Category: Dance

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REVIEW: Hung Dance’s Push and Pull

Published on by Ke MengLeave a comment

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: Turn it Out With Tiler Peck & Friends

Published on by lahowarth191 Comment

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: In Bloom

Published on by clemencxLeave a comment

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Sometimes the bravest thing a flower can do is open again.

 In Bloom is a bold, playful and deeply feminine solo performance that blends theatre, dance and physical storytelling. At its heart, it asks a deceptively simple question: what does it mean to bloom again after the wind has forced you shut?

From the moment Louna Palombo steps onto the stage, she proves that one performer is more than enough to fill the space. As a standalone presence she is phenomenal. She is not just portraying a flower – she becomes one. Rooted in her pot at the start of the show, she inhabits the fragile optimism of something growing toward the light. Through voice, posture, breath and movement, she brings a plant to life with startling conviction.

The story unfolds across acts that mirror the rhythm of the seasons: spring, summer, autumn and winter, before returning to a final rebirth in spring. In the beginning, our flower grows quietly on the balcony of an apartment complex. But when summer arrives she is repotted into a garden, a moment of liberation that introduces her to the Wind, a carefree force that blows without consequence and becomes her Mr Big: thrilling, intoxicating and ultimately destructive.

Left alone after the storm, the flower is forced into a period of reflection. The performance cleverly uses the natural cycle of seasons to chart this emotional journey. Spring represents growth, summer is joy and reckless love, autumn signals loss, and winter becomes a time of stillness before renewal.

At several moments in the piece, the flower poses a question that lingers long after the show ends: “What does a flower mean if not given?” Later she asks the more radical counterpart: “What does a flower mean for itself?” These lines crystallise the core of the performance. Flowers are so often symbols offered to others — tokens of love, apology, celebration. But what happens when the flower exists not as a gift, but as something living for itself?

The transitions between the seasons are one of the production’s charming devices as the show pauses briefly as Palombo changes a sign marking the new season, almost like a cinematic title card. With music swelling in the background, the audience can practically picture filmic transitions: leaves swirling for autumn, warm sunlight for summer, icy quiet for winter. It gives the piece a playful theatricality while keeping the storytelling clear and rhythmic.

Physically, Palombo’s performance is extraordinary. She uses every part of her body to embody the flower’s life. Her voice moves through vulnerability, excitement, heartbreak and resilience, while her physicality shifts seamlessly between spoken theatre and bursts of dance. In moments of love with the Wind, Sofia Zaragoza’s choreography expands into fluid contemporary movement, Palombo’s limbs stretching and spiralling as though pulled by invisible currents.

What makes it so compelling is how effortless it appears. Palombo’s control and physical intelligence make the choreography look organic, as if the movement is simply the natural way this flower exists. The audience ends up living vicariously through her and rooting for her to bloom again.

The visual world of the piece is equally thoughtful. The staging transforms the performance space into a small garden: pots, scattered flowers and patches of grass that gradually become part of the action as the story unfolds. Nothing sits idly on stage for long. By the end of the show, the set has been touched, moved, or repurposed, mirroring the flower’s own transformation.

Costume plays a key role in building the character. Palombo wears a soft, ballet-core outfit that suggests the delicate structure of a plant: she is the stem, while a crown of petals sits on her head. Glittering highlighter across her cheeks catches the stage lights like morning dew. The effect is whimsical without tipping into parody, allowing the symbolism to remain playful yet sincere. The petals themselves carry an unmistakable metaphor for femininity, evoking womanhood, sexuality and independence.

If the piece has a flaw, it arrives in its final moments. After such a rich visual and physical journey, the closing explanation of the show’s message feels slightly unnecessary. The metaphor is already clear: a flower reclaiming her ability to open herself again. Especially performed on International Women’s Day, the audience hardly needs the theme spelled out quite so directly.

Still, this is a minor misstep in an otherwise captivating work. In Bloom succeeds because it trusts the power of the body, the stage, and one performer’s ability to transform imagination into reality.

FEATURE: Lynn Seymour- A Trailblazer Remembered

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The event established a thoughtful tone for a week of theatre, film, music and discussion.

On International Women’s Day, the Women’s Voices Arts & Culture Festival opened its programme at the Playhouse Theatre with an evening dedicated to the formidable legacy of Lynn Seymour, a dancer whose dramatic intensity helped reshape narrative ballet in the twentieth century. Positioned at the start of a multi-disciplinary festival celebrating women’s artistic voices, the event established a thoughtful tone for a week of theatre, film, music and discussion.

Seymour, who rose to prominence with The Royal Ballet, built her reputation on performances that prioritised emotional truth over classical composure. A key collaborator of Kenneth MacMillan, she helped usher ballet toward a more psychologically searching form of storytelling. Her interpretations in works such as Romeo and Juliet and Mayerling suggested that beneath the elegant architecture of classical technique lies something more volatile: contradiction, vulnerability and desire.

The evening opened with excerpts from the BBC documentary Lynn Seymour: In a Class of Her Own, filmed at a pivotal moment in Seymour’s life. Shot around the time she was confronting the aftermath of a serious injury at forty, the film captures an artist reflecting on the fragility of the body on which her entire craft depends. Rather than presenting a triumphant portrait, the documentary offers something more revealing: a dancer negotiating uncertainty, resilience and the realities of longevity in an art form that often equates youth with permanence.

Providing context for the programme was Naomi Sorkin, who introduced the evening and situated Seymour’s career within the wider themes of the festival. Her remarks drew attention not only to Seymour’s artistic achievements but also to the broader history of women whose contributions have shaped performance culture, often beyond the spotlight.

Interwoven with the archival material was a live performance by Ellie Young. Young’s interpretation functioned as a bridge between past and present, translating Seymour’s expressive legacy into contemporary movement. The choreography unfolded alongside a beautifully restrained live piano accompaniment, whose delicate phrasing created an intimate dialogue between music and movement.

Across the wider Women’s Voices Arts & Culture Festival, the programme moves fluidly between forms. Theatre sits alongside musical and literary evenings, while conversations with writers and filmmakers examine the craft and politics of storytelling. The festival places women’s creative voices at its centre, allowing different disciplines to speak to one another across the week. Against this broader context, the tribute to Seymour carried particular resonance. The programme quietly demonstrated that her legacy is not preserved in archives alone, but in the way dancers continue to approach character, risk and emotional precision.

The Women’s Voices Arts and Culture Festival runs until the 14th March at the Playground Theatre, London. Tickets here.

REVIEW: Mary, Queen of Scots

Published on by leahjLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

The tale of two iconic figures told through dynamic choreography, a fresh and energetic score, and engaging performances

Anyone who thinks ballet isn’t a vibrant, innovative, and lively part of today’s art world has clearly never seen a Scottish Ballet production. Their current production of Mary, Queen of Scots brings together dynamic choreography, a fresh and energetic score, and engaging performances to create an immensely absorbing show. The ballet explores the complex, fraught relationship between Mary and her cousin, Elizabeth I; the story is viewed through Elizabeth’s memories as she nears the end of her life. Although the story sweeps across several decades of incredibly complex political history, choreographer Sophie Laplane has a gift for communicating stories through dance. Each character was immediately recognisable through their style of movement, and there wasn’t a single dull moment throughout the piece. This level of artistry is especially striking considering that this is Laplane’s first full-length narrative ballet; she’s absolutely one to watch.

The immensely charismatic performances of the entire cast, in tandem with James Bonas’s direction, brought Laplane’s choreography vividly to life. Roseanna Leney was immensely watchable as Mary, bringing real complexity and depth to a controversial historical icon. Elizabeth I was portrayed by two dancers – Charlotta Öfverholm as the queen later in life, and Harvey Littlefield as the young queen at the height of her power. This split casting created the perfect vehicle to explore Elizabeth’s journey through her memories, as the older queen watched, and at times interacted with, her younger self. Öfverholm delivered a raw, powerful performance, ranging from almost grotesque anger in some moments to intense, heartbreaking vulnerability in others, to drained absence at the end of her life. Littlefield was mesmerising as the younger queen; their regal poise was perfectly suited to portray Elizabeth in the larger-than-life political image that she created (sometimes even taking on a literally larger-than-life stance on stilts). Artistic Director Christopher Hampson’s commitment to breaking down gender barriers in ballet is especially meaningful in a show about Elizabeth I and (tangentially), James VI & I, as both rulers led significant cultural shifts in how gender was perceived and performed in early modern England. Evan Loudon and Bruno Micchiardi as two of Mary’s suitors (the English Lord Darnley and the Italian courtier Rizzio) were especially engaging in a brief duet exploring the tension inherent in their shared interest in Mary. Thomas Edwards as Walsingham brought a slick, unsettling energy perfect for this scheming character, as he grows from Elizabeth’s obsequious advisor into a manipulative force to be reckoned with. Underscoring the whole narrative was Kayla-Maree Tarantolo, as ‘Death’ in the form of a jester. She inhabited the role with an eerily cheerful energy, dancing around the characters as a personification of their doom.

The ballet’s new score, composed by Mikael Karlsson and Michael P. Atkinson, was the heartbeat of the show. The music primarily alternated between rhythmic, percussive sections in scenes focusing on Walsingham’s spies or the more formal English courtiers, tense and urgent strings in moments of uncertainty, and swelling passages mixing brass and strings to soundtrack the characters’ most emotional scenes.

The show’s costumes, stage, projections, and lighting each had their moments to shine as well. Elements of Soutra Gilmour’s costume and stage design will feel familiar to anyone aware of her recent work with Jamie Lloyd on productions like Sunset Boulevard and Evita – namely, having the heroine in a stripped-back black outfit, often set against simple monotone backdrops. However, Gilmour’s overall design was wonderfully creative; set pieces were constantly whirled on and off stage, creating a dynamic backdrop perfectly suited to this time-traveling exploration of memory. Through her costuming, Gilmour created a striking, visually cohesive blend between early 20th-century aesthetics and 16th-century historical fashion, creating an overall look reminiscent of an Elizabethan twist on a silent movie. Tarantolo’s performance as Death in a bright green Pierrot-style clown outfit was a particularly defining feature of this cinematographic design, with elements of choreography reminiscent of the Charlie Chaplin era of physical theatre. Projections by Anouar Brissel and lighting by Bonnie Beecher added some truly breathtaking moments of visually rich theatre, using silhouettes and responsive projections to bring even more texture and life to the set.

This production is a brilliant testament to the playful, vital nature of modern ballet – at times surreal, at times intensely human, and always captivating.

REVIEW: Last and First Men

Published on by H HsuLeave a comment

Rating: 2.5 out of 5.

 Tilda Swinton’s voice leads a thought experiment on the future, accompanied by surrealistic movements scored by Neon Dance

Narrated by Tilda Swinton and composed by Jóhann Jóhannsson and Yair Elazar Gotman, and set against the backdrop of Jóhannsson’s film, Neon Dance’s Last and First Men brings together some of the most celebrated names in contemporary performance and design. This contemporary dance work is based on Last and First Men by Olaf Stapledon. The 1930 science fiction novel imagines a future two billion years from now, when the last remaining humans reach back across time to warn our present-day society, urging us to act to ensure the future of the species.

Within the performance space, four distinct “languages” coexist: Swinton’s narration; Jóhannsson and Gotman’s musical score; Jóhannsson’s film; and the live dance itself. Although inspired by the same source material, these languages presented themselves as individual threads rather than a holistic performance in the space, making it especially difficult for the audiences to digest. 

Drawing on the dystopian vision of Stapledon’s novel, the choreography, led by Adrienne Hart and performed by Fukiko Takase, Kelvin Kilonzo and Aoi Nakamura, speaks a physical language that reflects this distant future: surreal, distorted and often animalistic. The movement and costume design together construct a living sculptural installation in space, often opaque in meaning. Comparatively, the voice over and music delivers the clearest narrative. They articulate the conceptual framework in a way that is immediately accessible to a contemporary audience, and thus inevitably dominate the audience’s attention. This clarity, however, takes our attention away from the movements, which are the only live element in the space and arguably the reason audiences attend a performance rather than watch a film. With the live element often abstract and elusive, and the recorded narration exceptionally clear, the experience can feel like trying to follow two parallel strands that do not quite converge.

Jóhannsson’s film does little to resolve this tension. The projected imagery of monumental architecture as human remnants sometimes echoes the dancers’ movements, but it does not bridge the experiential gap between the different elements. Instead, as the backdrop to the stage, it occasionally slips from focus, adding another layer to follow rather than clarifying the whole.

With such a stellar creative team, Last and First Men feels as much an experiment in form as in thought. For audiences unfamiliar with the language of contemporary dance or with Stapledon’s novel, it presents a high threshold for engagement and comprehension, and whether the way the performance is presented best serves the message or the story itself remains a question.

The First and Last Man has just finished its run at the Coronet Theatre.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Divine Tasinda

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We sat down for an exclusive interview with Divine Tasinda, one of the performers, artistic directors and choreographers, and costume designers and makers of World’s Evolution. Pioneering street dance company THREE60 presents the first Scottish Hip-Hop tour to take place in half a decade.

This show is touring from 28th February-23rd April across Scotland – Tickets here.

World’s Evolution is described as a journey from the origins of humanity to the complexities of the modern world, rooted in Africa as a shared motherland. What first sparked the idea to frame a hip-hop theatre piece around this expansive historical and philosophical arc?

Firstly, it was science that sparked the idea. The widely supported understanding that humanity originated in Africa inspired us to frame World’s Evolution around Africa as our shared motherland. As Africans ourselves, there’s always going to be a connection that brings us back to our roots. 10 years ago, through THREE60, I started a platform called AKO which was about identifying African diaspora dance, such as the evolution of movement and dance from dancehall reggaeton to experimental. This is where the depth of my research into my roots began. As an artist, I never felt like I fitted into a lot of productions. For example, I felt like my body moved differently and I didn’t always connect to the work. I felt like my story hadn’t been told yet – the African story hadn’t been told yet – especially not in Scotland, at that time. For me, as an individual, this sparked an interest to ask ‘Where do I come from?’ In my research of African dance, it also led me down the path of science and learning that the earliest human remains were found in East Africa. In a way, this made me think of the evolution of humanity being from Africa – rich histories that deserve a platform to be told, valued, taken care of and given space to. Ultimately this story is our story.

You speak about the work asking audiences: “Can you remember where you come from? Do you know who you are? Do you know where we are going?” How do you translate such big existential questions into choreography without becoming didactic?

The beautiful thing about dance is storytelling. The beautiful thing about Hip-Hop – as a sector – and African Art is that most movements are rooted in storytelling, especially African and traditional dance. A lot of African traditional dances were born from their day-to-day life. For example, how men went to hunt and how women went to fetch water, there’s movement in that. A lot of African dance is very spiritual too, so a lot of movement is embedded in healing practice. For example, there’s one dance called the ‘rain dance’ where a village of people come together to dance and manifest rain. Hip-Hop was created at a time when the African diaspora didn’t feel heard, as they didn’t have space to express themselves. Dance, movement and music has always been used as a form of storytelling – as a way of communicating messages.

THREE60 has spent over a decade championing Street and African Diasporic dance forms in Scotland. How has that ten-year journey shaped this latest iteration of World’s Evolution, particularly as you take it on tour across the country?

World’s Evolution is ultimately a show that brings together different shows that THREE60 has developed over the past 10 years, on our journey as choreographers and directors. There are sections from each of us – the choreographers and directors – that range across themes of empowerment, motherhood, masculinity, darkness, perseverance and hope. World’s Evolution is inspired from our own individual stories; the hard parts, the parts where we had to fight to be heard and seen and the good parts. Regardless of hardships, there is something beautiful and precious about coming together to celebrate the arts and our own personal endeavours within that. THREE60 was born to show the next generation what’s possible, and that everyone deserves an opportunity and everyone is capable.

The piece blends Hip-Hop, krump, popping, and African and Caribbean dance traditions. How do you navigate honouring the cultural roots of these forms while also pushing them into experimental, contemporary theatre spaces?

The ownership comes less from changing the style, and more from taking up and demanding space.

Alongside the performances, the tour includes workshops and engagement classes. For you, what is the relationship between the stage work and the community work — are they separate strands, or part of the same artistic mission?

For THREE60, they are part of the same artistic mission as we are hoping to create more opportunities for upcoming Hip-Hop artists from youth to those who are closer to being professionally considered. For us, when we say community, we are talking about all areas of community. For example, every area we are going to is a community. Scotland is a community. For us the mission doesn’t change. Our mission is to give Hip-Hop the space it deserves, for it to be cherished and for it to be seen as equal across art forms.

THREE60 speaks about dismantling barriers within Scotland’s professional dance landscape. What barriers still need challenging, and how do you hope World’s Evolution contributes to reshaping the future of dance in Scotland?

To break down barriers, there has to be connection to Black people to ensure that the African diaspora and Black communities know that there are opportunities for them here. For example, there are opportunities for them to explore their art and creativity.There have been many crews in Scotland but there hasn’t been many opportunities for large-scale touring of Hip-Hop like with World’s Evolution. It is breaking barriers in bringing together different ages and types of dancers – from emerging artists to experienced professionals – and that each artist is paid. Currently we believe we are the only company in Scotland who is regularly giving paid opportunities to Hip-Hop artists in Scotland, so we hope to inspire generations of Hip-Hop and street dance artists on tour – showing them what is possible.

REVIEW: The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living

Published on by Antonia ConstantinLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.

Julia Lupașcu presents a work that confronts mortality with striking choreographic and theatrical intelligence.

As part of Resolution 26 at The Place, Romanian choreographer Julia Lupașcu presented a work that confronted mortality with striking theatrical intelligence. Drawing on her background across dance and drama, and shaped by her Romanian heritage, Lupașcu crafted a performance where ritual, symbolism and contemporary sensibility intersected. The title unmistakably nodded to Damien Hirst’s iconic meditation on death, yet the provocation here was not rooted in spectacle or shock. Instead, it explored the quieter psychological impossibility at its core: the living mind cannot fully grasp its own absence.

From the opening moment, the stage is saturated in haze, a softer, almost liturgical mist that establishes tone. It reads less as a theatrical device and more as an environment: a liminal threshold where the living seem suspended on the brink of departure. A single candle burns. A mirror remains veiled. The soundscape carries the faint toll of bells, restrained, distant, yet unmistakably funereal. The imagery draws with subtlety on Orthodox ritual, where Christianity and older superstition coexist. The covered mirror, traditionally concealed to prevent the spirit from becoming ensnared between worlds, operates as a powerful visual motif. Its reflection appears distorted, shaped by precise lighting and the black veil that bends and fragments the dancer’s image. The effect  proposes that once the threshold is crossed, the world left behind can no longer contain a stable reflection of the self. Identity, as perceived by the living, becomes unstable and refracted.

Julia’s choreography was delivered with impressive technical clarity. The movement language demanded both control and surrender: grounded sequences dissolving into suspended moments that felt almost involuntary. There was a clever thread of subdued humour too , not slapstick, but the kind born of frustration. The sense of someone being pushed  into performing a catabasis, an unwilling descent to the underworld. It felt human. Relatable. Slightly absurd in the way only existential inevitability can be.

Julia’s timing was impeccable. She allowed tension to sit just long enough before releasing it. And then, gradually, something shifted. The soundtrack and the bells receded. The ambient sorrow thinned. A single cello line emerged live on stage. It was clean and solitary. The urgency drained away. What remained was acceptance. The candle lost its necessity. In a quietly disarming gesture, Julia passed it to someone in the audience. A transfer of light. A release of burden. Death reframed not as spectacle, but as continuity.

The piece resonated not as gothic indulgence but as something strangely wholesome. It didn’t deny fear. It sat with it. And then it gently loosened its grip. This was a thoughtful, technically assured and emotionally intelligent offering.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Clive Lyttle

Published on by Tabitha JamesLeave a comment

We sat down for an exclusive interview with Clive Lyttle, Artistic Director and Founder of Certain Blacks. They return with Black Athena Festival, a cross-disciplinary programme bringing together artists who push beyond conventional art forms.

This festival runs between RichMix and the Place between March and April – Tickets here

How does the Art Ensemble of Chicago’s ethos behind Certain Blacks continue to inform your curatorial and political thinking today?

The ideas I took from The Art Ensemble of Chicago have been about Black political resistance and pride through art, freedom and excellence. We have been lucky enough to work with LT Beauchamp known as Chicago Beau who played on the Art Ensemble of Chicago’s album Certain Blacks, which we are named after, and we also worked with artists form Chicago’s The Association for the Advancement of Creative Musician collective with the Katalyst Conversation. The idea that “Certain Blacks do what they want to”, lyrics from the album, struck me and allowed us to develop our curatorial practice.

What does engaging with Martin Bernal’s Black Athena offer contemporary audiences that more familiar cultural histories do not?

Exploring the idea of alternatives to the current cultural thinking. The festival includes pieces that are based on music and movement and not just the spoken words of Shakespeare or moods cast by Chekov. The festival includes a new commission via Kimpavita Festival in Dakar called Rising Mirrors / Miroirs en ascension / Kitalatala ya ntombua exploring the experiences of Congolese women who refuse to be subdued. The festival also contains the work Graffiti Bodies XV inspired by the work of Jean-Michel Basquiat’s 1981 painting La Hara plus Ronin looking at duel heritage through dance and marital arts. All of these works challenge traditional narratives within debates around culture and the nature of civilisation.

As part of tour partnership with Kimpa Vita in Dakar, I got to visit The Island of Goree off the coast of Senegal. This was a slave island from which my ancestors were shipped across the Atlantic as property. The ideas of “The Enlightenment” are central in allowing the slave trade to depict Black people as “Uncivilised”. Africa was often seen as the dark continent but when you visit, there are thriving countries and civilisations that span thousands of years and this festival has allowed us to touch upon these differing civilisations within Africa and in the case of Ronin, Japan.

How has your background in outdoor events and contemporary circus shaped your ideas around access and who art is for?

Working in Circus and Outdoor arts provides a platform of knowledge non-verbal performance. I’m a musician by practice and have also worked in theatre and dance. Circus allows me to look beyond forms where knowledge of language is important in understanding text-based theatre. When you work with Chekov you’re hearing words and looking for meanings which may be hidden, and you need an understanding of the language it is performed in. However, Circus and Outdoor arts are international. I’ve recently visited Tiawan, Japan and Senegal to see new shows with no understanding of Chinese, Japanese or French (Senegal). Certain Blacks is a member of Circostrada a European network for outdoor arts and circus and this enables us to meet, and work with, artists across Europe and internationally!! However, I’m now determined to improve my very bad French!!

Why is it important for Black Athena Festival to foreground difference rather than consensus in today’s UK cultural landscape?

It is the difference that makes the UK so culturally interesting. Black music and dance is now central to UK life, but we live in a current world of “Reform”, which to me, challenges the notion of being British. I was born in Lewisham Hospital just like the actor Delroy Lindo. This is where my mother worked as a midwife for most of her life and it’s the hospital where she died. We need to champion difference and creativity and showcase what cultural difference has bought to the UK over the past centuries.

What made Dam Van Huynh and Elaine Mitchener’s Graffiti Bodies XV feel central to this edition of the festival?

The work of Dam Van Huynh and Elaine Mitchener are part of the ongoing dialogue of what work can be made by diverse artists and it challenges the ideas of Black Dance, music creation and performance. I saw Van Huynh’s work Moving Eastman at the Barbican last year which highlights the work of composer Julius Eastman. This was shown through music and movement so I wanted to work with the company.

When moving work “from the margins to the mainstream,” how do you avoid losing what makes it radical?

Artists we’ve worked with have resulted in Certain Blacks commissions such as Sadiq Ali’s Tell Me And Crying in the Wilderness – Best Friends have gone on to take centre stage at The Place and Park Theatres. Similarly, Holy Dirt from Thirunarayan Productions, directed by David Glass is a Certain Blacks commission which has just been commissioned by Without Walls and will be at the Brighton Festival shows how the work we support can appear on mainstream stages and festivals and move “from the margins to the mainstream”

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Olga Balakleets

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We sat down for an exclusive interview with Olga Balakleets, founder of Ballet Icons Gala which celebrated its 20th Anniversary.

This gala brings together some of the very best dancers in the business. When you curate the programme, what is the non-negotiable idea

I always want the audience to leave with strong emotions—emotions that can only come from true artistry, not just technical excellence, even when performed by the world’s most amazing dancers. Art without emotion is not truly art. I also believe in learning through performance, which is why presenting rare classical ballet repertoire and discovering new, talented choreographers has become a core mission of the Ballet Icons Gala. Carefully selecting high-quality repertoire for each programme—work that moves the audience emotionally while offering something new to learn—is the result I always aim to achieve.

You bring together artists from very different companies, styles and training backgrounds. What are you actively looking for when deciding which dancers to invite each year?

The Ballet Icons Gala has developed strong relationships with many established stars and principals from the world’s major companies, and it is a pleasure to extend repeated invitations to them year after year. When considering new dancers, I look for both technical and artistic excellence, as well as their personal vision of the repertoire. It is also exciting to invite artists from companies we have not worked with before, and showcasing up-and-coming young talent is becoming increasingly important to us.

How do you balance artistic risk with audience expectation? Is there a piece you’ve programmed that felt like a genuine gamble at the time?

There is usually little risk with the much-loved classical masterpieces, which we include in almost every programme. Our audiences expect them and cannot imagine a gala without pieces like the Black Swan pas de deux, the Le Corsaire pas de deux, or the grand pas de deux from Don Quixote. The risks usually come with contemporary repertoire, as it can sometimes be very subjective. However, we work with either well-established choreographers or emerging ones who have already demonstrated their vision and capability, so it is rarely a true gamble. Over the years, there have been pieces where we waited with curiosity to see the audience’s reaction, such as works by Javier de Frutos or Xenia Wiest. It is also a pleasure to give dancers the opportunity to present their own choreography during our galas. On several occasions, our performing stars, like Giuseppe Piccone and Sergio Bernal, have taken the stage at the Ballet Icons Gala to showcase their choreographic vision. While it may have felt experimental at first, witnessing these new creations has always been a deeply fulfilling experience.

Has your definition of a leading ballet dancer changed since the first edition of the gala and if so, how?

Yes, it has definitely changed. Over the past 20 years, having met so many leading ballet
dancers, I would now define a true leading dancer as someone who combines
professionalism, efficiency, and respect for colleagues and teams with flexibility and
adaptability. Galas are very different from full-length ballet productions, and dancers often need to adjust quickly while still delivering the highest technical and artistic standard, regardless of circumstances. Above all, I want to see a kind and thoughtful human being first in every leading dancer or star, with all the other qualities following naturally.

Have you ever deliberately programmed something you knew would divide the audience and what made that risk worth taking?

Taking artistic risks is always worthwhile, as art should explore new, sometimes
groundbreaking and even shocking ideas. These risks are usually found in contemporary repertoire—for example, pieces by Jason Kittelberger, Wayne McGregor, Akram Khan, James Pett, and Travis Klausen-Knight can be provocative and occasionally controversial. Programming such works is always a deliberate decision, as it is essential to stimulate the audience and give them something meaningful to reflect on.

Looking ahead, what is your vision for the gala? Do you see this gala remaining primarily a celebration of established excellence, or evolving into a platform that actively shapes where ballet is heading next?

My vision is to continue celebrating the beauty and excellence of ballet while also evolving the Gala into a platform that actively shapes its future. I want it to support dancers and choreographers in bringing their most daring and innovative concepts to life, helping to define the next direction of the ballet.