Tag: contemporary dance

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Alexandrina Hemsley

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We sat down for an exclusive interview with Alexandrina Hemsley about her new show, Many Lifetimes, at Sadlers Wells.

This show runs from 26th March – 27th March at 8pm – Tickets here: https://www.sadlerswells.com/whats-on/yewande-103-many-lifetimes/

Many Lifetimes unfolds beneath a suspended linen canopy and a gentle rain of melting ice. Can you talk about the symbolism of these materials and how they shape the emotional landscape of the piece?

Of course! The symbolism of these materials stems from both personal experiences and wider cultural, embodied or psychological processes. Linen holds significance in burial rituals – and I drew on its light but structured textures within a close family burial several years before making this piece. I knew I wanted to work with it sensitively in some way as part of Many Lifetimes, and collaborating with set designer Rūta Irbīte became really crucial. I really trusted her approach and her encouragement to dive deeper into how something so personal could translate on stage. 

As part of making the canopy that is suspended above the performance space, Rūta buried the fabric for several weeks. Once she unearthed it, we then repaired the holes that had formed with orange-red overlocking thread. The threads become scars, rivers, and borders, membranes…symbolic of the fragmentation and the way lives re-form around grief. 

I’ve often turned to the emotional landscapes of water in my live works, films, and creative and critical writing. Across these pieces, I’ve explored how water can hold, flood, soothe, and nourish BIPOC disabled bodies across different timescales, from the historic to the contemporary.

I knew I wanted to work with ice in some way – to have an element of the set that operates on a different timeframe to the dancing. In the dance-installation, ice melts through the canopy and drips onto the stage. I love how this introduces its own rhythm and sense of time. Its symbolism is immediate and layered: from the climate crisis to the use of ice for pain relief. I’m drawn to elements that can hold multiple meanings and operate across different scales at once.

The work explores tidal cycles of love, loss and repair. How have your own personal archives and experiences informed the choreography and structure of this installation?

My experiences of motherhood, care work and bereavement have shaped both my artistic practice and my desire to explore how we navigate profound moments of change in our lives. Part of coming to terms with more traumatic experiences of loss and/or sudden illness has been finding ways to work with symbolism in the set and with emotional landscapes in movement.

The choreography is deliberately gently paced to allow space for audience reflection, perhaps for their own memories to surface. The structure of a solo that passes from one performer to the next traces shifts in state and lived, archival experience across each dancer. When we later dance as a group in an open improvisation, I wanted to get a sense of how important it is to hold diverse experiences within a community.

Yewande 103 places community at the heart of its practice. How did collaborating with dancers, musicians and disability access advocates influence both the aesthetic and the ethics of this production?

Thank you so much for asking about aesthetics specifically — it feels important to say that disabled artists are so often asked to consult on access, or to demonstrate accessible work, rather than being given space to experiment with how we talk about the work we make and what aesthetics emerge because of working in accessible ways. Those are very different invitations.

Throughout the Many Lifetimes process, I kept wondering why I had turned to water again, and why the first live work I was presenting in London in five years had a slow and gentle dramaturgy. It was only in reflection that I realised I had made a work through and of crip-time — without consciously intending to. I had embodied and choreographed an aesthetic out of something I had long used as a tool: bringing compassion to my own experience as a disabled maker, and what I bring to organisations I consult with. It was a strange and moving thing — a concept moving from thought into body. From theory into choreography.

Part of the collaboration has been trying to understand why I keep returning to water — the heartache and the solace of it — and finding that reckoning held so richly in the work of Black poets and scholars. That became something to do in collaboration, not alone.

Ethically, a central partnership has been with We Are Sensoria, and we’ve worked hard to hold flexible rehearsal schedules — genuinely trying to honour crip-time rather than just naming it. We have also worked with Shivaangee Agrawal to integrate poetic audio description into the work. 

But I also want to be honest about the tensions. The lights reflecting off the mirrored floor can be very bright, and the ice can be slippery — so accessibility is sometimes held in a real conundrum rather than a clean resolution. The same symbolism that lets us explore watery, tidal aesthetics can pull against the politics of inclusive practice. I find that tension worth sitting with rather than smoothing over — it feels more truthful to the work.

The performance is described as a “community of transforming solos,” with movement passing tenderly from one performer to the next. What does that act of transformation mean to you artistically and politically?

I guess I understand processes of change as a series of questions rather than a landing point. How have my inner and outer worlds changed? Am I allowed to change, or to be changed? And perhaps most tenderly,  can a community hold change? Can it bear the weight of someone else’s processing?

The phrase “community of transforming solos” feels true to something I believe about the hope of how change could be held within communities and how change could move — not as a single sweeping shift, but passed between people. 

My practice has long been about finding ways to ask embodied questions into wider political landscapes; whether that’s transforming who gets to be on stage, how Black and disabled and neurodivergent people are represented, or being part of a broader ecology of artists and advocates who are genuinely trying to imagine more equitable futures.

Accessibility is embedded into the performances through audio description, relaxed performances and touch tours. How do you approach access not as an addition, but as a creative driver within the work?

I approach access as a continual, exciting ecology of needs. I have learnt a great deal from the disabled communities I am a part of and how we are each approaching exactly this – how to bend expectations of accessibility in creative ways. Since making my open template access rider in 2019 (freely available for anyone to download), I ask what access needs are of those I work with. I work with improvisation as an invitation to let a body express itself in a very individual way and then consider (and re-consider) what working conditions best support a person to do that within the work. How to make work accessible is a question we return to over and over again in a creative process – not one to tick off and then move on from. 

I still can’t realise certain visions I have due to not only competition for funds but, more pertinently,  funding practices. For example, I have big dreams of one day animating poetic, creative captions or actually paying myself and my freelance collaborators for rest days, but the industry standard of including access costs within the main budget of any callout or commission is really stifling the production values of disabled-led work. Things are shifting, and separate access budgets are being seen more, but there is still work to be done through solidarity and undoing restrictive, discriminatory policies and habits for non-disabled people and institutions so that disabled people aren’t the only ones imagining otherwise. 

After 17 years of creating contemporary dance nationally and internationally, what feels different or newly urgent about Many Lifetimes at this point in your artistic journey?

It really does feel like a work that connects so many different aspects of my creative practice- movement, poetry, collages, access advocacy, and intergenerational performance. And that’s quite something to pull together in one space! It’s a work that relishes in being more than one thing, and I think that is as pertinent today as when I first started making work that refused to be captured by any one definition of identity. 

It feels like a solidifying moment, too, somehow. In seeking to make a work that arose out of wanting to hold my own lived experiences of bereavement and profound change within a community, I feel like I got to reflect on the personal-political power of gathering to witness change and grief in 2026. I also realised how much I welcome inviting audiences from all walks of life and backgrounds into my work – a chance to hold and be held.

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.

REVIEW: Marking Time

Published on by Antonia ConstantinLeave a comment

Rating: 5 out of 5.


Marking Time delivers three fiercely distinct visions of how sound and movement bend, stretch, and disrupt our sense of time.

Earlier this year, I saw Outlander at Kings Place and was fascinated by the musical chemistry between Nico Muhly and Sam Amidon. The Only Tune has lived rent-free in my head ever since. So when I heard that Marking Time at Sadler’s Wells would bring their world into the realm of dance, I was genuinely excited to see how movement might deepen and disrupt what I thought I already knew about the piece.

Muhly’s own words capture the promise of the evening: “Dance makes you experience time in a completely different way than in a concert hall.” And the title “Marking Time” itself seems to play on that very idea: not just tracking moments as they pass, but tracing how time can be felt, stretched, broken, replayed, remade through sound and motion.

The structure of the show is clean yet deeply layered: three pieces, three choreographers, three distinct ways of mixing sound with movement.

First up is Slant by Jules Cunningham, set to Muhly’s piece Drones. Here time doesn’t feel linear at all. There is no story you can follow; instead, sound and movement appear disjointed, disorientated. The dancers’ technical precision is counterbalanced by their sense of being lost. A length of string used as a prop at the beginning, seemingly meant to hold things together, ends up in a tangled bundle on the floor, impossible to untangle. That ambiguity of time, movement and rhythm felt compelling to me.

The second piece, Veins of Water by Maud Le Pladec, felt like a metamorphosis of the string motif: that tangled line becomes fluid, turning into the “veins of water” that carry the descent of the audience into a form of katabasis. The dancers moved with sinuous grace, their limbs and torsos sweeping like currents, echoing Muhly’s score. Here the narrative felt fluid, less fragmented, but still retaining that under-current of grief I experienced during the first piece. Lighting by Eric Soyet is integral throughout, weaving with movement and sound to create “dance shadows” , to play with perspective and particularly in the final moments, where the stage becomes a kind of cinematic space, recalling the era of 1920s film.

And then came the part I had been quietly anticipating all evening: a new incarnation of The Only Tune, shaped by the unlikely but electrifying triangle of Nico Muhly, Sam Amidon, and Michael Keegan-Dolan. Each of the three brings a distinct artistic lineage. Amidon channels the voice of the past, his delivery carrying the grit and fragility of the old storytellers who first whispered these ballads. Muhly, in contrast, operates like a modern sound architect, dismantling the ballad’s old structure and rebuilding it into layered sound worlds where memory, distortion and emotional residue coexist. And Keegan-Dolan, with his blend of ritual, irreverence and theatrical instinct, slips into the cracks between them, conjuring a movement language that feels half myth, half trickster.

The dancers, clad in skeletal costumes, move with a mixture of menace and mischief, revealing the strange truth at the heart of murder ballads: that these grim narratives were always meant to thrill as much as to chill. Scratches, growls, sudden exhalations and the thud of feet become part of the score. Sam Amidon stands on a chair, a rope dangling above him, as he recounts the tale of jealous sisters and the miller’s grisly handiwork. The staging exposes the grotesque humour buried inside the story.

The string returns here in a new guise, a symbol of something eternal: a “no-time” thread running through the story’s violence, perhaps even the unbroken line between life and death that the ballad gestures toward.

The musicians of the Britten Sinfonia provided an extraordinary live texture around the action embodying what it means for tradition to be not merely inherited, but actively reimagined in real time.

In the end, Marking Time felt less like a programme of three separate works and more like a single, shifting inquiry into what time does to sound, to bodies, and to stories. Across disorientation, fluidity, and the wild theatricality of The Only Tune, the evening revealed how music and movement can fracture time, loop it, distort it, and sometimes even stop it.

In Conversation With: David Ottone

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We sat down for a chat with David Ottone, the artistic director of TRASH!

What sparked the idea to turn everyday waste into musical instruments and create an entire show around it? Was there a specific “aha” moment that led to TRASH!?
TRASH! is a collaboration between two companies: Yllana and Toom Pack. At Yllana, we specialize in physical comedy, while Toom Pack focuses more on percussion. For years, Toom Pack had been exploring how to use everyday objects to create music and theater, and this innovative approach immediately caught our interest.
When we decided to join forces, we delved deeper into the themes of waste and recycling, which became the core of the show. Early in the creative process, we came up with the title TRASH!, which served as both a concept and a creative springboard. For us, “Trash” not only references waste but also evokes the onomatopoeic sound of something being struck—perfect for a percussion-based show. That title helped us focus our research and further refine our vision.

With audience members joining the performers on stage each night, what’s been the most surprising or memorable moment from these interactions during your European tour?
We love involving the audience in our shows—it’s a trademark of Yllana. Our goal is always to make the audience feel like they’re part of the performance, and there’s constant interaction: clapping, stomping, singing, and more.
There’s one specific moment in TRASH! that takes this interaction to another level. In this number, we invite two spectators on stage to join us in creating an unforgettable, one-of-a-kind moment. It’s a carefully crafted sequence that blends Beethoven, slapstick, and plastic bottles with whatever spontaneous magic happens with our “volunteers.” Every night is different, and that unpredictability is the magic of live theatre.

From propane tanks to plastic bottles, the instruments in TRASH! are truly unconventional. Which one was the most challenging to create or master, and do you have a personal favorite?
There are many percussion-based shows around the world, so one of our main goals with TRASH! was to create something unique and original. Research and development (R&D) were essential in achieving this.
One of my favorite creations in the show is a sequence where we attach inflated plastic balls to ropes and use them to hit containers. Rhythmically, it’s very powerful, but what makes it stand out for me is the visual impact—it’s both musically and visually captivating.

With cast members hailing from Spain, Uruguay, and the Ivory Coast, how do the performers’ diverse backgrounds influence the show’s energy and style?
One of the biggest strengths of TRASH! is its multicultural cast. Each performer brings something unique from their own culture, whether it’s a specific style of dance, movement, or rhythm. These diverse influences give the show its dynamic energy and universal appeal. TRASH! is truly an international show with a universal language.

TRASH! blends humor, music, and a subtle environmental message. What do you hope audiences take away from the show, both in terms of entertainment and awareness?
Comedy is a powerful way to address complex issues. While TRASH! is primarily an entertaining show, it carries an underlying message about recycling and the excessive waste we produce as humans. Simply showing how discarded objects can be transformed into something useful and beautiful is a statement in itself.
If we can inspire audiences to think differently about waste while also entertaining them, then that message becomes even more impactful.

TRASH! will run at Peacock Theatre, WC2
Tuesday 18 February – Saturday 1 March 2025

REVIEW: balletLORENT: The Velveteen Rabbit

Published on by Manmeet K WaliaLeave a comment

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

A timeless classic and a celebration of the human spirit and the transformative power of love

In the world of children’s literature, few tales hold the enduring charm and emotional resonance of Margery Williams’ “The Velveteen Rabbit.” This timeless story, with its poignant themes of love, transformation, and the journey of growing up, has captivated hearts for generations. Bringing this beloved narrative to life on the stage is no small feat, but in the form of a balletLorent style, it achieves a transcendent beauty that enchants both young and old alike.

The ballet rendition of “The Velveteen Rabbit” at Sadler’s Wells, is a childhood classic reborn, blending the magic of dance with the whimsy of Williams’ words. From the moment the curtains rise, audiences are transported into a world of happy times and cherished memories, as the tale unfolds through graceful movements and expressive choreography. The familiar characters of the story come to life on stage, from the endearing Rabbit to the wise old Skin Horse, each brought to vivid life by the talented dancers donned in artistic costumes. 

One of the most enchanting aspects of the performance is its ability to evoke a sense of nostalgia and wonder, reminiscent of the innocence and imagination of childhood. Through imaginative sets and whimsical costumes, the audience is invited into the enchanting world of a young boy’s playroom, where toys come to life and dreams take flight. It’s a magical journey that resonates deeply with both children and adults, tapping into the universal longing for connection and belonging. 

At its heart, “The Velveteen Rabbit” ballet is a celebration of the human spirit and the transformative power of love. What sets this performance apart is its ability to blend humor and heartache seamlessly, crafting a narrative that is both delightful and deeply moving. Through moments of whimsy and laughter, the ballet invites audiences to revel in the joy of childhood innocence, while also exploring the bittersweet reality of growing up and letting go. However, there are moments within the performance where some audience members may find themselves feeling disconnected from the narrative.

In the end, “The Velveteen Rabbit” ballet is more than just a performance—it’s a journey of the heart that reminds us of the beauty and wonder of childhood. Through its timeless themes and enchanting storytelling, it speaks to the child in all of us, inviting us to embrace the magic of love, imagination, and the power of believing in what is real. The performance concludes with a moment of pure magic. Without giving away too much, suffice it to say that the surprise ending is sure to leave children happy.

Photo by Jimmy Parratt

REVIEW: California Connections: Three Pioneering Women

Published on by alexnorm14Leave a comment

Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Expressive, strong, entirely unique, Yorke Dance Project returns us to the golden age of modern dance

California Connections: Three Pioneering Women is a celebration of some of the finest choreographic minds in modern history. Performed by the Yorke Dance Project, the works of Kenneth MacMillan, Martha Graham, and Bella Lewitzky featured alongside the world premiere of Yolande Yorke-Edgell’s A Point of Balance. Brought to life by the dancers of the Yorke Dance Project, with special guests Michael Barnes & Eileih Muir, California Connections is Modern dance at its finest. 

Powerful is the word most apt to describe the incredible dancers who appeared in this performance. Every dancer exuded strength and power, not only in their physicality but in their expression; to celebrate powerful women in dance, it is only right that their work feature women of equal caliber. Of particular brilliance were Abigail Attard Montalto,who featured as the soloist in Graham’s Errand Into the Maze, and Eileih Muir, who featured as lead soloist in A Point of Balance. 

California Connections opened with MacMillan’s one-act ballet Isadora, commemorating the life of modern dance visionary Isadora Duncan. MacMillan’s choreography is passionate and evocative, often bordering on downright erotic and full of dramatic visuals. Largely driven by the tales of Isadora’s personal and romantic life, this ballet featured four unique pas de deux’s. Each pas was extraordinary in how brilliantly the minutiae of that given relationship was to be understood. Faultlessly combining power, sensuality, and vulnerability, Amy Thake became the embodiment of Isadora. Michael Barnes as Gordon Craig was my only point of contention; while he gave one of the most rousing characterizations of the evening, his movements appeared quite stiff and juvenile at times. Edd Mitton and Harry Wilson captivated in the roles of Paris Singer and Sergei Esenin respectively, and Pierre Tappon brought a pleasant degree of whimsy as the Beach Boy. Intelligently subtle decisions in lighting design from Zeynep Kepekli and beautifully simple costumes from Barry Kay solidified Isadora’s ethereal feel. 

Errand Into the Maze was exactly the type of strange brilliance expected of Graham. Dancers Montalto and Mitton delivered a technically flawless performance filled with power and curiosity. It was a perfect incarnation of the story of the minotaur hunter in the maze and an impeccable celebration of Graham’s creativity. 

Yorke-Edgell’s A Point of Balance displayed intelligent and beautiful choreography while exploring layered connection and separation. Soloist Muir, perhaps one of the finest dancers I have ever seen, delivered a captivating performance alongside dancers Jenny Hayes and Ellie Ferguson. Muir and Hayes partnered beautifully and danced as one single unit; Muir and Ferguson greatly complimented each other in their duet but had synchronicity issues at times. The collective effect of the trio was overwhelmingly beautiful and stood strong alongside the brilliance of Graham, Lewitzky, and MacMillan. 

Lewitzky’s Meta 4 was the finest choreography of the evening. Closing the show, Meta 4 featured dancers Jenny Hayes, Abigail Attard Montalto, Pierre Tappon, and Luke Ahmet in a four part study of geometry and function. Unfortunately the dancers of Meta 4 suffered from several technical mishaps as well as blatant synchronicity issues. In spite of these issues Meta 4 shone as a pillar of exemplary work in modern dance. It is easy to lose sight of the beauty of modern dance in all its’ oddities but California Connections: Three Pioneering Women reminds us of its’ brilliance. The selected works culminated in an unforgettable celebration of the women who made dance into what it is today. Expressive, strong, entirely unique, California Connections: Three Pioneering Women returns us to the golden age of modern dance.

© Photography by ASH

REVIEW: Les Noces – The Departure

Published on by evierowanLeave a comment

Rating: 4 out of 5.

A needed decampment from tradition, this collaborative performance is ambitiously new

The evening begun with Andrea Balency-Béarn’s Appels, a great piece to get everyone in the mood for the upcoming Stravinsky, as written in response to Les Noces, Appels utilises four pianos, creating a beautifully discordant yet focused sound which rung out around the huge open metal-filled space of Woolwich Works. Moving smoothly onto Cage Letters by Yshani Perinpanayagam, the love letters of John Cage to Merce Cunningham are set to frantic piano, during which the dancers of New Movement Collective find their way onto the stage, ready for the main event, Les Noces.

Les Noces, or The Wedding (music by Stravinsky, choreography from Bronislava Nijinska) was first performed in 1923, a story of a Russian peasant wedding. The New Movement Collective transform the original ballet into something specifically for today, centred on community and interpersonal bonds. The dancers oscillate across the long narrow stage, never loosing sight of each other. It felt like what temporarily become lost was always found again; there were no loose ends. The dance then centred itself on the the communal recusing of isolated or estranged individuals. Visually, wedding elements were woven through the New Movement Collective’s rendition, with the dancers wearing beige and whiteish coloured modern suit trousers and cropped jackets which are eventually tied together to form a long, trailing veil.

Stravinsky’s score for four pianos was impressively performed, along with the percussion and timpani. At points, it felt like you were listening to a whole symphonic orchestra as the sound was so powerful, matched with the singing from the Opera Holland Park Chorus. Soloist performances from the soprano April Koyejo Audiger and the baritone Ross Rambogin really took you back with their vocal strength.

Stravinsky’s Les Noces is such a historical and traditional work, subject to repeated reinterpretation. However the New Movement Collective, rather then attempting to offer up their own re-do of Les Noces, it felt more like a response to that cultural moment, an echo from the future. I think there was something quite dystopic about Les Noces – The Departure, some vision of the future in which we might only have each other. The somewhat sentimentality I felt after was brightened however by the closing piece from Company Chameleon Youth and ENBYouthCo, as young performers collaborated with the impressive beatboxer MC Zani, and created a spirited and more animalistic response to Les Noces.

This whole project, a mass collaboration between so many groups and individuals, was a perfect piece to perform at Woolwich Works. Being a fairly new arts venue, I hope Les Noces – The Departure, will put it on more audience’s radars. It is an incredible venue, being in what was the Royal Arsenal. Its long history has been maintained and the huge renovated industrial spaces ares classy and versatile. I recommend keeping an eye on their upcoming events.