remains the gravitational centre. Every movement originates deep within the body, every transition executed with breathtaking speed and control. Movements performed in this way make Peck appear as though she is generating the very music itself.

              Turn It Out with Tiler began as a daily ballet class Peck streamed on Instagram from her parents’ kitchen during the pandemic, connecting dancers around the world when theatres were dark. That same sense of community still pulses on stage. As Peck herself says, the evening is “a love letter to my craft and to the dancers who inspire me.”

              By the end, that love letter is unmistakable. Turn It Out with Tiler Peck & Friends is a vibrant reminder that ballet today is far more than tutus and tiaras. It’s collaborative, inventive and thrillingly alive.

              Turn it Out With Tiler Peck & Friends at Sadler’s Wells Theatre finished its run on the 14th of March 2026. Upcoming Sadlers Wells shows can be found at https://www.sadlerswells.com/whats-on/

              Written by Lucy Howarth

              REVIEW: Shallowspace Cryotech Feverdream


              Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

              an original, insightful and distinctly queer journey into the future


              Shallowspace Cryotech Feverdream, the new Trans Sci-Fi body horror play from Elastic Fantastic is an original, insightful and distinctly queer journey into the future. More specifically, Shallowspace imagines a dystopian future in which a pre-apocalyptic humanity sends twelve individual “shepherds” into the void to float endlessly into eternity in an effort to save mankind from the dreaded third death – the final death visited only after any and all record of your existence has been lost. Written and performed by Callie O’Brien, Shallowspace is a 55-minute provocation on legacy, identity, and individualism. It is also something like a live CAPTCHA test, asking its audience to consider how we recognize and identify what is human. 

              Shallowspace made its London debut at Camden People’s Theatre as part of the SPRINT Festival. Despite the fantastical world of the piece, the set is surprisingly minimal. A white sheet hangs against the back wall, allowing O’Brien’s striking visuals to establish setting and tone. Shallowspace takes place aboard the starship Theseus, home to our protagonist August Shepherd, also played by O’Brien. In addition to frequent and dynamic projections, O’Brien uses just a black stool and two light rods to create the totality of the starship, from a lifelike cryo-pod to the nebulous recesses of August’s memories. Ambiance is brilliantly-achieved, likely thanks to director Mike Dorey. The set lets us know we are in a sterile, scientific environment but the striking colors and visuals add intensity and vibrance to the space, evoking emotions from melancholia to fear. 

              We meet August at a time in the ambiguous future at which point society on earth has collapsed save for its twelve orbiting “contingency plans.” August introduces herself as one of said “contingency plans,” fated to float interminably through time and space, guarding herself and her starship as the sole remaining record of human existence. This existence is housed in The Archive, a single database containing the entirety of human history – mankind’s final, desperate plea to be remembered beyond the grave. Shallowspace opens as August gains consciousness, we can assume, for the hundredth to thousandth time. Her first order of business is to complete her cognition status check, which includes listing five similarities between an orange and an apple.

              Categorization – of ideas, things, people – is an important throughline in Shallowspace. In order to demonstrate accurate cognitive processing and functioning, August must prove her ability to quickly sort items, identify similarities and differences, and organize ideas based on labels. The need to prove sentience by demonstrating the ability to easily categorize the other based on arbitrary definitions is a heightened reflection of our very real social norms. August’s ability to do so breaks down over the course of the play as she comes to understand more elements of her consciousness and starts to question and challenge what she knows of her own existence. In her search for truth and meaning, August discovers the only thing she can be truly sure of is what she knows because she feels it. August’s body is hers alone and knows different than her mind, which hosts the ideas of others. Shallowspace asks us, too, how we know what we know and challenges the idea that all things must be identified and organized in association with each other. It invites us to trust that which we know deep inside over that which we are told or shown about ourselves. 

              As August slowly comes to terms with the nature of her existence and purpose, she comes to understand her physical body as something being used to further a goal outside of herself. She does so in conversation with the disembodied voice of the artificial intelligence controlling the ship, voiced by Ally Haughey. The significance of a physical body is underscored at a pivotal moment when the technology goes wrong and August’s physical body is implicated. The experience of physical pain stands in stark contrast to the gentle intimacy that she associates with the human form. Until this point, she has mourned the voice’s lack of accompanying body as a loss of the singular and human experience of physical touch. 

              While there is no shortage of art being made at this very moment about artificial intelligence as a springboard for questioning “what is human,” Shallowspace manages to avoid the laziest and most gratuitous tropes. There is an interesting moment when August inverts a previously accepted logic. When the disembodied voice first prompts her to list five similarities between an apple and a fruit, August gives the answers we expect: they are both fruits, they are both sweet. By the end of Shallowspace, August is sure that oranges and apples share almost no similarities at all. After all, no two apples are anything alike. 

              This is a play about human nature and destruction, meaning there is an unfortunate synchronicity between themes and events on and off stage. Questions about the nature and future of our species are increasingly relevant with each passing news cycle. During one of her more on-the-nose musings, August wonders how anyone who viewed The Archive could want anything to do with humanity after “seeing what we did to each other.”Luckily, the play is so engrossing that the world outside eventually starts to disappear. 

              In addition to her excellent script, O’Brien delivers an incredible solo performance. Commanding attention and maintaining audience interest alone onstage is no small feat, and O’Brien manages to capture August’s humor, pathos and pain in equal measure. The script is, at times, repetitive, though some amount of monotony is necessary for maximum impact. August also remains unfortunately opaque. Although she is a clear stand-in for her species, we are given enough unique moments and insights into her prior life to want more. 

              Shallowspace examines humanity at a distance – the way you might view earth from outer space. O’Brien peels back the layers of personhood to expose what truly makes something human and what it means to classify the infinitely unique versions of personhood into one collective “humanity.” The phrase WE ARE HUMANITY is repeatedly projected onstage and the play is about nothing less. Shallowspace is a thoroughly engaging directive to liberate us from the oppressive systems and structures that control and define what it is to be human. 

              Shallowspace was a one-night-only engagement at Camden People’s Theatre. Information on its upcoming 2026 Europe Tour can be found at www.elasticfantastic.co.uk/shallowspace/

              REVIEW: Ancient Grease


              Rating: 5 out of 5.

              This is theatre for people who unashamedly love being fun, camp and having a good time.


              Ancient Grease is a concept so simple and so obviously full of potential, it’s a wonder it’s not been done before. Grease, the beloved classic musical, retold and parodied in the setting of Ancient Greece. Perfect idea, no notes. However, although a neat premise, ripe with comedic possibility, it’s also high risk. Grease itself is so ingrained in the public psyche, and the audience needs this version to hit the key beats of Grease that we know and love, while also feeling fresh and original. Well, I’m delighted to report that Ancient Grease does all that and more. 

              Lady Aria Grey’s script is equal parts sharp and silly – perfectly weaving in the lines of Grease that casual viewers will recognise and smile at, as well as the deep cuts Grease devotees will love to hear with her new and original material. The cast then takes this material and makes it sparkle on stage. It feels wrong to single out certain actors when the entire cast played their roles with such dedication, wit and stage presence. However, that said, Phillipa Leadbetter’s Hera (our dear Sandy Olson) is a real gem, who makes use of every moment on stage, taking small moments to new comedic heights. Lucy Penrose as Aphrodite deserves a stand out too – she takes the role of Rizzo, a fan favourite, and makes you fall in love with the character all over again.  

              The score is full of great moments – updating the songs of Grease (in legally different enough ways) to the new premise, and combining with some new numbers, it creates a real atmosphere in the room. The staging structure helps this. As you enter, you have traverse staging, with the main stage in the middle, and the Mount Olympus staging at the head. The audience feels so close to the action, and it creates a real party-esque feeling, as you can see each song radiating joy into the audience opposite you. There’s also a fair bit of audience interaction, which adds to making it feel like a collective experience. 

              This is a love letter to Grease, and you can feel the love present. All the while, it sends it up too, which is what makes this truly great. This is theatre for people who unashamedly love being fun, camp and having a good time. Ancient Grease is the word, and it has most certainly got groove and meaning.

              Ancient Grease is running from 4 March to 30 May at The Vaults in Waterloo—tickets here https://www.thevaults.london/ancient-grease.

              IN CONVERSATION WITH: Shanay Holmes and Daisy Twells


              We sat down with Shanay Holmes and Daisy Twells to chat about their blossoming West End careers.


              You most recently played Nancy in the West End’s Oliver! – what did that role mean to you personally and professionally?

                Personally  it was a realisation of a dream. To be given the opportunity to play an iconic role that is so loved was incredible. Professionally it allowed me to show everyone watching what I bring to the table as an actor and I have been overwhelmed by the love and support from audiences about my portrayal of her. 

                Winning a Black British Theatre Award for Best Female Lead is such an incredible achievement. How did it feel in the moment when your name was called?

                  Euphoric. It is the first award I have ever won for my work as an actor so to be celebrated by my community for my work was very special to me and something I will treasure always. You’re in a room with people I have looked up to my entire life and it felt very life affirming. I poured all of myself into playing Nancy I believe it is the most vulnerable I’ve been on stage so it was everything.

                  Beyond performing, you’re also the co-founder of Musical Con and the West End Musical Brunch. What inspired you to create spaces like these for theatre fans?

                    I love to make people feel good. I like creating things people will love and will bring them joy. All of our events give that to people the mission is to always make people feel seen and celebrated and I think that is one of the most powerful things we can do for each other on a human level so to incorporate that into events and experiences is my greatest joy and is the thing I am most proud of. 

                    With such a busy schedule balancing performing and producing events, how do you protect your voice and your wellbeing?

                      I am strict when it comes to my vocal routine. You have to be sacred with your time when you have your own business. West end performers don’t get enough credit. They are Olympians they train and they perform at a Olympic level. Truly. That takes a lot of discipline and hard work. I love the phrase “Vocal Athlete” as that is what we are. I have a lot of rituals and have worked out a way of looking after myself that is built up from years of experience and things I’ve learned along the way. 

                      For young performers watching your journey and dreaming of a similar path, what advice would you give them about building both a career and their own creative projects?

                        Go for it. Go for it. And believe in it. If you can see it  you can build it.  You really can. I really can’t stress enough how much I believe all young performers must build both career and their own projects. I think it is so important for young actors to know that they have so much at their fingertips. Don’t  wait for some else to say “Yes!” to you whilst you become deflated or discouraged by the rejection this industry comes with go out there and make something for yourself and the other part of the industry won’t feel so all consuming. When you build other projects to pour into creatively and other ideas to focus on you won’t get fixated on auditioning or waiting for your agent to call in the same way you will be pouring into yourself . If you want to write as well as act go for it. If you want to direct or produce or teach go for it. You have nothing to loose only to gain and when your building something aligned to who you are as a person and an actor that in itself is an incredibly powerful thing.


                        You’re about to star in the UK tour of Legally Blonde: The Musical – how are you feeling as opening night approaches?

                          I’m excited and can’t wait for people to see our new interpretation of the show. It feels like a dream come true.

                          You’ve been part of much-loved shows like Heathers and Muriel’s Wedding. How does Legally Blonde compare for you in terms of energy and character?

                            My track in this show feels very similar to Muriel’s Wedding, but it has the same music feel as Heathers as it’s the same composer. It’s very full-out, colourful and high energy. Heather Mac is also very similar to Margot, who I cover for. 

                            Touring can be such a unique experience compared to the West End. What are you most looking forward to about life on the road?

                              I’m looking forward to visiting some venues that I’ve been to before on previous tours, and spending time with the cast, who will become my second family for the next year.

                              You’ve built a really strong musical theatre presence on social media – how has that community supported you throughout your career?

                                They are such wonderful fans and so supportive. I’ve built a community and I’m so grateful for everyone who has joined me, whatever point in my career they have followed me.

                                For young performers who follow you and dream of being on stage one day, what advice would you share with them?

                                  It sounds cliché, but honestly just being your authentic self and unapologetically you. I didn’t know who I was when I was younger and I’m so happy I know who I am now. I’m passionate about musical theatre, and if you don’t live and breathe it then don’t do it as a career, because it’s super hard mentally and requires you to give it your all.

                                  Daisy is represented by BBA Management and is currently starring in the ensemble and covering for Margot in Legally Blonde The Musical UK tour.

                                  IN CONVERSATION WITH: Duo Eunioa


                                  We sat down with Duo Eunioa for a quick chat about their upcoming performances at the Royal Albert Hall. For ticketing and info, please find here and here.


                                  How do poetry and visual art shape the way you listen to each other as a duo, beyond simply influencing repertoire choices?

                                  All art reshapes how we perceive the world, so it inevitably reshapes how we listen to one another. Poetry and visual art don’t just influence our repertoire choices; they shape the quality of our attention. We are both very visual thinkers, and when discovering new music, it often sparks vivid inner imagery (colours, landscapes, gestures…) which we share as a way of finding a shared emotional language. Instead of discussing only dynamics or articulation, we might ask: does this feel like shadow or light? If this melody was a person, how or who would they be? Poetry deepens that dialogue further. We reflect on why certain words move us so profoundly, and then ask how we can create an equally powerful emotional resonance through sound alone.

                                  What does the idea of “eunoia” — beautiful thinking — mean to you in the context of a live performance?

                                  Although eunoia (from ancient Greek) literally translates as “beautiful thinking,” for us it speaks more deeply of connection, about the harmony that arises when people meet with openness and empathy. In performance, it becomes an intention. We aim to create a space where listeners feel safe to experience the music in their own way, and where their reflections, emotions and imagery are welcomed rather than prescribed. It is about inviting presence in a world that so often encourages distraction, and encouraging connection: to ourselves, to one another, and to the moment we are sharing. And for us on stage, it also means granting each other the freedom to be fully authentic: to take risks, to listen generously, and to explore our creativity without fear.

                                  In an intimate morning setting like the Elgar Room, how does the audience’s presence subtly alter your musical dialogue?

                                  Intimate venues have always felt like home to us. In a smaller space, something softens, for performers and listeners alike. The atmosphere becomes less formal, less performative, and more human. We sense breathing, stillness, even subtle shifts in attention, and that awareness inevitably shapes how we play. It feels less like presenting something to an audience and more like experiencing something with them. As performers, we feel that the intimacy of a setting like the Elgar Room invites authenticity. When people feel at ease, the musical dialogue becomes more honest, spontaneous, and connected.

                                  How do you balance inviting close, reflective listening while still allowing space for spontaneity and surprise in performance?

                                  Playing together for five years has given us something invaluable: trust born of time shared. That shared history means we often anticipate one another instinctively. There are moments in rehearsal when one of us does something unexpectedly, and the other anticipates it, as if the thought had already been shared. Because we know each other so deeply, we can take risks safely. With repertoire that has grown familiar over the years, we feel free to play and reshape it differently each time. With new works, there is the thrill of discovery, especially as we’re drawn to music that is rarely performed, unrecorded, or that has been arranged by us. Without a blueprint to follow, we create from a “blank canvas”. Throughout it all, close, reflective listening remains our anchor, the foundation that allows spontaneity to flourish.

                                   What considerations go into shaping a relaxed performance so it remains artistically rich while being genuinely accessible?

                                  For us, “relaxed” never means simplified; it means removing the fear of a “wrong” reaction. We want audiences to know they can move, respond and experience the music in ways that feel natural to them. By welcoming that freedom, we honour the diversity of how people listen and engage. Our work in community settings, from schools to dementia care homes and mental health facilities, has deeply shaped this approach. It has taught us to be adaptable and attentive, sometimes incorporating interactive elements, while still preserving the artistic integrity of the programme. Our spoken introductions remain central in all our performances, relaxed or not, offering context and invitation rather than instruction. We are naturally drawn to shorter pieces rich in imagery and atmosphere, which transcend background or training. In our experience, imagination is universal.

                                   As emerging artists, how do you see interdisciplinary inspiration helping redefine what a classical concert experience can be?

                                  We love drawing inspiration from other disciplines, often designing performances and workshops that weave music with visual art, poetry, and mindfulness. These interdisciplinary elements enrich the experience, opening doors to imagination and emotional reflection. Yet, we are acutely aware of living in a world overflowing with constant input and distraction. Our goal is to slow down, offering audiences the chance to disconnect and be fully present. That’s why we are careful not to overwhelm the music with other forms. Music alone has a profound ability to reach the depths of the soul, and for that, full immersion is essential. Interdisciplinary inspiration becomes a support, not a distraction, guiding the listener toward presence, connection, and the transformative power of sound.