IN CONVERSATION WITH: Monsieur Chevalier

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Monsieur Chevalier, Artistic Director of the Ballet National Folklorique du Luxembourg.

The Great Chevalier’ is on for one night only at The Place Theatre, London. Tickets here.


Monsieur Chevalier, how do you balance your devotion to national folklore with your evident appetite for shaping the very myths that sustain it?

‘Myth’ can be a very loaded term, as it can imply that there is no empirical truth contained within. Your comment aside, I have never seen a contradiction between devotion and authorship. Folklore, if it is truly alive, is not a dusty museum artefact – we are not in Liechtenstein! – she is a living organism.

One must tend to her, but also mediate, refine, and at times provoke into new forms. My responsibility as Artistic Director of the National Ballet Folklorique du Luxembourg is not only to preserve what we have inherited, but to ensure that it continues to speak with urgency to our current situation. Here is where the world meets Luxembourg and I accept this burden without hesitation.

You speak often of “ferocious lyricism”—is that something you discovered within yourself, or something you’ve carefully cultivated as part of your legend?

“Ferocious lyricism” was first observed in me, not declared by me, though of course I embody this quality absolutely. As a child, I was noticed by a revered teacher dancing in the Place de la République of my hometown of Arles. I moved instinctively; there was no method, no self-conscious construction. I have never been so happy and so free as I was in that moment. Over time, I have disciplined that instinct and sharpened it like a blade. This volcanic freedom of creativity has always been as natural to me as oxygen, whether it is through dance, my rock bands or my vineyard. The same spirit bursts forth.

To what extent is the Ballet National Folklorique du Luxembourg a reflection of cultural truth, and to what extent is it a vehicle for your own authorship of history?

Cultural truth is never singular, but it is absolute. What we present at the Ballet National Folklorique du Luxembourg is a pure articulation among many possible, and inferior, readings of our shared cultural experiences. It is rooted – staunchly – in tradition; as a means to show the people of Luxembourg, and beyond, the power of our origins and the confidence it gives us as we navigate the world. I do not insult my audience with neutrality. Authorship is inevitable; the question is whether one exercises it consciously and rigorously. I do.

Your origin story has the quality of myth—do you believe great artistic leadership requires a certain degree of fiction to be fully realised?

People always say that I am a very private person, but I am not! Come to my winter schloss in Bavaria, and I will gladly throw open my doors and introduce you to my world-famous pigeons! This is a little-known fact about me, actually, I breed a pigeon of my own design – the Pigeon Crinolé Impérial – a beautiful, white bird with the long mane of a horse. I digress. Folklore is a form of coherence and truth. Myth and fiction are a sin. I reject fiction absolutely. What we are creating here is real. When I come to London and perform the world-famous Pigeon Dance at The Place, this will be, for those who see it, among the most truthful experiences of their lives. Great artistic leadership does not require fiction, it requires clarity, narrative and truth – something that can be grasped, repeated, and believed in. Without that, authority and strength evaporate.

How do you respond to those who see your work as a form of propaganda, albeit a beautifully choreographed one?

I am concerned by these questions now – we are entering some troubling territory. The word “propaganda” is often used when people encounter a conviction they do not share. It suggests lies. We are back to the word ‘fiction’! My work is unapologetically assertive in its aesthetic and its values. It proposes a vision of cultural identity that is disciplined, embodied, and above all truthful. Now, if this is perceived as persuasive, even forceful, I accept that characterisation – but I reject the implication that persuasion is inherently suspect. Picasso said; ‘I do not seek – I find’. The truth of the work already exists; my job is to simply translate.

In a world increasingly sceptical of authority, what makes audiences still want to believe in figures like you?

I disagree with this statement completely. In fact, we see all over the world a yearning for structure, order and discipline. Scepticism, of endless questions and criticism, is what has led us to this moment of crisis. Audiences want clarity, rigour, and to learn from those at the apex of artistic power. I do not ask to be believed in as an individual, I am merely a vessel for work that reflects heritage, continuance, and necessity. When that is achieved, belief follows – not as an act of submission, but as a recognition that something has been realised with total commitment. Nothing less is acceptable.

REVIEW: Matthew Bourne’s The Red Shoes


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A exquisite production exploring the challenges of artistry and celebrating the joy of dance


Something very special happens when an artist decides to explore a story about their own craft. It often means that the story is told with heart, passion, and nuance, and that’s one of the things that makes Matthew Bourne’s telling of The Red Shoes so mesmerising – one of the many things. This is a show about what it takes to be an artist, and what it takes from those who must create.

Matthew Bourne is known as a visionary in modern ballet, so it’s no surprise that this production features some truly spectacular choreography. It will also come as no surprise that the dancing itself is superb, as Bourne’s company New Adventures seems to have some of the finest young dancers an audience is likely to see. Cordelia Braithwaite, whose dancing is beautifully delicate and yet powerful, plays the rising star, torn between the love of a struggling composer and success as a ballerina. While the entire company is exquisite, a special mention is due (as is becoming increasingly the case in New Adventures productions) to Jackson Fisch, who moves with such grace, precision, and character specificity as to be simultaneously chameleon and unmistakable. 

Bernard Herrmann’s music, orchestrated by Terry Davies, is rich, textured, and powerful storytelling all on its own. Were the visuals not so spectacular, one might even be tempted to close their eyes and focus on the swells and detailed arrangements (listen out for the harp – under-utilised in most orchestras and put to incredible effect here). 

The production is simple, realistic and stylish, as are the costumes. A spinning curtained proscenium arch is used to separate the dancer’s experience onstage from the chaos that occurs behind it. The story is told clearly, with immense feeling and a focus on the pure joy of ballet.

While this is a story that explores the highs and lows of creativity, the result is a show that wholly celebrates the art of dance. As the artists perform the challenging choreography with soul and passion, the challenge for the audience is not to grin with glee.

The Red Shoes is at Festival Theatre until 18th April 2026.

REVIEW: Three60 World’s Evolution


Rating: 3 out of 5.

A highly skilled and thrilling dance showcase that struggles greatly to deliver on its storytelling promises.


After its initial Glasgow showcase in 2022 and its reimagining in 2025, Scottish Street Dance troupe Three60 is now taking “World’s Evolution” on tour. This dance fusion show promises multiple styles of dance as well as a story that follows the journey of humanity. But does it succeed in this mission? It’s a mixed bag.

There is no denying the ability of these performers. From popping, krumping and tutting, to African and Caribbean dance, the technique is off the charts here. This show is stuffed with styles, and the group does a great job at alternating the pace and energy of the show as these styles fluctuate. Performances here are stronger when the group performs as a collective. Earlier sections of the show relied on duets, solos or disconnected sequences, where the group feels more like performers running in and out of scenes as opposed to a collective telling a story together. These sections are still strong, but the final three songs pull together some fantastic footwork and synchronicity that feels like the shows cherry on top. In part this felt like a wonderful finale, but it also, in part, felt like a missing component only realised in the last ten to fifteen minutes. 

The show was structured into a series of episodes, krump heavy nearer the beginning and through the middle, but with more variation around the edges. While the arrangement of episodes feels somewhat off, the show still succeeds in delivering eye-catching set pieces. This is done through design elements and embodied choreography that discretely communicated new ideas. One performer adopted a mother earth style costume and other performers adopted large duster / trench coats, indicating individuals shrouded by a dystopian existence. On the other hand, performers at one point danced in a party-like setting with intermittent mimed drinking interspersed throughout, indicating a struggle with alcohol and substances. In general, Three60’s use of costume, small props and choreography, as well as lighting choices, communicated plenty about the themes and ideas of World’s Evolution; technology, desire, female solidarity, loneliness, and more. These were expansive episodes, some more successful than others, the most visceral by far being the sequences covering themes of loneliness and female solidarity.

While these dancers are highly skilled and a thrill to watch, and while certain design elements add some meaning to the dances, much of this structure is decidedly communicated through repetitive royalty free footage, voice samples and visual text. This separates up each dance sequence and is a common practice in Hip-Hop showcases. Unfortunately, these video elements and samples do not add anything to that which the choreography communicates readily on its own. Because of this, images of nuclear bombs and ticking clocks, sporadic text reading “Love”, “War”, “Poverty”, and even a distracting voice line from The Dark Knight Rises, feels rather superfluous. 

What “World’s Evolution” promises is a highly technical dance fusion show and a journey through humanity and a story of the world. Indeed, if you are looking for the former, you will be pleased. These performances are highly skilled and choreography does a perfectly good job at communicating its ideas. For the latter, what we instead receive are episodes that embody themes and ideas only. For a dance showcase, this is realistically still quite the accomplishment. But any promised attempt at coherent narrative is unfortunately lost. Perhaps some more focus in the future on using inter-scene video elements in order to lay out a narrative, one which cannot be (and is not already) communicated through the dancers, will help deliver on this promise and ultimately elevate the piece further. 

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Jessica Chiye Warshal and Orson Crane


Choreographed by Boy Blue co-artistic director Kenrick ‘H2O’ Sandy, twenty-one dancers aged 18-25 have been working on a new piece of Hip-Hop dance theatre, created alongside the Roundhouse’s Music Production and Poetry collectives. Project rEVOLUTION premieres at this year’s Roundhouse Three Sixty Festival, celebrating youth culture and honouring 25 years of Boy Blue’s groundbreaking impact across the UK and around the world. We spoke with two of the dancers involved to get the inside scoop….

Orson Crane specialises in Hip-Hop and Breaking dance styles, as well as leading classes and workshops for children. In 2025, he toured the UK as part of the National Youth Dance Company and was awarded Student of the Year at House of Wingz dance training and community centre in Blackpool.

Jessica Chiye Warshal specialises in contemporary dance and street dance (particularly Popping). She has danced since the age of two, relocating from Los Angeles to London to dance professionally 3 years ago and graduating from the MA Dance: Performance programme at London Contemporary Dance School at The Place.


What does it mean to you personally to be part of Boy Blue’s 25-year legacy?

Orson: I applied to be part of Project rEVOLUTION because I wanted the consistency of developing my skills and knowledge within the professional industry. It’s also a way to keep doing what I love, exploring my own movement style through Hip-Hop. I followed Boy Blue on social media for a long time and saw them perform live. Now I have experienced first-hand the work that they put into their craft. Knowing their legacy allows me to see what they are looking for for the future, which helps me want to push more for progress and professionalism.


Jessica: Being a part of Boy Blue during their 25th anniversary has been an incredibly empowering experience for me. Boy Blue is a company which honors the roots and foundations of street dance while innovating what street dance theatre can be. I have been wanting to explore the scene in London so I auditioned for Project rEVOLUTION. Working with Boy Blue, and meeting fellow young professionals my age, it seemed like the perfect opportunity!

And big ups to SoCal (Southern California), feeling very proud to represent my home out here in London.

How does Boy Blue’s community ethos shape the way you approach rehearsals and performance?
Orson: I have been dancing since I was about 8 years old, and my first experience of Boy Blue was touring ‘Gravity’ last year (UK and Berlin). They were NYDC’s guest artistic directors. Working with them allows me to walk into the space with both a professional and an open mindset, and focus on my development in a way that feels sustainable. In Blackpool, I’m part of a crew called House of Wingz (@HouseWingz), where community is also right at the centre of what we do. It gives you a place to be together, and to be yourself.

Jessica: Going into this rehearsal process, I was quite intimidated and unsure what to expect as I was new to working with Boy Blue. However, the family ethos in the studio space made the rehearsal process incredibly supportive. Kenrick, Lara McCabe, and Anmol Kaur, our choreographer and rehearsal directors, are always very open with us about the process, listen to our thoughts, continually check in with what we need to assist us. My fellow cast has built a relationship that’s not competitive but collaborative, creating an environment in which we lift each other up so we can succeed as a team. I feel very grateful for this process, as I will be leaving it with new relationships that will go beyond this single performance! 

What makes the Roundhouse’s 270-degree space an exciting challenge for this show?

Orson: I have not had much experience performing on a 270-degree stage before so I’m excited. The rehearsal process shows the amount of work and patience required of us, we want to make the performance an entertaining experience for the audience. I’m very happy to be performing in the Roundhouse as I have never performed here till now. I’m excited to meet and work with new people as well as being in London again, having performed at Sadler’s Wells last year.

Jessica: I am very excited to be working in Roundhouse’s 270-degree theatre! I personally love an “in the round” set up, as it feels as though I get to perform more intimately with the audience as they are surrounding the performance. It has been interesting in this work to see how we have navigated creating choreography to interact with the entirety of the audience, as well as how sections were formed with circularity in mind to make the most of this stage.

What do you hope young dancers in the audience take away from seeing Boy Blue on stage?
Orson:
Dancing has helped me find my confidence, self-respect, and given me new pathways in life. I hope that this performance lights a spark in young people to keep pushing and chasing what they are wanting or looking for within their passion.

No matter what young people have going on in their lives, dance brings the community together.

Jessica: I hope young dancers who see this production feel inspired to continue to follow their own creative goals and dreams, whether in street dance or outside of it. Even as a professional, I still feel as though I am at the beginning of my journey with dance, and working with Boy Blue has given me new tools, knowledge, and inspiration which will fuel me as an artist. I hope that anyone watching this performance can feel our hope and power as both Boy Blue dancers and creative individuals, and keep pushing towards what they are passionate about in life.

What have you learned from dancing under Kenrick ‘H2O’ Sandy’s choreography?

Orson: Working with Kenrick ‘H2O’ Sandy, is amazing because he is very professional with his work and passion which inspires me. The ways that Boy Blue rehearse and teach, so calm and dedicated, I hope to become just like them one day.

Jessica: Something I admire about Kenrick ‘H2O’ Sandy’s choreography is his dedication not just to creative choreography, but also to the dramaturgy of his performances. Throughout our piece, we explore many different themes and topics relating to different elements of life and eras of street dance. I have appreciated witnessing his integrity to the themes we are exploring and how he develops them, choreographs them, shares them with us, and challenges us to authentically perform them. It’s this type of mindset with choreography which has elevated Boy Blue to such a high status of street dance theatre in the UK, and it’s been an honor to witness and be a part of.

Follow on instagram: @Orson.Crane @ChiyeSeed @BoyBlue_UK @RoundhouseLDN

Celebrating Boy Blue’s 25th anniversary, Project rEVOLUTION is part of Roundhouse Three Sixty Festival. The premiere is on 12 April 2026 at 2.30pm, and will also be the curtain raiser for that evening’s performance of Cycles. Tickets from £5 https://www.roundhouse.org.uk/whats-on/project-revolution/

REVIEW: I Made You a Mixtape


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A high-energy, genre-defying love letter to the 90s celebrating the fleeting intensity of a moment through the unfiltered language of dance.


Audiences know from the very first moment that this will not be a conventional theatre evening. Director and choreographer Christie Lee Manning steps onstage with handmade banners to establish what to expect: ‘I Made You a Mixtape’ is not a play. It is sort of a dance show. And it is definitely not a musical. What unfolds is a 90s dorm-room hangout where nine young women gather for one last, hella good night on the brink of a life-altering change.

The piece is presented by Response Theatre Company, pioneers of a hybrid method blending Meisner acting with movement theatre. The goal is for the performer not to focus on their inner world, but on their fellow performers in the immediate environment. With music as a scene partner, choreography becomes a living script that is never performed quite the same way twice.

The show unravels in episodic scenes, all within a non-stop party atmosphere. Live instruments performing on top of a 90s playlist make the environment incredibly vibrant, with Tom Kirkpatrick and Oliver Davies on guitar and drums. Each track underscores pivotal moments, with the cast rotating the spotlight to portray them through movement. These range from starting a dream job to checking into rehab, from getting married to the looming reality of an expired visa.

The set is a nostalgia wagon, scattered with memorabilia that has certainly taken those of us with a youngish perspective down memory lane. Girl band energy is in order. From 90s chokers to Green Day posters, the aesthetic strikes a chord with those who experienced the turn of the millennium. The ensemble recreates music videos and crafts fun moments in a DIY spirit, rummaging through all the small things inside boxes to dress up and find impromptu microphones. Beer pong with red cups, nineties board games, and old-school camcorders complete the collage, all ready for a choose-your-own 90s adventure.

What’s most striking is how fierce the dancing is. The cast includes Clair Gleave, Jennifer Kehoe, Katrina Lopes, Abbey Devoy, Amy Punter, Alexa Stevens, Lauren O’Sullivan, Maggie Trepanier, and Tatiana Ivanova. Each one brings their unique special sauce to the mix, and their performances are skilled and passionate. While their training is evident and the routines have a clear sense of structure, it is the unrestrained, freestyle energy that proves most infectious. Some command the stage with greater ease, but they are all a joy to watch, and the chemistry as an ensemble sizzles throughout.

Just like at a party, loud music muffles voices, carries laughter, and turns intimate conversations into collective dancing when the first chords of a banger explode from the speakers. The stage always feels alive, and the ensemble holds the space for each other, at times stepping forward as side-kicks during a solo, at times in the background and keeping the hangout atmosphere going.

The emotions showcased throughout the playlist go from joy to heartbreak and back again, sometimes jarringly so, and occasionally the performances verge on emoting. But the raw energy of these moments remains palpable, and the physical response to music and to one another feels immediate.

Participatory moments draw audiences further into the festive mood. A neon-lit crowd wave ripples through the seats to the sound of a soulful anthem you oughta know, while a not-so-random audience member is invited onstage to get a tattoo during Pretty Fly (for a white guy). A final routine brings the sixty-minute performance to a high-energy close, rounding off the experience with a playful, festive feeling.

‘I Made You a Mixtape’ is, at its core, a love letter to the nineties through the lens of friendship and the unfiltered language of the body. It resists easy categorisation, and that is where its strength lies. The show invites audiences to feel rather than define, and to let go to the beating pulse of music, shared memory, and the fleeting intensity of a moment you know won’t last. Come for the nostalgia trip, stay for the dancing.

‘I Made You a Mixtape’ ran at The Cockpit 6th-7th April.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Ekleido

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Ekleido. Ekleido, who took the dance world by storm in 2024, return this year to Breakin’ Convention with Femina, a bold new work celebrating the power of the feminine through their signature fusion of contemporary, club, and street dance styles. Inspired by Janina Ramirez’s Femina, the piece brings together six dancers in a vibrant, electronic-driven world where women and LGBTQIA+ voices reclaim space and power.

Breakin’ Convention runs from 1-3rd May at Sadlers Wells – Tickets here


Femina takes its starting point from Janina Ramirez’s book Femina. What was it about that text that felt urgent enough to turn into a physical, danced response?

Femina was always a piece we were going to create. As two women leading the company and with our involvement in The Ballroom Scene, it felt essential to make a work that celebrated and explored femininity. Reading Janina Ramirez’s book Femina felt just like that—it brought light to all these strong, influential women and queer people in the medieval period. It made us want to research the theme further, both within texts, through research partners, as well as getting into the studio and exploring themes with our dancers. From our research in the studio, we felt it wasn’t necessary to focus quite so literally on medieval women, but instead on an abstract theme of femininity. The feminine is constantly pushing to be seen and heard, and often silenced by the idea of “traditional masculinity.” Janina Ramirez mentioned early on in her book that “femina” was something scribbled on the corners of texts written by women, so less worthy of preservation. Our work Femina unapologetically celebrates femininity, which feels urgent in the current political climate where women’s and LGBTQIA+ rights are still being challenged. We are really excited to be returning to Breakin’ Convention, this time bringing a bigger cast of six dancers to present Femina.

The piece blends contemporary dance with club and street styles like New Way Voguing, Waacking and House. How do you keep those forms authentic while shaping them into a theatrical work?

Authenticity is really important to us when incorporating street and club styles into our work, as these styles were born out of subcultures with rich social and cultural histories. When choreographing, we make very conscious choices on how to incorporate the styles in a way that feels appreciative rather than appropriative by maintaining open dialogue with our dance artists. We ensure authenticity firstly by choosing dancers fully immersed in their respective scenes.

We (Faye and Hannah) have both been involved in The Ballroom Scene for 10 years—walking New Way Voguing—with Faye a part of the House of Revlon and Hannah part of the House of Elle. Roshaan Asare is an active member of the London Waacking Scene and part of ‘London Waacking Movement’, and Rory Clarke is an internationally renowned House dancer and part of ‘IndaHouse’. As Breakin’ Convention celebrates Hip Hop Theatre, it felt important to showcase the street dance influences of our work in their pure form, but only by those who are part of that scene. For example, Faye and Hannah do a New Way Voguing section, Rory does a House solo, and Roshaan does a Waacking solo.

In terms of the ensemble choreography, we blend contemporary dance, New Way, and club dance influences to create a new language rather than presenting, for example, pure Voguing.

You describe Femina as creating “a space in which the feminine rules.” What does that look and feel like on stage, and how do you want audiences to experience that world?

We want the audience to see femininity represented in many ways and through different people. Within the 10-minute version of Femina, we’ve focused mainly on how the movement can represent power, precision, strength, elegance, and rawness through a relentless, almost non-stop number. We hope the audience experiences those feelings vicariously through the performers, alongside the music created by the incredible Stella Mozgawa, which supports that pulsing feeling of power and celebration. Being influenced by club culture, where one feels free to express themselves and get lost in the music, is exactly the world we want our audience to experience while watching Femina.

As leaders with roots in the Ballroom scene, how does that culture influence not just the movement vocabulary, but the values and energy of the piece?

The theme of the work is a celebration of femininity that is not bound to gender norms—this has been directly inspired by our backgrounds in the Ballroom Scene and Club Culture, which hold space for expressions of femininity and masculinity liberated from gender.

It was also important to infuse the essence of Ballroom Scene energy into the music. In our initial conversations with Stella Mozgawa, many examples we sent were classic ballroom tracks like “The Ha Dance” by Masters at Work, “Give It Up” by The Good Men, and Chocolate Puma. The final track Stella created for Femina perfectly captured that energy and created the club atmosphere we were striving for.

The cast bring very distinct styles and lived experiences. How collaborative has the creation process been, and does the choreography grow out of the dancers themselves?

We are very particular with casting, as it’s important that dancers have lived experiences relevant to the theme and that their personal expression in different movement styles is represented.

Our creative process involves sharing our movement language with dancers, combined with a collaborative approach, particularly when creating solos and contact material. With our stellar cast, their varied backgrounds have had a huge influence on our movement vocabulary for this work and beyond. It has been a joy and privilege to share ideas with these world-class artists and find moments where New Way meets Waacking, meets House, meets contemporary, meets gymnastics. Coming from both freestyle and studio-trained backgrounds, we value individuality and self-expression, as well as control and virtuosity, and love to showcase and celebrate the strengths of each artist we work with.

In the current political climate, themes around women’s and LGBTQIA+ rights feel particularly charged. Do you see Femina as protest, celebration, reclamation, or something else entirely?

Femina at first glance feels like a celebration of the feminine; however, much like Balls in The Ballroom Scene, club spaces, or Pride marches, these spaces began as acts of protest and subversion against discrimination, creating spaces to reclaim expressions society denies. With this as a backbone, we see celebration as a form of protest and reclamation.

REVIEW: Deep Azure


Rating: 5 out of 5.

An unforgettable performance powered by a cast that never misses a beat.”


Written by Chadwick Boseman, Deep Azure follows Azure as she attempts to navigate life after the death of her fiancé Deep, killed in an act of racial profiling. The structure moves across time and between the living and the spiritual and reflects the disjointed rhythms of grief itself.

The production’s sense of ensemble is a key highlight. The cast operate cohesively, shifting between roles as actors, dancers and singers. The “Heavenly MCs of Street Knowledge” occupy the heart of the production, their presence commanding and dynamic. Their beatboxing and vocal percussion shape the action, transforming sound into environment: the hum of tension, the rhythm of movement, the pulse of memory. Their singing shifts seamlessly between harmonic passages and percussive bursts, keeping the stage in constant musical motion. Even their movement is a spectacle, stylised and robotic, showcasing extraordinary precision and control.

The MCs first appear in silver-toned outfits that evoke both futurism and a retro, almost 1980s aesthetic, placing them outside of a fixed time. After the interval, they re-emerge in cheerleading uniforms, bringing a heightened sense of rhythm and performative energy, emphasising their role as both narrators and orchestrators of spectacle.

At the core of this chorus are SK Good (Aminita Francis) and SK Evil (Imani Yahshua), who act as its leaders and moral centre. Their performances are assured, vocally and physically anchoring the ensemble. Their costumes consistently mirror one another while remaining distinct from the rest of the cast, visually reinforcing their connection while setting them apart. They function as a contemporary chorus without ever reducing it to simple moral binaries.

The central performances are extraordinary. Selina Jones delivers an embodied portrayal of Azure, capturing the pressures of grief and her own fraught relationship with her body. Jayden Elijah brings a calm, almost ethereal presence to Deep, moving between memory and spirit. Elijah Cook as Tone and Justice Ritchie as Roshad provide compelling counterpoints, contributing to the play’s wider exploration of masculinity and community.

The staging makes full use of the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse. Balconies remain active throughout, with performers observing, singing, and intervening from above, while chandeliers rise and fall to subtly reshape the atmosphere. Candlelight, lit and extinguished by the cast, adds a ritualistic quality that runs through the piece. The set’s silver domes are particularly evocative. Clustered like bubbles along the balconies, they reflect fragmented images of the action, creating a sense of distortion and multiplicity. Onstage, larger domes cut in half become functional objects, reinforcing themes of fragmentation and reconstruction. Above it all, painted images of Boseman offer a resonant tribute.

Performers enter the audience space in often symmetrical patterns, sometimes lighting candles or singing at close range, bringing an immersive quality to the production.

Deep Azure verse-driven, hip-hop-infused storytelling feels like a Shakespearean modern echo exploring human grief, justice, and community with lyricism. From the ensemble to the powerhouse performances, Deep Azure is a masterclass in theatre that is as emotionally devastating as it is exhilarating. 

Deep Azure runs until Saturday 2nd May at Shakespeare’s Globe, London.

REVIEW: Just Enough Madness & Caught Again in the Net of Rebirth


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A baptism of dance, music, and light.


These two performances centring around the theme of motherhood, especially in relation to loss and societal expectations of women, were told through the medium of Indian dance, and both were produced by MILAP, the UK’s leading Indian Arts and Culture company.

The first performance (an excerpt from Gobardhan’s Caught Again in the Net of Rebirth), took a modern street-dance-informed approach to Indian dance. This was reflected in the costumes, which had traditional Indian silhouettes but in a muted colour scheme. The performance was abstract, with the dance reflecting emotions more than a narrative. The piece begins in darkness, with black curtains and liquid-like black flooring, creating a liminal effect like you’ve been transported into a different plane of existence (possibly the subconscious mind of a mother). The music (live singing with prerecorded instrumentals) certainly aided this effect, hypnotically drawing the audience into the symbolic world created by Gobardhan. The bodies of the dancers are abstracted, becoming machinery, weapons, animals, and multiple bodies that move as one. The lighting design emphasises this, creating vivid moments of strength and intimacy (both literal and emotional). What is really fascinating about this piece is that it is made up of several men and only one woman. This is an interesting choice, and is especially potent when two of the male dancers form the shape of a vagina and give birth to another man. Perhaps this is a reflection of how much control that men have over women’s bodies.

The second performance (Ramchandi’s Just Enough Madness) had clearer narrative elements and took an approach that focused on more purely Indian dance. Again, this was reflected through the costuming, this time with the traditional silhouettes being brightly coloured and complemented by cultural makeup and jewellery. In this performance, men are present but are more background players, with the female voice taking centre stage. This is both through the primary mother figure but also through the singing of the grandmother figure, highlighting the generational strain of motherhood.

Ramchandani’s performance was much longer than Gobardhan’s, and honestly, although it was very enjoyable at first, it dragged a lot, especially due to frequent use of repetition. There was a desire for the final release, the moment of breaking free and divulging into madness, but there is only so long that you can stay on the edge of your seat before you fall off it.

A recurring image in the performance was that of fabric and rope. Rope was used symbolically to show the battle that motherhood brings, with the dancers pushing, pulling and tangling with it. Poetry was also a key part of the performance, which, for the most part, beautifully accompanied the dance and music, to show the struggles of motherhood. To quote Ramchandi: ‘Once my womb was a forest alive with light … now I am faded whispers.’

An element that really shone bright in Ramchandi’s performance was the space it allowed for joy and play, with cultural traditions amongst family and community, being placed within the context of the role that women are obliged to play within them. A central theme was pretending to be ok to fit the role of woman and/or mother. This was reflected by the facial movements showing the daily performance that women have to do and the mask they have to wear, as Ramchandi says: ‘Still I smile because isn’t that what mothers do’, which then results in the panicked puppet-like dancing reflecting how women are controlled under patriarchy, as Ramchandi pleads ‘I am no god with arms of plenty’. There is a false end where the woman seems to embrace both the joy and suffering of motherhood and is no longer hiding from either, instead embracing the complexities of motherhood. This would have been a really strong place to end the performance, and yet it went on for much longer than necessary.

Although the themes of motherhood were universal, it would be interesting to know how the experience of someone of the same language/ culture would have experienced the show differently with their gained insight. However, in both performances, the amazing dancing, music, and lighting design conveyed meaning beyond language and culture, to create a vivid exploration of what it is like to be a mother.

‘Just Enough Madness’ and ‘Caught Again in the Net of Rebirth’ were performed as a double bill at the Lowry, Manchester, on Tuesday, 31st March.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Shobana Jeyasingh


We Caliban, the latest work from one of the UK’s most distinctive choreographers Shobana Jeyasingh, is a danced reimagining of Shakespeare’s final play The Tempest through the eyes of Prospero’s ‘monster’. We Caliban is at Sadler’s Wells East from 21 to 23 April, tickets here.


What inspired you to reinterpret The Tempest through Caliban’s perspective in We Caliban?
I had spent a fair bit of time reading The Tempest at university. and was captivated by it. My focus was naturally on Prospero, the lead character. In recent years I caught up with the discourse and writings around Caliban and I was amazed, in retrospect, on how the ill treatment of Caliban by Prospero had totally escaped my attention.  My own connection to Caliban, as a brown person encountering Europe, seemed interesting to explore.

How do your personal experiences as a British Asian woman shape the cultural and political themes in this work?
My grandparents in Sri Lanka and India were very much products of colonial history. They went to schools run by the British, learnt English, changed their clothing habits and adapted to another culture My parents’ immense admiration for the English education system funded my travel to the UK to be a student of English Literature. 

European empire building changed the fortunes of my forefathers as it did Caliban’s.

What was your creative process in translating Shakespeare’s text into a visceral contemporary dance piece?
Reading the play with Caliban in mind is a different experience. My biggest decision was not to perform the whole play but only the scenes that impacted Caliban. Most of these scenes were in reported speech in the original play. Therefore there was less “translating” but more creating anew.

Can you talk about your collaboration with co-dramaturg Uzma Hameed and how it influenced the final production?
It was a wonderful experience working with Uzma, We have very similar life experiences as British Asian women who studied English Lit at uni. The many conversations I had with her were crucial in shaping my engagement with the play. She was also an important ally in researching historical documents which influenced what is seen on stage.

I also worked on a different level with Priyamvada Gopal who is professor of post-colonial studies at Cambridge. She was an invigorating and inspirational woman to talk to. We discussed the play in some depth, especially its post-colonial readings. Her reading lists were influential in how I dealt with The Tempest on stage. Priya had interesting things to say about the play as a parable of power. She helped me read Caliban’s alleged assault on Miranda by pointing me to similar incidents in EM Forster’s Passage To India and Harper’s To Kill a Mocking Bird. These elevated the Tempest incident into an encounter between cultures and races rather than one between two individuals.

How do design elements like video, music and lighting contribute to the storytelling in We Caliban?
Dance, while being the main medium, cannot be the sole one in certain stories. Music, light and video design at times provide the framework within which the dance rests or add additional layers to complete the dramaturgy.  Different media were ‘choreographed’ to narrate different bits of the dramaturgy to complement the dance choreography. For example, Queen Elizabeth I’s letter giving permission for Walter Raleigh to annex non-Christian territories in the New World became part of the audio score. The re- naming of place names by Columbus and other European travellers is dealt with by projections.

What conversations or reflections do you hope audiences will leave with after seeing the piece?
Whether they are familiar with The Tempest or not I hope that they will find We Caliban intriguing, entertaining and enjoyable.  One of dance’s unique qualities is that you communicate in a medium where you don’t need to separate thought from feeling or emotion. I would like We Caliban to engage emotions and sensibilities and, through those, provoke thought.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Rio Barker


We sat down with Rio Barker to chat about English National Ballet’s new production of My First Ballet: Cinderella. Running from 1 – 12 of April at Sadler’s Wells East, tickets are available here.


As a performer, how do you approach telling the story in a way that captivates such young viewers who may be seeing ballet for the very first time? 

    Personally, as a performer I try to make everything as clear and honest as possible. With younger audiences, I think it’s really important to fully commit to the character and exaggerate certain moments that come with it, so the story is easy to follow. I try to focus a lot on the intention behind every movement, making sure it’s not just steps but something they can understand and connect to. It’s about being playful, present, and really believing in the world you’re creating on stage, or you risk the audience not fully believing it either.

    You trained at The Hammond School and have already performed a wide range of classical and contemporary works. How has that training prepared you for performing in a production aimed specifically at young audiences? 

      My training and experience thus far has given me a strong technical base but has also encouraged a lot of versatility and performance quality. I believe this is important for this kind of production where the choreography calls for clarity and dynamics but also nurtures and encourages you to show personality, character and a unique perspective. Being exposed to both classical and contemporary work helped me become adaptable and more aware of how to use my body to communicate different styles and emotions. That’s especially useful when performing for younger audiences, where clarity and expression are just as important as technique.

      You have performed choreography from artists such as Arielle Smith, Andrew McNicol, David Lichine and Marius Petipa. How do those different choreographic influences shape the way you approach your role in My First Ballet: Cinderella

        Working with such a range of choreographers has truly been such a privilege and gift, as it has not only taught me how to adapt quickly and bring different qualities to movement, but it has given me experience on how to best bring to life and handle different characters and their stories. For example, Petipa’s work requires precision and clarity, while contemporary choreographers encourage more freedom and individuality. In My First Ballet: Cinderella, I try to combine those influences – keeping the technique clean while also allowing space for personality and storytelling. In this production, I’m extremely grateful to be performing multiple roles, including ‘The Prince’ and ‘Autumn Fox’, which require very different qualities and internal narratives. The ‘Autumn Fox’ is cunning, sharp, and highly expressive in his movement, while ‘The Prince’ is more grounded, kind, and determined. Both roles are challenging in their own ways, but they allow me to draw on the experience and exposure I’ve gained from my previous training and performances.

        Ballet storytelling relies heavily on movement rather than words. What do you think are the most important tools a dancer has when communicating emotion and narrative to a very young audience? 

        I think clarity and connection are the most important tools. For a young audience, everything needs to feel very clear, so I focus on making my intentions obvious through my movement, facial expressions, and use of the upper body. Connecting closely to the music also really helps, as it guides the emotion and energy of the story. I try to make every detail count, so even small gestures help tell the story and keep the audience engaged. 

        Productions like My First Ballet often serve as a child’s first introduction to dance. What do you hope young audience members take away from seeing the show, and perhaps even from watching you perform on stage?

          I hope they leave feeling inspired and excited, having understood the story, and connected with the characters. If it’s their first experience of ballet, I’d love for it to feel magical but also accessible, so they feel it’s something they can enjoy and maybe even try themselves. If even a few children leave wanting to dance or return to the theatre, that would be really special. I also hope they take away a sense of kindness, courage, and maybe a deeper appreciation for the magic of nature.