REVIEW: Black Sabbath Ballet


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A thrilling and inventive fusion of metal and ballet that showcases stunning choreography, powerful music, and a bold tribute to Birmingham


I went along to see Black Sabbath – The Ballet at the Lowry and honestly, it is unlike anything I have ever seen in a theatre before. I have been to a fair few ballet shows and plenty of gigs too, but this was a proper mash-up of the two worlds and it worked brilliantly. Carlos Acosta and the Birmingham Royal Ballet have really pushed things into completely new territory with this one, and it is obvious everyone involved put everything into making it spectacular.

From the moment the lights went down, the energy in the theatre was electric. The first act hits you with that iconic Black Sabbath sound, the Royal Ballet Sinfonia pumping through the theatre while dancers move across the stage with such precision it almost makes you forget the music is metal. There is something mesmerising about seeing these incredibly trained dancers interpreting songs like Paranoid and Iron Man. There are moments where the choreography literally reflects the riffs and drum beats. One of the most memorable things for me was seeing a guitarist lifted high into the air by dancers while playing. It is the kind of theatrical flair that makes you think that this is definitely different from anything else you will see on a stage.

The staging was impressive, simple in parts but clever where it needed to be. There is a section with a couple locked in an endless kiss while the backdrop of an industrial factory reminds you of the city’s heritage and the band’s own roots. It is dark, dramatic, and the dancers really commit to it in a way that feels raw and emotional without going over the top. You can see three distinct groups of dancers, each bringing something unique. Some are more traditional, some contemporary, and others almost experimental. Watching them interact is like seeing three different takes on what the music can mean.

The second act took me by surprise. I was not expecting to learn so much about the band alongside the performance. The pre-recorded voiceovers from Ozzy, Sharon, and Tony Iommi give the production real narrative weight, from the hilarious confessions about crazy spending habits to the more harrowing moments like Tony’s injury in the welding factory. It gives the whole ballet a depth that makes you feel more connected to the music and the people behind it, not just entertained.

I have to say the finale blew me away. A demon perched on a wrecked car holding drumsticks while dancers moved around in almost chaotic harmony felt completely over the top in the best possible way. Throw in live renditions of War Pigs and Paranoid and you have a theatre experience that is loud, proud, and unapologetically heavy. It is rare that a production can appeal to both metal fans and ballet fans alike, but this manages it effortlessly.

I loved that this was a tribute not just to Black Sabbath, but to Birmingham itself. The city’s influence is woven into the choreography and the music, which gives it a sense of place that makes it feel very authentic. The dancing was flawless, the staging imaginative, and the whole production radiates energy and skill. If you want something bold, inventive, and completely unlike anything else, this is the one to see.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Lucy Ireland and Jim Manganello


We sat down with Lucy Ireland and Jim Manganello about their new show Arlington created with their company Shotput.

Shotput is a dance-theatre company based in Glasgow, founded by and led by Artistic Directors Lucy Ireland and Jim Manganello. Shotput makes live performance as a shared space where together we explore difficult ideas, collective joy, and uncontainable human nature. Their productions are physically and visually rigorous, rooted in experimentation and collaboration. Though live shows are the heart of the company, we define our work not as a collection of shows, but as a web of relationships – collaborating with artists, audiences and communities.


What drew you to Arlington and made you want to bring it to the Scottish stage?

The play is so many things. Every time we came to it (and we came to it a lot – we’ve been wanting to do it now for five or six years), it meant something different to us. In an important way, it’s a mystery. Not a whodunnit, but something much darker and confrontational. The audience needs to work hard, and we love that at Shotput. We think theatre is a serious business that can also be manic and fun and uncontainable and messy and beautiful, and this play is all of that.

And apart from that, it would be hard to find a play that is more up Shotput’s street than this one. It revels in dark humour. It’s cinematic and visual. It’s got a huge dance solo bang in the middle of it. The text is as athletic as the dance.

And Scottish audiences love grit and heart, and this play is full of those two things. It’s not a gentle piece, it’s full of adrenaline. But, like a good gig, after the sweat, there’s a massive sense of release. If we get it right!

How do you bring to life the hope and love in a dystopian world, against the bleak backdrop? 

Distill it down, this is a Romeo and Juliet story. There’s a divided world, too – maybe not dystopian but definitely screwed up – and it is the love story. Two people discovering each other. Touching each other. At first just with their words. That’s Arlington too, but with a different mask on. A different poetry.

This mix of despair and hope isn’t particularly new – it’s in all great dystopian literature. A good dystopia doesn’t just shove your face in the shit and say ‘Look how rotten.’ As humans, we naturally search for inversion. A good dystopian vision activates the political core of the audience. It forces us to imagine what a better future – or maybe more precisely, a better present – looks like.

Do you see similarities to reality in the world Enda Walsh has created? How do you bring that to the stage?

This is connected to what we were saying about dystopias above. All the way through the design process and rehearsals, we’ve been clear that it is extremely important that this world looks and feels identical (or at least blink-and-you-miss-it similar) to our own. We, the makers  and the viewers of Arlington, cannot let ourselves off the hook. There’s no room for complacency. 

How do you bring that to the stage? You essentially ask everybody you are working with to be their full selves. To embrace the contradictions of what it means to be a human. We’re also on the look out for anything that’s odd just for the sake of it, and try to double down on the very real oddness that is within us. That oddness can be harder to detect because we swim in it, but once found it is a gold mine – and it’s the basis for both the comedy and the tragedy of Arlington.

How do theatre and dance work together to tell the story?

We don’t want to give too much away on this. The filmmaker David Lynch (huge RIP) used to say that we make these beautiful, mysterious things (in his case, films) in the exquisite language of cinema – and then after that is sent out into the world, it would be so sad, so inadequate to explain the film away, to decode or neuter it. When it comes to explaining the language, we are really reluctant to do that. We just want people to feel it, unmediated by our words, first hand.

What we will say is that the language of theatre and the language of dance are, for us, not so different. They come from the same place, just like someone speaking Spanish and someone speaking English try to describe the same sunset or tell each other they love each other in the same way. That’s how Shotput uses these different tools in our belt.

This is the first Shotput show without Lucy or Jim performing – how has it been to step into new roles as co-directors? 

How has it been?! Fantastic. We love performing and connecting with audiences in that particular way. But being only directors/choreographers this time has allowed us to be bolder, to work with swifter feet, and to collaborate with a tremendous bunch of performers who can do things that we can’t do and who bring experiences that are different than ours. It’s also allowed us to double down on how collaboratively we work with our designers, who are as much a part of our ensemble as the performers. So we’ll be back on stage one day, but this has been brilliant. 

What do you hope audiences will take away from this work? 

Well, as we said above, we think the audience will leave having really had a work out for their souls, brains, and bodies – and in that vein, we can’t know what they’ll take away because they’ll have done that work themselves. And we hope they talk to each other and to us in the bar afterwards about that work.

We certainly hope that this production allows room for existential despair, while also becoming a point through which people can – through humour, through hope itself, through connection to other people – pass through that despair to something generative and surprising and rowdy and beautiful.

Arlington by Enda Walsh is a show about telling stories, love and the enduring power of human connection in the face of oppression. It tours Scotland 17 October – 8 November. 

Tickets:  Lanternhouse, Cumbernauld | Tron Theatre, Glasgow | Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

REVIEW: Mark of A Woman


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Mark of A Woman is a quietly powerful and moving performance


Mark of A Woman is one of those pieces that quietly holds your attention and makes you think differently about how stories are told. Performed by Deaf artist and choreographer Chisato Minamimura, it explores the connection between women and tattooing, showing how marks on the body can hold memory, identity and power. The performance blends movement, digital animation and sound to create something that feels emotional and layered rather than straightforward or literal.

It begins simply, with soft light and slow, controlled movement. Minamimura’s presence is captivating from the start. Every gesture feels intentional, and even the smallest shift in her expression carries weight. She communicates completely through her body and face, so clearly that you never feel like words are missing. There is a rhythm to her movement that feels both calm and strong at once.

Visually the show is beautiful. The digital projections move and change around her, sometimes following her gestures and sometimes creating something new of their own. At one point a woman’s back appears across the stage, and patterns spread over her skin like flowing ink. It captures everything the piece is about, the way our bodies can be both a canvas and a story in themselves. The lighting and visuals work perfectly with her movements, creating moments that feel almost like memory or dream rather than performance.

The piece is not structured in a typical way and that is part of what makes it so interesting. There is no clear storyline or narration, just fragments of images and feeling that build into something more meaningful as you watch. Some parts are harder to grasp, especially during longer sections of mime, but they never lose your attention. Even when the meaning is unclear, the movement itself is absorbing and you can sense what she is trying to express through tone and energy.

What comes through most strongly is a sense of pride and ownership. Mark of A Woman celebrates women, our bodies and the marks we choose to make. It feels political but in a quiet way, more about reclaiming space and identity than making statements. There is strength and tenderness in equal measure, and it never feels forced or heavy handed.

Minamimura has a calm but magnetic stage presence. You can tell she has years of experience but she performs with openness rather than showiness. The use of sign language and Visual Vernacular flows naturally with the choreography, turning communication into art. It makes you see language in a completely new way.

By the end I felt like I had experienced something thoughtful and original. It is not a piece that tells you what to think, it just lets you feel it for yourself. Mark of A Woman is subtle, expressive and beautifully made. It gives a voice to stories that have often been overlooked and does so with care and honesty.

REVIEW: Bogotá at Sadler’s Wells


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A Gritty and Chaotic Retelling of Colombia’s History.


Kicking off the festivities of London’s Dance Umbrella Festival 2025 is a work from across the Atlantic. Bogotá, by Andrea Peña, promises to be a theatrical deep-dive into the storied chronicles of Colombia’s past, pre and post contact with the Europeans.

The work sits somewhere between a historical analysis of Latin American history and an FKA twigs concert — the scaffolding definitely has some streaks of eusexua. This industrial aesthetic is particularly arresting in the beginning of the work. The theatre is filled with the sounds of the forest and distant indigenous pipes, a thick mist blankets the trepidatious bodies of the semi-nude dancers, a recreation of the natural past in our metallic present. Before the dancing begins a voiceover from Peña recognises the ancestral lands that this work will transport us to, as well as calling on the spirits of the ancestors to guide us through the work — her grandfather is Indigenous Colombian. Land acknowledgments, which are largely not practiced in Europe, serve to centre the past and present voices of the colonised, immediately framing this work within that still ambiguous definition of the ‘post-colonial’.

The soundscape becomes increasingly futuristic, with electronic drones and bass lines buzzsawing through the serenity of the Amazonian birdsong. The dancers begin to undulate with a fleshy muscularity, they melt into clamboring duets and drag each other about the floor in their g-strings and jockstraps. There’s a conflict within the bodies of the dancers: alternating between a sinewy tension and a liberated release. The dancers become a moving frescoe of bodies as monastic chanting enters the mix, perhaps alluding to the first Christian missionaries to the ‘new world’. Their faces become etched with contorted grins and grimaces as they begin to laugh and wail. 

There’s more full-bodied phrasing as the work continues, dancers sweat it out under glaring halogen spotlights, they square up with shadow boxing, and sprint laps of the space. This Bauschian interest in laborious movement and repetition can sometimes render the tension that Peña builds slack, especially within a runtime of 80 minutes. But there’s some really effective imagery in the work, particularly in one scene where a figure of Western machismo, dressed as a skimpy torero, smashes a piñata under the watch of a trembling Christ figure, leaving Peña herself to descend to the stage and wipe the papery rubble with a Colombian flag, her ode to the cleaning ladies earning their keep for their first-generation children. To some these images may seem on the nose, but the punkiness of Bogotá, as well as its proclivity for the ambiguous, keeps things compelling rather than blatant.

There is no doubt here that Andrea Peña has an eye for aesthetics with her hulking union of the architectural, the sonic, and the somatic. Like her compatriot forefathers there’s a touch of magical-realism within her style. Though not always gripping in its movement and transgression, Bogotá serves as a punchy mission statement from a choreographer who is happy to leave the audience with more questions than answers.

REVIEW: A Big Big Room Full of Everybody’s Hope


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

An experimental exploration of the trauma that bonds us, and the family that holds us


Amit Noy brings together three generations of his Jewish Israeli family to explore the trauma of the Holocaust through dance, tense and playful physical interactions, and parody songs. The piece asks whether the suffering of our families affects us now, and if so, how do we inhabit physical space in, through and around this?

Amit Noy, alongside his parents (Ilan and Liora Noy) and sister (Maytal Noy), appear together, separated and in pairs throughout the piece, depicting an interplay between the various relationships within the family unit. His grandmother, Belina Neuberger, appears via video to discuss her experiences of remembering or avoiding reminders of the Holocaust, while his sister uses musical theatre to explore her complex feelings about her body and womanhood. These two women are instrumental in asking a core question: whether or not our bodies hold the trauma of our ancestors, and how we can become carriers of this without allowing it to control or direct our lives. 

Amit is a gifted dancer, and utilises humour and movement to depict a range of universal human experiences. The staging, costuming and sound design juxtaposed moments of levity with those of seriousness, vulnerability and emotional gravitas.

Amit Noy uses his family’s inexperience with performance as a strength, giving them space to move and exist on the stage in ways that felt authentic and lived-in. It was clear that the less experienced family members had become comfortable in their roles, not only with each other as performers, but with the stage and audience itself. When asked in a post-show discussion if the piece felt “exposing” to the actors, they all but one agreed that it had, with Ilan (Amit’s father) matter-of-factly revealing that he felt only pressure to uphold his performance for his family, and did not in fact mind the audience reaction. In hindsight, this comment concisely highlights the strength of the show— the relationships between the family members and their palpable concern for and lightness with one another.

There were some moments throughout the piece that felt disconnected, and at these times it was difficult to connect the threads in order to make meaning from the moments occurring on stage. This was a deeply personal performance, and as an onlooker, it was both exciting and, at some points, disconcerting, to feel as if the audience were peering in on a private familial moment. 

Ultimately, Amit’s ‘A Big Big Room Full of Everybody’s Hope’ is a performance that, despite a few confusing moments, largely is effective in highlighting the importance of the body, family, and connectedness with history.

REVIEW: A Decade in Motion by Acosta Danza


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Brilliant evening celebrating Cuban dancers, choreographers and culture

Founded in 2015 by the celebrated dancer Carlos Acosta, Acosta Danza is acclaimed for its distinctive blend of contemporary and classical works infused with Cuba’s rich musical and cultural heritage. Ten years on, the company has become a showcase for some of Cuba’s most talented dancers, blending contemporary, ballet, and popular dance styles with individuality. At Sadler’s Wells, their anniversary programme A Decade in Motion offered four contrasting works, unified by incredible control and musicality

The evening opened with La Ecuación, choreographed by celebrated Cuban artist George Céspedes. A glowing gold cube at centre stage set the tone, immediately captivating the audience as four dancers emerged from the darkness. They began with a series of solos, gradually building until X Alfonso’s score ignited the work with energy. From there, the dancers moved through shifting formations, the mood alternating between rapid, razor-sharp sequences and sustained, physically demanding poses. The choreography continually tested balance and flexibility, with recurring extended one-leg holds serving as a motif. Clever use of light and shadow heightened the tension, adding an extra layer of rhythm and intensity to the piece.

The next work was the UK premiere of 98 Días, choreographed by Javier De Frutos. Ten dancers in blue overalls began seated at the back of the stage, before stepping forward one by one into solos that gradually expanded into intricate group formations. The choreography made striking use of each dancer, balancing individuality with collective power. Over a narrated poem built around Lorca’s Son de Negros en Cuba and songs by Estrella Morente, the dancers bodies mirrored the rhythm of the text before breaking into the dance to the bongo-inspired soundtrack. The meaning carried through in how the dancers physically shaped the words regardless of whether the audience understood Spanish.

The standout of the night was the piece Llamada by Goyo Montero. Set to flamenco tracks, it blurred gender roles, with male dancers in deconstructed tutus. The works swung between flashes of rage and raw vulnerability, ending with the ensemble miming visceral screams. The raw energy emanating from the dancers was beautifully tense and unsettling.

 The final piece of the evening was De Punta a Cabo by Alexis Fernandez & Yaday Ponce. Against the projection of Havana’s Malecon from dusk to dawn, the full company took over the stage. After three “heavier” works, this felt like a release; small groups evolving into larger formations, pairs reforming, styles shifting between contemporary, salsa, and ballet. At heart, it read as an electric Havana night out.

The programme was cohesive without repetition and the dancers were brilliant. Each act had its own identity while still fitting together as a whole. The dancers’ musical intelligence was remarkable. Even in silence, the language felt audible, and they were consistently aligned with the score. Acosta Danza managed to be enthralling, playful, and celebratory in a single evening. Four distinct works, performed at the highest level, combining elite technique with genuine charisma. 

REVIEW: How to be a Dancer in Seventy-two Thousand Easy Lessons


Rating: 5 out of 5.

Michael Keegan-Dolan distils a lifetime of struggle and creativity into a meditation on how dance transcends constraint, expectation, and history


There’s a sly misdirection in the title: you expect a didactical session, a how-to lesson. What Michael Keegan-Dolan offers instead is a memoir in motion, a life distilled into rhythm, anecdote and image. Over eighty minutes the show moves like story: intimate, rough-edged, and stitched together with unexpected tenderness.

The evening opens with a startling image. His partner, Rachel Poirier, arrives on stage smoking, wielding an angle grinder against a massive wooden box. Sparks fly, the noise is harsh, industrial, elemental. Out of this act of force comes a treasure chest of props that will serve as touchstones for the autobiographical journey ahead. It feels like an origin myth: birth emerging from roughness, the creative process wrestled into existence.

Michael is an open book. He narrates rather than explains, in short, rhythmic sentences that read like poetry and land with the force of gesture. He doesn’t perform his memories as dance, but gives them a pulse. The delivery has a metric quality like a kind of spoken Latin scansion where the voice itself becomes a limb. In that way his storytelling is kinetic. He conjures on stage people from his life:  his mother who dreamt of the stage, an erudite father, a haunting grandfather, a bruising encounter with a priest, schoolboys and first love  and sets them in motion with both humour and the blunt honesty of confession.

Movement threads through everything: his awkward pigeon feet, the desire to move like screen idols, a first school disco, the imobility of his first sexual experience. These moments are tied together by migration as well as he moves across Europe ( the necessary itineraries of an artist finding himself) . And in all this time, one thing stays steady: his Irishness. Michael treats that identity as a fixed axis around which everything else rotates, sometimes with warmth, sometimes with the sharpness of being singled out and made to feel like an “other”. 

Poirier, by contrast, is perpetual motion. She is sidekick, alter ego, and prop all at once, the medium through which Keegan-Dolan’s storytelling finds its body. The connection between them is strikingly alive. Their interplay culminates in her solo to Ravel’s Bolero, where, in a suit and channelling a striking masculinity, she seems to merge with Michael, carrying his story and embodying his essence.

The final image was stark: Michael and Rachel standing still, eyes closed, unmovable. And yet I am certain I wasn’t alone in seeing them dance, not on the stage, but in the collective imagination of the audience. In my mind they were moving freely to the triumphant The Firebird Suite finale, unbound by the weight of expectation: not the father who wanted a barrister, not the critics, not the clichés of Irishness, not the fatigue, the doubts, the financial precarity, or the bruises of rejection. Just two artists breaking through all that, reclaiming joy, and reminding us that to dance is, ultimately, to refuse constraint.

REVIEW: RAMBERT X (LA)HORDE


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“Bring Your Own at The Lowry is a high-energy dance show full of athleticism, chaos, and inventive group choreography.”


I went to see Rambert’s Bring Your Own at The Lowry this week and came away really impressed with the energy and athleticism of the dancers. The show was split into three pieces, each with its own feel, and what stood out most was how well the group worked together. The timing was spot on, and they made great use of the whole stage so every section felt alive.

The first piece, Hop(e)storm, started with a bell ringing and a rumbling backdrop. It felt like a clash between the dancers, with the women launching themselves across the stage and the men having to catch them. At first it seemed combative, but it shifted into a kind of truce, where they danced together instead of against each other. I liked how it moved from a retro Lindy Hop style into something closer to rave culture. It gave the piece a sense of progression, like moving through different eras of dance in one number. The group worked as one, filling the stage and keeping the energy up throughout.

The second piece, Weather Is Sweet, was very different. It leaned into the LA club scene and was more provocative. The choreography was bold, playful, and at times a bit in-your-face, but the overly explicit nature of the dance did accidently turn it humorous. That didn’t take away from how the dancers pushed the limits of what their bodies could do and how far they could go with certain movements. Even though parts were sexual, it felt more like a look at how people move in club environments, how physical it gets and how boundaries are tested. It wasn’t my favourite of the three, but it was creative, and the timing between the dancers was flawless.

The final piece, Room With A View, really stuck with me. It started slow, with the group moving together in a controlled, almost hypnotic way, before one dancer broke away and shifted the energy. From there, it built into organised chaos, with human pyramids, dancers being thrown around, and bursts of energy that felt wild but precise. The group often split across the stage, which made it dynamic and full of life, with lots happening at once. At times it was almost hard to take it all in, but that added to the sense of chaos and rebellion. I loved how it swung from everyone moving together to complete disorder, with individuals breaking out and even taunting the audience. It was funny in places, but also powerful, the kind of performance that leaves you buzzing afterwards.

What really stood out across the night was the stamina of the dancers. The choreography asked a lot from them with fast changes in pace, big lifts, and sudden bursts of energy, but they never missed a beat. The athleticism was impressive, and the trust they had in each other made even the riskiest moves look confident. I also liked how much of the stage they used. Nothing was wasted, and wherever you looked there was always something happening.

Overall, Bring Your Own was a strong and varied evening of dance. Each piece had a different atmosphere, from the retro-rave vibe of the first, to the bold humour of the second, and then the chaotic energy of the third. For me, the closing number was the highlight, but the contrast between all three worked really well.

I wouldn’t say every section is for everyone, but that’s what made it interesting. You got to see different sides of what Rambert can do. The energy, precision, and athleticism of the dancers carried through the night, making the whole performance worth watching

REVIEW: Momentum


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Momentum brings forgotten gems to the stage with dazzling artistry


Reformed in 2023 under the Artistic Direction of Christopher Marney after a 30 year hiatus, the London City Ballet continues to wow its audience with a collection of rarely seen, international works. Mr Marney, acclaimed for reviving overlooked yet important repertoire, curated an evening featuring choreography by George Balanchine, Liam Scarlett, Florent Melac, and Alexei Ratmansky. The programme provided the company’s dancers with a platform to display both artistic subtlety and technical brilliance across both classical and contemporary works.

Momentum opened with Balanchine’s Haieff Divertimento, which was considered lost for decades until two members of the original cast set about reviving the ballet in 1981. The dancers shone most during their solos, with each dancer cleanly executing the petit allegro and pirouettes that the choreography demanded. Alejandro Virelles stood out for his combination of lightness and confidence, while Jimin Kim brought precision to every step. The duet with Sahel Flora Pascual and Virelles had a brightness that anchored the ballet, and the overall effect was clean and joyful. In future performances, it would be rewarding to see stronger cohesion in ensemble moments, with the dancers more finely attuned to one another and to the music.

Liam Scarlett’s Consolations and Liebestraum (2009) marked a complete tonal shift. Set to Liszt’s piano works, played live beautifully by Reina Okada, Alina Cojocaru and Joseph Taylor were breathtaking in the final pas de deux, while the entire cast, dressed in simple black, captured the ebb and flow of intimacy and fracture. Another highlight came in the pas de deux danced by Yuria Isaka and Arthur Wille, whose palpable chemistry was expressed through effortless partnering.

Florent Melac’s Soft Shore, a new commission set to Beethoven, flows on almost too neatly in mood, yet it has its own distinct qualities. Constance Devernay-Laurence and Jospeh Taylor gave the choreography weight and texture, while Alejandro Virelles and Arthur Wille brought contrast in their partnering work which moved the audience. The inclusion of a contemporary work showcased the company’s versatility, with the dancers excelling in this more modern setting.

What’s clear across the evening is the strength of London City Ballet’s ensemble as the company continues to establish its presence in London and globally as a touring company. Artistic Director Christopher Marnay has curated a programme that balances rediscovery and tribute of old and new choreography. Momentum reveals a company still young, yet already distinguished by thoughtful programming and superb dancing.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Joss Arnott


We sat down with Joss Arnott to discuss his new show Meet the Hatter, which is opening on 19 September in Leeds and then tours throughout autumn and winter. Combining dance, storytelling, original music, digital projection, lighting and animation, this imaginative new production offers a retelling of the beloved story of the Hatter, that sees him embark on a journey of growth and self-discovery.

Get tickets here.


What drew you to reimagine the Hatter as the focus of a full-length dance production, and what does this character represent for you personally?

    The Hatter has always been an interesting character for me. He’s quirky, mysterious, eccentric – there’s a lot of layers to him and this has fascinated me from a very young age. I knew I wanted to create a magical show and thought the Hatter would be the perfect fit to create a new, reimagined Wonderland for audiences to experience that was both cinematic and immersive. 

    I see a lot of myself in the Hatter and worked with the dancers to also show personality traits that they have so although they are playing a character, it’s very authentic for them. The character represents all of us, we can connect with him on many levels and can relate to his journey of curiosity and how he navigates Wonderland to find real meaning to create real change in his life. 

    How does combining dance with multimedia, animation, and original music allow you to expand the storytelling beyond traditional choreography?

      The show is definitely a spectacle and has a lot of offer a range of audiences. The multimedia, lighting and original music has been crucial to creating new environments for the Hatter and how we’ve developed the show in general. The visuals and musical elements really helped us create new choreography and develop the overall character through dynamic changes and always keeping the Hatter curious so he never gives up.

      There’s a real shift within the multimedia from when the Hatter is being reactive to his surroundings, to controlling them. This has resulted in all the multimedia aspects of the show having personality so even though it is a solo dance production for one dancer, you feel like you are watching many characters in front of you due to how we’ve incorporated everything. 

      The Hatter’s journey explores isolation and imagination—what contemporary resonances did you want audiences to feel in this story?

        I feel like there’s so much power in imagination to act as a form of healthy escapism. There’s a lot of darkness in the world and I wanted us to create a show that was joyous, relevant and honest. The Hatter is very relatable and charming; he’s a showman at the end of the day and just wants to have friends to share his life with.

        There are many themes and concepts within the show including;

        • Curiosity and Wonder
        • Magic and illusions
        • Overcoming loneliness and isolation
        • The Hatter’s longing for connection and journey to making friends and finding where he fits in the world
        • Embracing individuality
        • How being different is our superpower and exploring what this unlocks within us
        • Having a positive outlook on life and realising anything is possible if we put our minds to it to exceed our own expectations and what we’re capable of.

        Our Hatter is completely relatable which I felt was very important for us to portray throughout. We really care for him and the dancer’s performance is compelling – you’ll laugh, you’ll be moved and feel empathy to him in many ways throughout the show. The production also has an overall feel-good message of trusting we will always find purpose, happiness and belonging no matter what.

        As Joss Arnott Dance celebrates its 15th anniversary, how does “Meet the Hatter” reflect the evolution of your creative vision?

          For the past 15 years we’ve toured a lot around the UK and this includes both indoor and outdoor productions varying in scale. My choreographic language has evolved over this time but with our productions for young people and families in particular, I have really loved working more narratively and seeing how other art forms can challenge me and overall enrich the work we create. 

          My work has always been heavily influenced by music, which really enhances how a work develops over any creation period. I work really collaboratively with all of the creative team, both individually and collectively so it is very much a joint effort and achievement.

          Over time, we have developed how we embed audiences from the very beginning of any creation and at different stages of development through our Human Centred Design process. For “Meet the Hatter” we did this through delivering a range of research and development workshops and discussions working with both children and adults in multiple schools and community group settings. This allowed us to make sure we were creating a new dance production that was relevant and connected with our intended audiences. 

          “Meet the Hatter” is also the most technical production we have ever produced. It’s our longest show to date (65-minutes) and the process has just been epic and through various stages of development. The whole creative team have put so much passion and love into making the show and we truly believe we have made something special that I hope will be around for a long time and be seen by a lot of people. I’ve mentioned previously, but the show really is a spectacle that highlights what dance and multimedia can be achieved together. 

          It’s like you’re watching a film and being transported to different spectacular environments that keep audiences guessing and wondering what they’ll see next and where the Hatter is taking them next. 

          I describe my work in general as very cinematic but this show has taken that to a whole new level. I’ve wanted to create a dance and multimedia show for a very long time and feel I have had the best team and support around me to make this really ambitious vision come to life. 

          What has it been like to collaborate with such a diverse creative team, and how have their perspectives shaped the final production?

            I assembled a team who really are amazing. Everyone is at the top of their field and have just created such high-quality work that has been incredibly inspiring to work with. The process has been fantastic, we developed the majority of the storyline through an R&D period last year from that, developed all the choreography, visuals, scenes and music from there. 

            What’s been really exciting about this process is that everyone has had the same vision and wanted the outcome to just be the best it could possibly be which I’m extremely grateful for. It’s resulted in us creating an epic dance and multimedia show that is “Meet the Hatter” which JAD can call ours and really showcases how ambitious we are as a company.  

            To create a solo dance work of over an hour is challenging but it’s been the most rewarding and I think proudest achievement I’ve felt from what we’ve all achieved.  Most importantly, we’ve had a lot of fun making the show!

            What do you hope children and families take away from this reimagined Wonderland, and how do you balance playfulness with depth in the work?

              The show is extremely playful, yet it also delves into darker moments to showcase multiple layers of the Hatter. 

              I’m excited to finally being able to take the show out on tour and to see how audiences react to it. I’m interested in hearing what people have to say and how it moves them but I hope it really inspires them in many ways. Audiences are at the heart of everything we do and I hope the show gives audiences that wow factor following the Hatter’s journey and to really connect with him and want to be his friend.

              I would love our audiences to care for the Hatter and his journey through Wonderland where he ultimately develops the skills and knowledge to take control of his life and bring colour into his world for the very first time.   

              There really is something for everyone and people should come and see “Meet the Hatter” because there is so much to enjoy and fun within it. There’s exciting and athletic choreography by brilliant dancers, new storytelling, breathtaking visuals, design and animation, it’s beautifully moving and has amazing, originally composed music that is really varied and full of all the emotions!

              Ultimately, it’s a feel-good show where audiences can engage and be very much part of it.

              My motto for the creative team from day one was “Let’s make some magic!” and I really feel like we achieved this and more so I really cannot wait for people to come and watch and for us to share this really special show with them.

              I’m so excited, I cannot wait!Meet the Hatter opens at the Stanley & Audrey Burton Theatre, Leeds on 19 September and then tours the UK. Tickets are available here: https://jossarnottdance.com/productions/meet-the-hatter/