Category: Dance

REVIEW: 1 Degree Celsius

Published on by Mark LloydLeave a comment

Rating: 3 out of 5.

It’s an acquired taste, but when the music drops, so does your jaw

Sung Im Her’s latest work, 1 Degree Celsius, presented at the Southbank Centre, is a mixed bag that oscillates between challenging performance art and exhilarating contemporary dance. While the show is certainly not an accessible entry point for dance novices, those already familiar with and appreciative of interpretive movement will find moments of high quality performance.

The opening twenty minutes, which starts with the choreographer alone on stage, proves to be the production’s greatest stumbling block. Set to either silence or atmospheric humming, the movements felt disconnected and labored. This initial section leaned heavily into performance art, resulting in a start that felt more abstract and less like what many would typically define as a dance show. Unfortunately, in this 50-minute-long production, this slower, more opaque segment took up a significant portion of the running time.

The show undergoes a striking transformation once the percussive music kicks in. At this point, the audience is finally treated to the incredible dance and movement promised by the production. The talented dancers execute moments of highly synchronised walking across the stage. While there is an awful lot of rhythmic walking, the precision, coordination, and the sudden, sharp changes in movement make these sections highly effective and visually interesting. This is where the piece truly becomes entertaining and showcases the high skill level of the performers.

The show is reportedly intended to “look at the topic of climate change and the effects it is having on the environment.” However, the abstract nature of the choreography makes this theme practically impossible to glean purely from the performance itself. Without prior knowledge of the program’s notes, the intended environmental message is completely lost within the movement.

Ultimately, while I would not recommend this show to someone looking to get into seeing dance performances, if you are an existing fan of interpretive contemporary dance, this would be a great show for you.

REVIEW: Figure in Extinction

Published on by Ke Meng1 Comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

“A philosophy lecture overshadows dance”

I have complex feelings toward Figures in Extinction. The collaboration between Simon McBurney and Crystal Pite sounds irresistibly inviting and tasty, where McBurney’s bold yet playful meta-theatrical experimentation meets Pite’s precise and crisp choreography to conjure an overwhelmingly visceral feast.

Figures in Extinction is indeed an ambitious project. Firstly conceived as a multi-year collaboration between Nederlands Dans Theater and Complicité, the trilogy began with Figures in Extinction [1.0] the list in 2022, which premiered at Amare in The Hague and presented a sequence of endangered and extinct species through dance, voiceover spoken text, and projected lists. The second part, [2.0] but then you come to the humans, premiered in 2024 and shifted the focus toward human brains and how its functions affect our ways of seeing. The trilogy reaches its conclusion with [3.0] requiem, which premiered in 2025 at Aviva Studios in Manchester, drawing the work toward a final reflection on the living and the dead.

To some extent, Figures in Extinction mirrors much of Complicite’s recent reimagined project Mnemonic at the National Theatre. Through exploring the story of Ötzi the Iceman, a 5,300-year-old natural mummy discovered in the Ötztal Alps on the border of Austria and Italy, Mnemonic displays an almost Daoist philosophy. It reflects a perspective seeing time as non-linear and questions the Western, capitalist dichotomy between human and nature. Instead, it views humanity as inherently part of the natural world: we are indeed connected to Ötzi the Iceman; we are indeed part of those extinct species.

Therefore, Pite’s choreography illustrates many of those species vividly. For instance, one tableau features the majority of the proscenium concealed by three mechanised drapes, leaving only a narrow aperture at the centre of the stage visible. Within this reduced frame, a group of dancers forms the delicate, suspended silhouette of a spider orchid, appeared as even more immediate and raw. Another moment features one dancer under Tom Visser’s exhilarating lighting: plopping, twisting, leaping. He is not imitating a poisonous golden toad, but indeed is one, lively, vibrant, and present.

However, much of Pite’s choreography feels overshadowed by the over-pouring philosophical and scientific voiceover recorded by McBurney himself, especially in the second part. By citing Iain McGilchrist’s text on human brain’s hemispheres, the piece criticises a Western philosophical approach deeply seated in the left hemisphere that dominates definition, categorisation and explanation. Interestingly, the excessive voiceover exactly operates in this left-hemisphere register, relegating dance, the sensual and physical, to the subsidiary. 

In the third part, McBurney’s heavy directorial hand exhibits some poignant moments such as the raising of the skeleton, and Pite still showcases her most stylish choreographic tableaux sketching an ensemble extends their bodies toward a single elevated point. But the overall attempts to explore the theme of sustainability by juxtaposing illness, death, and new birth, from my biased perspective, feel somewhat clichéd, outdated, and unavoidably human-centric. Although Benjamin Grant’s sound design incorporates a number of classical requiems, and Will Duke’s projection of a vast, chthonic spider nest is breathtaking, both trying to saturate those attempts into visceral shades, the whole piece inevitably falls as bland and airless, leaving little lingering resonance, impact, or aftertaste.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Payal Ramchandani

Published on by ayoungishperspective1Leave a comment

Payal Ramchandani’s powerful new show Just Enough Madness uses the South Asian dance form of Kuchipudi to explore the silences around motherhood, miscarriage and mental health. 

Catch it at Dance City, Newcastle on 22 November, followed by performances at Bradford Arts Centre on 26 March and The Lowry on 31 March. Tickets are available here.

Just Enough Madness is such a striking title. Can you share what it means to you and how it connects to the emotional core of the piece?

    “Madness,” for me, is any deviation from what society deems ‘normal’ or ‘expected.’ Just Enough Madness reflects the threshold between conformity and chaos- that delicate balance where creation and collapse coexist. At its core, the piece journeys through the many silences and ecstasies of motherhood – its presence, its absences, its unspoken griefs and quiet joys. It’s about humanising the woman behind the idea of ‘motherhood,’ however brief or lasting her experience may be, and seeing her beyond the roles, myths, and ideals she’s expected to inhabit. In that sense, the title becomes a reminder, that perhaps it takes just enough madness to be whole, to feel, and to truly live one’s truth.

    The work explores motherhood, miscarriage, and mental health. What inspired you to bring these silences to the stage through dance?

      I’m at a stage in my life where conversations around motherhood – its desires, doubts, and absences, naturally surface. What began as personal curiosity soon became a deeper inquiry shaped by the stories and silences of women around me. I realised how often these experiences are glorified, simplified, glossed over, or left unspoken. Through Just Enough Madness, I wanted to give space to what isn’t usually voiced- the grief, confusion, and resilience that accompany motherhood and miscarriage. Dance allows me to hold these contradictions of beauty and pain, belonging and loss, without needing to resolve them. For me, this work is both a reflection and a search for understanding.

      As one of the very few Kuchipudi artists in the UK, you’re helping audiences experience this beautiful classical form in a new light. How do you balance preserving tradition while exploring contemporary themes?

      I believe tradition and contemporary are two sides of the same coin – what feels contemporary today could well become tradition tomorrow. Kuchipudi is the language I think, move, and feel in; it’s my vocabulary of expression. I don’t see myself as someone preserving the form – the art form is far greater than me. I’m simply a vessel through which Kuchipudi can speak about questions and experiences that feel urgent, relevant, and human. When I explore contemporary themes, I’m not stepping away from tradition, I’m allowing the tradition to breathe through today’s realities. The balance isn’t something I consciously strive for; it’s a natural outcome of my commitment to the form and my curiosity as an artist.

        For people who might be seeing Kuchipudi for the first time, how would you describe what makes it unique?

          Kuchipudi’s uniqueness lies in its seamless blend of dance and theatre. Rooted in the dance-drama tradition, it carries an innate theatricality where rhythm, emotion, and storytelling intertwine effortlessly. The movements are quicksilver – light, buoyant, and fluid, marked by graceful jumps and leaps, rounded arm patterns, and a characteristic sway that gives the form its lyrical quality. Traditionally performed by men as ensemble dance dramas, Kuchipudi has evolved into both- the solo and group form embraced by dancers (men and women) across the world. What makes it special is its ability to hold opposites – precision with spontaneity, spirituality with playfulness, classical rigour with theatrical freedom. It’s a form that celebrates the joy of movement and the power of expression in equal measure, speaking directly to the heart.

          What do you hope audiences will feel or reflect on after experiencing Just Enough Madness?

            I hope audiences feel seen, that they recognise fragments of themselves within the work. Just Enough Madness invites them to witness motherhood not as a singular experience, but as a spectrum- of nurturing and loss, joy and silence, strength and vulnerability. I hope it evokes empathy, prompting reflection on the unspoken spaces that often surround motherhood: the quiet struggles that coexist with celebration, the isolation behind smiles. If the work allows someone to look at a mother – their own, a friend, or themselves, with a little more understanding, softness, or awareness, then it has done its job. For me, it’s about holding space for what’s often left unsaid, and reminding us that to feel deeply is, in itself, an act of connection.

            IN CONVERSATION WITH: Olivia Graydon and Bayley Graham

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            This November, Adam Garcia’s Irish and tap dance sensation Emerald Storm is returning to the Emerald Theatre for an unmissable season. Led by Lord of the Dance’s Olivia Graydon, viral tap sensation Bayley Graham and Britain and America’s Got Talent finalist Tom Ball, this high energy production presents a contemporary fusion of traditional Irish dance, tap and live music. We sat down with Olivia and Bailey to discuss their upcoming performance.

            EMERALD STORM fuses Irish dance and tap. When you first brought those two styles together in rehearsal, what surprised you most about how your techniques “talk” to each other?

              Bayley: I’ve always been an admirer of Irish dance – I loved watching Flatley as a kid and may have stolen… I mean “borrowed” a few steps along the way and “tapified” them. So it was exciting to finally explore how the two styles could work together and bring something fresh to audiences in London. They’re techniques are completely opposite, but that’s what makes it work – opposites attract. There’s a real fire when those rhythms meet, creating something that feels both traditional and respectful to the dance forms, yet brand new at the same time.

              You’ve captivated millions online with your viral tap videos — what changes when you take that fast, digital energy and stretch it across a full West End performance?

                Bayley: Online, a video can only capture a moment, it’s just a tiny tease, really. Yes can show the flash and the fun, but not the full journey. On stage, you get to stretch that out and actually take the audience somewhere more than just a few seconds. Every night with Emerald Storm, there’s space to build the story and the connection through rhythm. Video is everything in this modern age, but nothing compares to seeing it live. The honesty, the sweat, the determination, and sharing that moment with the people right in front of you. That’s something you just can’t recreate through a screen.

                You come from a strong Irish dance tradition, but Emerald Storm pushes that into a contemporary, cabaret-style world. What did you have to unlearn—or refine—to make that transition?

                  O: For me it was less about unlearning and more about adapting. Irish dance is rooted in tradition and culture but over the years has moved in to the 21st century and become more commercial. In my own journey with Irish dance i have always tried to keep the foundations of the dance form whilst trying to push the boundaries. I think that’s why I love Emerald Storm so much. In my opinion Sam and Adam have created another genre of Irish dance.

                  The post-show Tap Jam is such a bold invitation. What’s the best or most surprising thing that’s ever happened when audience members join you on stage? 

                    O: I was blown away with how many people joined. A Jam is not part of the Irish dance world, but we do love a ‘Step about’ so I was loving watching everyone shine. I also loved seeing Irish dancers push themselves and get involved.

                    Bayley: The Tap Jam has become one of the highlights of the show. I don’t think any of us expected it to take off the way it did. I remember the first night chatting with Adam thinking maybe a couple of people would join us but to our surprise the entire stage filled up with dancers. The most special part is being able to connect and talk with everyone. At the end of the day we are there for the same reason and that’s the love we share for our dance. So if you are coming along, don’t feel worried, everyone and anyone is allowed to give it ago.

                    Working alongside Adam Garcia and Samantha Heather, was there a rehearsal note or creative breakthrough that changed how a number feels or looks on stage? 

                      O: Yes definitely, the Emerald Theatre stage is quite a difficult shape to work with. It is a triangular point at the front, so the biggest task in rehearsals was making sure we had blocked the numbers to adapt to the stage and space. Sam and Adam worked very hard in making sure we were giving the audience the full impact of the show and leaning into that immersive feel of being in Emerald storm.

                      Bayley: Working with Adam and Samantha has been a lot of fun. They bring a real warmth into the room, which makes it easy to play, take risks, and feel encouraged. I grew up watching Adam in Hot Shoe Shuffle, it was a huge inspiration for my foundation in tap, so finally getting to be in the studio and work alongside him was definitely a bucket-list moment. I think the biggest highlight has been their openness – they really encouraged us to be ourselves and bring what makes us unique to the piece.

                      This show demands stamina and precision – what are your personal pre-show rituals, and is there a particular number that still gives you that rush of adrenaline every night? 

                        O: For me, I love to listen to music and stretch. Bayley’s dressing rooms and I are opposite each other so we like to keep a good vibe and good energy around us. 

                        Stretching and warming up is important to me as I dance a lot in bare feet, so I like to make sure I am 100% warm and ready. Fields of Athenry will always be a favourite number of mine. It is where the Irish and tappers get to dance together for the first time, and tom is also singing the number which is amazing. I love the power it holds and how much fun it is.

                        The whole show gives me adrenaline – there’s not really a quiet moment unless it’s intermission. Each night feels different, especially in the Emerald Theatre space where the audience is right there with you. It’s so intimate that you can’t hide, you just have to give everything you’ve got. I do love a pre-show coffee, a good warm-up to some of my favourite tunes….especially Mr. Astaire and, of course, Olivia… that part’s essential.

                        Credit: Camilla Greenwell

                        REVIEW:Akram Khan Company and Manal AIDowanyan Presents: Thikra: Night of Remembering

                        Published on by Ke MengLeave a comment

                        Rating: 5 out of 5.

                        “An elegant and urgent response to the current political climate on immigration” 

                        First premiered in January 2025 amid the sandstone canyons of AIUIa, Saudi Arabia as an outdoor, immersive site-specific performance commissioned by the Royal Commission for AlUla,Thikra: A Night of Rememberingis Akram Khan’s latest work in collaboration with Saudi visual artist Manal AIDowayan, now reimagined as an indoor performance at Sadler’s Wells. 

                        The title derives from the Arabic word thikra, which means memory or recollection. The performance unfolds as a mysterious, pagan-like ritual tribute to ancestors. According to Khan and AIDowayan, the performance is largely drawn on a variety of mythology, but it does not fixate on any specific narrative or its symbolic connotations. 

                        Instead, the narrative framework seems quite loose. A matriarch (Azusa Seyama Prioville), together with two sisters (Nikita Goile and Samatha Hines), leads their tribe to summon their ancestors. A girl in white (Ching-Ying Chien), neither specified as a sacrifice or the summoned spirit, occupies the central stage. Alongside an ensemble of eight, the four entwine and twist their bodies around one another, crawling, dragging, struggling, spinning, lingering. 

                        The loud music and rhythmic beats, composed by Aditya Prakash (with sound design by Gareth Fry), interweaves music elements mainly from Arabia and South Asia, framed by ritualistic chants at its beginning and end that evokes the style of medieval Eastern European choir. Such intensity of sound, rhythm and physicality may remind you of Hofesh Shechter’s Theatre of Dreams at some certain point, but here the rawness is even more visceral. Their bodies are charged with anger, despise, disgust, rage, fury, despair and resentment. It is of no easy piece.

                        AIUIa, the ancient city from which the performance draws inspiration, is on the spice incense route that linked India, Arabia and Europe. In other words, the “ancestors” being summoned are those ancient inhabitants who once moved freely across South-Asian subcontinent and the Eurasia continent. As Khan comments, “I feel the urge to unearth the many cultures that have passed through here”, immigration is never something new. To be nomadic could be romantic and heroic, but today, in current political and cultural climate, it is shadowed by suspicion, hostility and even hatred. 

                        In one moment, a massive caterpillar-like rock emerges onstage, later dragged away by Chien. I can’t help but wonder, are the haters the only ones to blame? The immigrants, refusing to embrace any new possibilities – are they, like these caterpillars, spinning their own cocoons and curling up within a shell full of cultural stereotypes and rigid identities, rejecting any cultural collision? When difference is no longer celebrated, what has been lost through the passage of time, and what must now be summoned, is not the ancestors themselves, but the lost knowledge, and their nomadic ways of living.

                        REVIEW: Arlington

                        Published on by Sam WLeave a comment

                        Rating: 2.5 out of 5.

                        The characters are trapped and you are too – as you are made to feel every minute of the runtime

                        *Spoilers below*

                        Light. A single figure appears on the corner of the stage. The stage is bare, almost. On the other side is a set of three blue chairs, a red ticket dispenser attached to the arm of the one on the end. This is the only piece of scenery that will remain for the entirety of the play. The music throbs and the figure in the corner moves – small movements, at first, in his little patch of space before he gradually takes over the entire stage with full-body gyrations. He’s jumping one moment and face-down on the ground the next. It’s frenetic. Repetitive. The music quickens and the lighting is cut off square by square like it’s trying to catch up with and box in this dancer that never stops. It’s an almost furious expression of dance in the face of literal darkness.

                        This is the heart of Arlington. First performed in Galway in 2016, Enda Walsh’s three-act play is a mishmash that collides traditional theatre with dance theatre to tell the story of Isla. Set in a dystopian world, Isla is trapped by herself in a tower that is constantly being surveilled by cameras and an anonymous voice that tells her what to do, until one day, the voice changes and a tenuous human connection is formed between her and the man the new voice belongs to. Arlington, in essence, celebrates the power of love, connections, expression, art, and storytelling in a world where these things are controlled, repressed and outright banished.

                        In the Scottish premiere of Arlington, dance-theatre company Shotput makes a valiant attempt to bring this out-of-the-box play to vivid life on the Tron Theatre’s intimate stage. It is a valiant attempt because the material is not straightforwardly pleasing – in fact, it is at times difficult. While the show is only ninety minutes long, the lack of an interval to break up the tension makes it feel interminable. In a way, it is the perfect artistic choice – you are made to endure the confinements, and empathise with the characters’ own unending restrictions – but while your body is captive, your mind starts to wander and as a result, the questions posed by the show do not land as effectively as intended.

                        This is a shame as what Arlington tries to explore is worthwhile. In an increasingly totalitarian global landscape where world governments are in an arms race to spy on its own citizens, the ability of two people to connect under and, in some ways, ultimately resist the watchfulness of an overreaching authority is more relevant than ever. It would also be amiss to neglect to mention a delightful little detail of the set where the surveillance desk has a supermarket meal deal scattered over it, a reminder that those who participate in the machinery that oppresses are not cartoonish villains but very real human beings who eat and sleep just like any others, who go to work and clock in and clock out just like any others – the banality of evil captured in a can of Red Bull.

                        But just as the can of Red Bull is swept in the rubbish bin, Arlington is optimistic that we have it in ourselves to fight back. The one who surveils Isla is also the one who frees her, his transformation captured in how he has his back towards you in the first act but you see him in full view in the last act – his face bloodied but defiant, convinced that he has changed the world for the better, even if for just the one person.

                        This show runs at Tron Theatre until 25th October. It then embarks on a tour of Scotland at Traverse Theatre – 6 to 8th November.

                        Alesandra Seutin & KVS - Mimi's Shebeen © Danny Willems

                        REVIEW: Mimi’s Shebeen

                        Published on by rinreolusola2 Comments

                        Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

                        A profound, urgent call to healing. 

                        The U.K. premiere of Mimi’s Shebeen has exploded onto the new Sadler’s Wells East stage in Stratford, and is certainly another success for the venue. Created and directed by Associate Artist of the theatre Alesandra Seutin, who has a historic artistic interest in deep, movement-focused social commentary, the 90 minute piece is a resoundingly profound lamentation on Pan-African Black struggle. 

                        Alesandra has collaborated with KVS (Royal Flemish Theatre, Brussels) to produce a striking multidisciplinary movement piece, incorporating poetry, spoken word and music to explore the legacy of Miriam Makeba. Often referred to as ‘Mama Africa’, Miriam was an anti-apartheid activist and musician known for her relentless and widespread impact. Against the backdrop of a desecrated Shebeen, an underground space where Black South Africans would come together to escape the regime and discuss their grievances, Seutin introduces a powerful setting to explore Miriam’s life and her travels. In doing so, we are taken on a transformative journey through the impacts of colonialism across Africa. 

                        The piece is ambitious, and executes its exploration with grace and powerful urgency. Through Mimi’s lens, a fictionalised character inspired by Miriam Makeba, we explore her journey in exile from South Africa, and are invited into the splendour and strife of her travels. As a “Shebeen Queen”, Mimi is embodied by Tutu Puoane, whose haunting, astounding vocals take us from place to place. 

                        What is especially remarkable in the piece is its commitment to an embodied expression of complex emotions. The journey is not linear, nor is it autobiographical in the traditional sense. Through Mimi’s eyes, the audience are invited to experience a unified struggle, with striking poetic pieces, breathwork and a company of dancers who are completely in tune with the musicians. The company themselves demonstrated a disciplined, yet seemingly spontaneous symbiosis between the movement and music; the controlled unity of the ensemble, often precise and structured, is also filled with emotional abandon and a sense of complete freedom. The performers completely give  themselves to the audience. The accompanying musical duo, Angelo Moustapha and Zouratié Koné, are spellbinding in their honed ability to switch between musical styles to denote each place.

                        The Pan-African ideas that centre Mimi’s Shebeen provide an important reminder of shared experience and humanity. The embodied approach means that we are invited into indigenous perspectives and experiences of colonialism, where moments of cultural specificity are shared without taking away from the central theme. The piece powerfully centres movement and music as rebellion, protest, community and commemoration. 

                        The set and sound design are impressive additions to the experience, at first beginning as a site of violence and mourning, and evolving from place to place, sometimes triumphant, sometimes reflective. 

                        The immersive sound design is well crafted, at times giving us direct clips from Makeba herself, and ending with an affecting auditory experience. 

                        REVIEW: Catch! 

                        Published on by ruthiooLeave a comment

                        Rating: 2.5 out of 5.

                        “Catch! Joyful Circus Skills with a Few Drops Along the Way”

                        Catch! is a 45 to 50 minute showcase of friendship, flair and circus skill, performed recently at the Assembly Roxy in Edinburgh. Two friends take to the stage with absolute joy and warmth, sharing an array of hard-earned tricks from hoop routines and baton twirling to juggling with both balls and batons, all set against a lively and eclectic musical soundtrack.

                        The show’s highlight comes midway through: a captivating sequence set to Pentatonix’s famous Daft Punk medley. Using long sticks as props, the duo deliver a mesmerising display of rhythm and form, their movements perfectly in sync with the beat. It is the kind of moment that draws wide eyes and tapping toes, offering a glimpse of what this talented pair can truly do when everything clicks.

                        That said, Catch! is not always as seamless as one might hope. There are frequent baton drops, a rogue hoop that nearly finds its way into the audience, and the occasional sense that the choreography is still finding its footing. Yet, to the performers’ credit, their cheerful energy never falters. Every mishap is handled with grace and humour, their smiles unwavering, their showmanship endearing. From a cheeky look to the audience to a little pout of sass.

                        The opening and closing sequences, however, sets a slower tone. To an ethereal melody, the pair drift about the stage, gently unpacking an ornate box filled with all white props(a nice choice against the black of the stage and back curtain). It is an intriguing setup, but it takes a little too long, with what feels like nearly a third of the show’s runtime spent on the unpacking (and later, repacking) of that same box. While they find creative ways to keep it engaging, and the adults in the audience may appreciate the artistry, younger viewers were getting restless.

                        Throughout, there is a recurring motif of connection: lingering eye contact, shared smiles, deep breaths before the next attempt. While these pauses are understandable moments of recalibration, they occasionally verge on feeling overly intimate, as though we are intruding on a private ritual between the pair. Similarly, a few tricks are repeated one too many times; the nose-balancing “dolphin” routine, for instance, loses some of its sparkle by the fourth appearance.

                        Still, there are moments of genuine magic. The use of a white umbrella to create a dreamlike floating illusion is particularly enchanting. It is in these pockets of inventiveness and charm that Catch! shines brightest.

                        Ultimately, Catch! is a warm-hearted and joyful celebration of skill, friendship and shared passion. Its imperfections are many, but its spirit is undeniable. You leave feeling that you have spent time with two performers who not only love what they do, but quite possibly, love each other too.

                        REVIEW: The Machine of Horizontal Dreams

                        Published on by H HsuLeave a comment

                        Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

                        A vision that is living, breathing, and breathtaking in its execution, while
                        critiquing contemporary social structures and gazing toward a horizontal future

                        Inspired by writer and activist Adrienne Maree Brown, Pepa Ubera’s “The Machine of Horizontal Dreams” blends choreography, sound, light, and video into an immersive, boundary-pushing experience. 

                        Brown’s philosophy centers on the idea that change happens through small, simple, interconnected actions that build and replicate, and that the world we live in was once someone’s science fiction; to create a just and liberated future, we must first be able to imagine it in vivid, tangible detail. Most importantly, she proposes the interconnection of “we” – that our liberation is bound up with one another.

                        Pepa Ubera’s imagination of Brown’s concept, leading into The Machine of Horizontal Dreams, might be the most effective work I have seen at translating a philosophical concept into a tangible, felt experience. Upon entering, you immediately understand this will be a completely different experience; massive screens surround the performance space, with a sound design that constructs a realm of its own. The piece is not designed for the intellect, but for the body, the experience, the ineffable. 

                        The design of the show features elements from the title: horizontal, dream-like, and (almost) post-human. The space itself is designed to be horizontal. With only a few chairs, most audience members sit on the floor, as do many of the performers. The gazes in the space are designed to be horizontal rather than hierarchical – the performers enter as the audience is still finding its seat, wearing normal clothes and blending into the crowd. They move into the central stage, looking at each other and the audience – just as the audience is looking at them. This act of seeing, and of acknowledging that seeing, creates a horizontal power dynamic between performer and audience.

                        The piece features a majority of “dream-like” expressions. It weaves dream-like movement sequences, performed by five main dancers and often echoed by a larger ensemble of performers with bodies of different identities and dance experiences, creating a sprawling circle of echoes. The dream-like sequences are constantly shifting and re-shaping, with occasions of individual performers sharing their own spoken word pieces – a “horizontal” structure allowing individual voices to speak out rather than being used as mere devices for a larger and higher story. Through movement and these individual dreams, the ensemble embodies another way of collective being. At times, several dancers physically embody the dreams of their fellow members, with these roles constantly shifting. In one passage, members of the ensemble sink to the floor, and others gently pick them up to continue their journey. This choreography echoes Brown’s powerful idea of collective living – embodied the interconnection of “we” through empathy, awareness, and mutual aid.

                        The only element that feels at odds with the show is the “machine.” While the show is designed to offer a “horizontal” experience, it is primarily framed by rules delivered in a machine voice. The magnitude of this voice in the space, combined with its cold tone as it dictates the rules, makes it feel like an authority figure – a stark contrast to the supposedly horizontal, living, organic, and ever-changing space it seeks to govern.

                        However, despite these contradictions, The Machine of Horizontal Dreams offers a uniquely powerful experience – a vision that is living, breathing, and breathtaking in its execution, while critiquing contemporary social structures and gazing toward a horizontal future. 

                        IN CONVERSATION WITH: Akeim Toussaint Buck

                        Published on by ayoungishperspective1Leave a comment

                        We sat down for a quick chat with Akeim Toussaint Buck about his latest project, Free, a joyful, immersive dance show that celebrates Reggae and its radical history. Tickets are available here.

                        What role does Reggae play in shaping not just the soundtrack but the spirit of Free?

                        Reggae influences the way the performers walk, you have to inner stand that reggae isn’t just a music. It is a lifestyle and intrinsically linked to the spiritual motivations of Rastafari. So, it’s in the gestures we make, it is in the choreography, it’s in the costume and the colours of the lights. Even the way I decided to answer this question is reggae and if you know, you know. That is also Reggae, upholding the importance of Bible scripture especially Psalms, is Reggae. Standing up against oppressive states and being true to oneself is, Reggae. 

                        How did Leeds’ West Indian Carnival inspire the show’s immersive energy and aesthetic?

                        Carnival inspired the immersive energy for sure simply because when you go to Carnival, there is no front to watch. There simply is a world that you are now a part of, and you either dance or you attempt to go home. In Free it gets like this, audiences are swept up into this world and can’t really check out. You don’t get a chance to check out. My mum lives in Chapeltown so I can never really check out of Carnival when I’m there, and I love that; I am always aware of my proximity to the bass, no matter where I am. In Free this is also true. 

                        You’ve described the piece as a quest to transcend borders—what does freedom mean in this context?

                        Borders are collectively agreed notions that either support or oppress. Right now, we are all being oppressed by borders, and sometimes we ourselves become the Agent Smiths in the matrix, fighting each other over postcodes and political parties that separate and codify us to spaces and ideas. Truly, though we are all in it together and are manipulated by these isms and skisms that become so important to us that we end up killing each other because we don’t believe in the same thing. I find it ridiculous to be honest. In the context of transcending borders, freedom means I don’t really care for them, it is that simple. I know that it is complex but really in the perspective of looking at the natural world, it becomes stupidly simple. Last I checked we all breathe oxygen; last I checked if you cut me or you, we both bleed red. The ideas of nationhood and being patriotic that we currently have have come from imperialist and colonial initiatives therefore they are inherently harmful to humanity because the expansion of empire was one of the most dangerous and harmful things to take place on this great abundant planet. Free dismantles borders by bringing them down to a threshold to be crossed in a performance space. The proximity between performer and audience is blurred, chewed up and spat out for fun, just as borders should be because they are simply now a point of data collection and recording, just another tool of control disguised as a means to keep us safe. 

                        How does original dub music help carry the political history within the work?

                        If I didn’t write and record these songs for this show it would not exist. I decided from 2013 that I was going to make the music for this show in the dub style and create a story with the lyrics and the tone of the music. That is what I set out to do and that is what we did. You can’t have a reggae show without reggae music; it doesn’t compute. Reggae/Dub music is the root of so much electronic music that has roots in resistance because the sins of the father shall follow the son. What I mean by this is, Reggae’s roots are in resistance, house music’s roots are in resistance, Jungle’s roots are in resistance, Hip Hop roots are in resistance. And the list goes on but what came first? Reggae!!! Therefore, Free’s heartbeat had to be the Reggae Dub world. 

                        What do you hope audiences feel in their bodies as much as in their minds when they experience Free?

                        Just dance, don’t come and watch and enjoy like you’re watching Shakespeare. When you feel the bass in your chest, respond as you would when you’re out with your friends. The theatre has become an oppressed space too!!! So, let’s lively ourselves up and break the confines of how we show up in the theatre. Our bodies don’t need to look like a professional dancers’ to dance, just let the moves commence whilst enjoying all the show has to offer. 

                        In making this show joyful, how do you balance celebration with the weight of resistance?

                        Oppressed People especially from the African Diaspora tend to use joy as a form of resistance. Street parties, cook outs, Carnival etc This is the nature of humanity in an oppressed state when it is still allowed to do so. Before violence we will attempt to alleviate the stress ourselves, once the oppressor begins to stop us from enjoying then they are in trouble and that is why Carnival, and the abolition of slavery took place. It is not because slave masters began to feel some sense of empathy, no. They lost money because people were fighting and dying for their freedom. In Brazil, the people hid their resistance in Capoeira, and all over the African Diaspora there are acts of hiding martial practice of defence in dance and festivals, these are means of training or preparation for revolt. Who said these things are not happening right now? Who says this is just a dance show for entertainment and not riddled with messages of resistance? Many are called, but only a few truly know and understand the call to know what role to play in the Darkest Hour. So come and see if you are the chosen ones.