IN CONVERSATION WITH:  Michael Keegan-Ó Dobhailen


We sat down for a quick chat with  Michael Keegan-Ó Dobhailen about this upcoming show How to be a Dancer in Seventy-two Thousand Easy Lessons coming soon at Sadlers Wells East


How did growing up in 1970s Ireland shape the themes of identity, shame, and defiance that run through How to be a Dancer in Seventy-two Thousand Easy Lessons?

Where you grow up, when you grow up and who you grow up with effects the way your perception functions and how your nervous system and your endocrine system function. In the 70’s, almost every other day someone would be killed in the North of Ireland. In Dublin, we were mostly insulated from the direct horrors of the conflict but it was always in the ether.

In Ireland in the 1970s, there was serious economic instability, widespread unemployment and  extensive emigration. Money was scarce. These challenges required of us all to be defiant, my name Dolan, in Irish is Ó Donhailen, meaning the son of the defiant one.

The Catholic Church still ran the country in conjunction with the government, and shame was their primary means of controlling a population who were beginning to free themselves from the oppression of religion and conservatism. 

In blending fact and fantasy, history and memory, what truths were you hoping to uncover or destabilize for the audience?

I have no interest in destabilizing anyone, above all the audience who have taken the time and made the effort to come and witness the work we make.

Truth is important but it is not always appreciated. For example from what I understand the education syllabus in England does not explain in much detail the fundamental actions that underpin most Irish people’s (of a certain age) relationship with the English people, their government and their mechanisms of power. It would be useful, in my humble opinion, if more English people knew what Oliver Cromwell and his army did in Ireland,  the United Irishmen and their rebellion of 1798, The Famine of 1845-50, the 1916 Easter Rising, the War of Independence etc.

Violence, starvation, oppression and torture are remembered and carried in the sinews and bones of a people. As a dancer, my relationship with my sinews and bone is close and intense. Your history, family, generational and of your people effect the way you stand, the way you walk, the way you  dance. How you dance is who you are.

Collaboration is central to this work. How did your long-time partnerships with Rachel Poirier and Adam Silverman influence the piece’s evolution?

Trust. I would trust Rachel and Adam with my life. The depth and quality of that trust enabled me to get back on stage as a performer after 25 years, and talk about subjects that were important to me. Without trust, creativity in a collaborative or communal setting can quickly become superficial.  Maybe this is one of the primary reasons why some work can be so superficial.  The absence of trust in the room.

The show moves fluidly between ritual, theatre, dance, and music—what drew you to collapsing these boundaries rather than keeping them distinct?

Dance and ritual are bedfellows. Music and Dance are brother and sister, father and mother. Many boundaries are conceptual and created from a place of anxiety and mistrust. By dissolving boundaries we are confronting our anxiety and fear. Fear prevents one from doing things one might like to do. Some boundaries are useful – even necessary – others are conceptual, poisonous and utterly useless.

How do you see the role of Teaċ Daṁsa, rooted in the West Kerry Gaeltacht, in connecting local culture and myth with a global audience?

The Romans never came to Ireland. The myth says that they could not cope with our weather, calling Ireland ‘the land of eternal winter’. The advantage of our bad weather is that Ireland was left out of much of the Romans’ objectivation of the natural world for much longer than the rest of Europe. Therefore the Irish have a stronger, inherent connection to the world of sprit. Spirit is beyond culture, beyond geography. By working where we work and how we work, our role is in some ways to bring some spirit back into the world of dance and theatre.  

Looking back, what personal lesson or discovery surprised you most in the making of How to be a Dancer in Seventy-two Thousand Easy Lessons?

How deeply and strongly I was connected to the life of a family member whom I never met and initially knew little about. Never underestimate who or what is driving the chariot. You can mistakenly think that it is you, when in truth, it may not entirely be the

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Adrienne Hart

We sat down with choreographer Adrienne Hart to discuss their latest production Last and First Men, a Neon Dance and Bristol Beacon collaboration with Encounters Film Festival.

Set in a distant future where the human race teeters on the brink of extinction, the last remnants of humanity reach back across two billion years in a stage performance that combines 16mm film with live performances from three dancers and seven musicians.

Opening at Dance City Newcastle on the 18th of September, then moving to Bristol Beacon on the 26th of September, this production will tour internationally into 2026.


How did you approach choreographing movement for a future humanity imagined as both evolved and alien, yet still recognisably human?

I worked closely with the award winning artist Ana Rajcevic whose practice explores radical new possibilities for human augmentation, creating hybrid prosthetics and body-extensions that merge human and non-human forms. We’ve worked together for 10 years so we have a deep understanding of each other’s practice. The fact that Ana is already working with this idea of a future body really helped build a specific physicality. The body-extensions she created came to life when worn by the performers, shaping and affecting each dancers’ movement while also expanding their physical expression. The dancers and I also worked closely with the beautiful descriptions of the ‘last men’ in Olaf Stapledon’s novel to inspire Last and First Men’s movement language. 


In weaving together Jóhann Jóhannsson’s film, Yair Elazar Glotman’s live score, and your choreography, how did you ensure each element retained its own voice while forming a coherent whole?

This was the first project that I’ve worked on where I’ve started with a ready made film and score, but I felt there was space in both for the choreography to emerge. There are no people present in Johannsson’s film so this gave me the opportunity to work with my team to imagine what those future bodies might be like, how they might move and communicate. I enjoyed finding ways for the film to extend beyond the screen, through lighting and movement referencing what is present in the images. We also have moments in the work where the dancers frame the space and hand over to the music, light, image. It’s a dialogue and in a way a dance.  


What role does discomfort — as well as solace — play in shaping the audience’s experience of Last and First Men?

Audiences will experience sci-fi bodies moving in futuristic costumes designed to connect and extend their physical forms. Tilda Swinton’s narration is delivered with icy precision and depicts the last generation of humanity in the far future, whilst giant concrete structures in 16mm black and white film project behind. Johannson’s emotive final score, weightless and mournful, completed by Yair Elazar Glotman after his passing provides an eerie yet beautiful soundtrack. The performance challenges the very concept of human identity and explores the potential evolution of the human form, questioning how far we can push the boundaries before humanity becomes something unrecognisable. There’s space within the work for audiences to reflect and meditate on their own relationship to the world in which we live and where we might be heading. This might cause some discomfort, but I believe that there’s also beauty and potential in all that might happen and could be. 


Working so closely with Jóhannsson’s collaborators and legacy, did you feel more a custodian of his vision or a co-creator extending it into new territory?

I never got to meet Jóhannsson when he was alive so I have no sense of what he would think of this iteration of Last and First Men, however having the approval of his estate and close collaborators, to be trusted with his final work means a lot. Because all of the work I create is in collaboration with others (I try to foster a process whereby everyone works together to create something that we could not have created alone) I always have some detachment once a work exists in the world. It’s like it grows into its own entity and often the choices I make are not ones made out of personal taste but what is best for the work. In the original book Last and First Men written by Olaf Stapledon, you’re led to believe the writer is being fed the words he writes from one of the future humans. I like the idea that somehow Jóhannsson was present in the studio with us… and to answer your question, perhaps a little bit of both?  

How does speculative fiction — imagining life two billion years in the future — open up possibilities for contemporary dance to reflect on the present?

I’m a big science fiction fan, particularly works written in the 1930’s. I love how the creativity inherent in the genre allows the reader to imagine the unimaginable and how what might seem impossible has over time passed from science fiction to science fact whilst other ideas present in speculative fiction remain enticingly close. I felt Olaf Stapledon’s Last and First Men was really relevant to today, it speaks of the fragility of civilization; our capacity for both creation and destruction. The many iterations of humans outlined in wonderful detail from the 1930’s to two billion years in the future offered this incredible archive of bodies to draw from as a choreographer. We focused on the final humans, which is actually just a small section near the end of the book but there was so much there to draw from and be inspired by. 


Given Neon Dance’s ethos of accessibility and experimentation, how do you hope younger or first-time audiences will connect with this ambitious, cross-disciplinary work?

In some respects the work is unashamedly abstract but there’s a lot to connect with to draw in first-time and younger audiences. The themes tap into the situation we all find ourselves in, the enormity of the universe in which we are nestled within. It’s a multisensory experience and my aim is to immerse audiences into an almost collective dream or perhaps group meditation of sorts! A friend who watched the premiere in Berlin said how he enjoyed watching the audience ‘like children listening to a great story teller. That’s maybe my aim. Through striking performances, transformative costumes and powerful visuals, light and sound, the show invites the audience to reconsider their perceptions of embodiment. The unforgettable narration by Tilda Swinton amplifies the experience, guiding the audience through a provocative exploration of humanity’s future. 

REVIEW: Emerald Storm


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“A glamorous cabaret ceilidh full of heart and crowd pleasing talent”


Like a tiny pendant on a necklace, the Emerald Theatre is the perfect venue for such a jewel of a show. Emerald Storm comes from successful performer-producer Adam Garcia, blending tapdance with Irish dance into a supper club party almost fit for the modern era. 

This cabaret show is all about making you feel uplifted through a series of variety show vignettes showcasing the performers’ skills, including music, dance and comedy all meshed together for a genuinely enjoyable night out. 

The two revelations here are principal dancers Bayley Graham and Olivia Graydon. Graham is Gene Kelly reincarnate; a fusion of furiously flawless tap rhythm and a stage presence so charismatic he could probably charm world peace into effect. Graydon’s Irish dance skills demonstrate strength, agility, speed and passion. She leads every scene with magnetism and a kickass green satin sash, commanding attention whenever she performs.

Collectively the cast is hypnotic- they dance with energy and zeal- it truly is a joy to watch them. Every single cast member looks like they are having the time of their life and that carries the atmosphere throughout the audience- the crowd equally enjoying themselves. Singer Tom Ball croons his way through classics including Whiskey in the Jar and an unsettlingly jaunty Fields of Athenry. His velvety voice is very much suited to proceedings, adding a touch of old-world glamour and skill. 

The show however is not perfect, and I disliked the fact there was no female soloist equivalent to Tom Ball.  Instead, Tom is given a troupe of female backing singers who I’m not sure really add to the proceedings simply because there are so many of them that their harmonsing gets a little lost in the mix. Aesthetically, I think they were going for mysterious Celtic spell casters in their long black cloaks, but in reality they pop up out of nowhere like a choir of Macbeth’s Weird Sisters then slink back into the shadows. 

The only other aspect I feel holds this show back from its full potential is the reliance on its previous success as a cruise ship show. It is evident from the safe mid-noughties popsong choices, smooth jazz and classic hits rather than modern boundary pushing genres to match the youth and energy of its cast. It feels like a security blanket but London audiences are diverse and expect more risks than that. An easy win, for example would be for a different MC in every city or region- imagine the variety you would get without having to actually change the core of the show’s concept. The live trio at the beginning, Fiddlin’ About are fun and it would be great for them to have been given more to do, as otherwise the show relies on pre-recorded backing tracks or Tom Ball’s excellent vocals. 

Ultimately this show is clearly a wholesome crowd pleaser, which is no mean feat given the diverse age rage of the audience on gala night. Whilst I personally would prefer more boundary pushing musical elements, the cast remains its strongest asset. The enthusiasm and delight emanating from them is infectious; they are clearly all afforded a sense of individuality to their choreography, meaning personality pleasantly overrides the need for rigid precision. In fact it could be said that the mop steals the show as the most charming character. Yes you read that right. Come see Emerald Storm – where even the props have charisma. 

IN CONVERSATION WITH:Dani Harris-Walters

Dani Harris-Walters is the creative force behind CompanyDHW, a Hip-Hop theatre company known for its focus on community, authenticity, and inclusivity. Dani is bringing his new show, Go Grandad Go!, to audiences as part of the Greenwich + Docklands International Festival.

This show is commissioned by FESTIVAL.ORG for GDIF and supported by Without Walls, the Manchester based arts organisation dedicated to creating, developing and touring innovative outdoor works. 

This free hip-hop dance show is a heart-warming, intergenerational story about family, culture, and redefining relationships across generations. This uplifting performance puts community, inclusivity, and high-energy hip-hop theatre centre stage, making it a show that will resonate with audiences of all ages.

You can catch Go Grandad Go! for free on Thursday 4th September, at the Greenwich + Docklands International Festival.

For more information:


Go Grandad Go! sounds both joyful and moving. What first inspired you to tell this story of family and generations through Hip-Hop theatre?

My own family to be honest. Sometimes I would take my mum & sisters to watch other shows and their response would be “It looked alright, but I didn’t understand anything”.  It made realise that there isn’t a lot of Hip Hop Theatre work that relate in an uplifting and entertaining way without being too thought-provoking or moody. I then present the idea of GGG to the creative team, we realised how similar our experiences with our grandparents, aunts and uncles were and how great it would be to present these stories on stage.

The show has been described as heart-warming and uplifting. Was there a particular moment in creating it that really captured that spirit for you?

I think every scene captures that heart-warming spirit but the journey scene for me stands out the most. Hearing the sounds of Lord Kitchener’s “London Is The Place For Me” fused with an eclectic jazzy house beat, seeing a proud Grandad interact and encourage his energetic and curious grandchildren, always brings a smile to my face (and I’ve watched this show many times.)

How do you balance the fun, high-energy side of Hip-Hop with the deeper, more emotional themes in the piece?

With the help of our dramaturg and co-writer, Ashley Joseph, we both use comedy as conduit to communicate and connect with audiences. Ashley has an amazing ability making emotional moments more meaningful and he is constantly reminding myself and the performers that we need to earn every moment, not matter how funny or sad.

You’re not only leading the show but also shaping it with your company, CompanyDHW. How does that sense of community and inclusivity guide your work on stage?

With the world always changing, it presents an opportunity to learn more and be more accessible, inclusive and innovative. As a company we are always thinking about how we can be more accessible and inclusive to audience that participate and spectate. At the moment we work regularly with youth groups and older social groups giving them the space to express creatively in a safe spaces with fun and enjoyment at the heart of it.

We work closely with our amazing vernacular artist and BSL interpreter Deborah McLeod and with this growing relationship she has connected us with a deaf actor Ryan Pendley who acts a consultant to help us reach and communicate with hearing impaired audiences more effectively. We have recently had workshop with audio describer Anne Hornsby and spent a day teaching us how to effectively deliver touch tours. We always try to give as much time and focus to accessibility because we understand how important it is to the experience of the audiences and its important to us to keep learning and get it right each time.

What do you hope audiences take away from Go Grandad Go! ?

We want just want to remind audiences that they are capable to succeed new challenges at any stage of their life.

REVIEW: Figures In Extinction


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“Every once in a while, a work of art humbly steps onstage, regards its audience with all the grief in the world, and then utterly stretches what anyone thought theatre could be or do.”


Every once in a while, something humbly steps onstage, regards its audience with all the grief in the world, and then utterly stretches what anyone thought theatre could be or do. Something that gives you hope that the most human part of humans – not machines – will save us, if not physically, then spiritually. Something that shifts the innermost shade at the core of the soul, just enough to see something flickering and pulsing, reassuringly animal-like and universal, expertly and habitually sewn shut beneath the hem of the garment we call “daily life.” 

Just as Figures in Extinction perforates whatever standards we had for “good” theatre, so too does it challenge the very nature of a critic’s review. As I stare up from the base of this behemoth, it seems more fitting to write some poetry instead. But for now, I’ll stick to the form I know best and simply encourage anyone who sees it to let it spark their own imaginations in the way the piece clearly wants.

Figures in Extinction is the fruit of a multi-year collaboration between acclaimed Canadian choreographer Crystal Pite and Complicité founder and theatre legend Simon McBurney. Perched somewhere on the dance-theatre continuum, the piece is divided into three parts – the extinction of non-human beings, the troubling neuroscience of behavior, and human mortality. Performed by Nederlands Dans Theater, Figures transcends traditional climate communication, grinding the pages of heavy natural history textbooks and oblique science journals into new colors and sounds for new compositions and symphonies. In one breathtaking swoop, it elevates non-human beings to spectators and reduces humans to the scientific probings of a petri dish. Quite simply, it has created a new language with which to effectively articulate the nastiest of today’s truths: how humans have adapted to ignore the destruction we cause. 

There are ingenious details hidden in this piece that could only be unpacked in the span of a short novel – how the sound design actively takes advantage of the very neuroscience the show explains; how the set – an ever-shifting black frame mimics and manipulates the limited focus of a human brain; how the dancers tick so precisely in harmony with every beat and sigh of the aural landscape that everything feels reverently interconnected from the moment it begins. When a piece is this detailed, it vibrates. 

When I woke up the following morning, this piece was still with me. It was in the water I splashed on my face and ran through my hair. It was in the  coffee I drank as I tried to write. In the cheeps of birds bubbling up through the window, letting the world outside greet the one inside. Whatever NDT, Crystal Pite, and Simon McBurney have gifted us in this piece, it doesn’t feel like a tissue with which  to wipe our eyes. It feels like a reason for which to open them.

Figures in Extinction is a part of the 2025 Edinburgh International Festival and playing until 24 August. Get tickets here: http://www.eif.co.uk/events/figures-in-extinction


REVIEW: Venus 2.0


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Stunning visual intensity in a dark contemporary style.


VENUS 2.0 follows the story of Mary Richardson, a suffragette who later became a fascist and leader of the women’s section of the British Union of Fascists. The name of the show comes from the actions of Mary as a suffragette, when she vandalised Velázquez’s painting, The Rokeby Venus, at London’s National Gallery (the same painting that was targeted by environmental activists in 2023).

Mary Richardson is thrust into a time-travelling cabaret as we hear from those involved in futurism and the fascist movement. This is an exploration of a radical ideology through contemporary dance that is captivating in its intensity. Voice overs are played as the actions unfold using physical theatre; this creates an eerie atmosphere where danger feels as though it is lurking behind the curtain. We are also treated to lighter comedic moments throughout, taking the audience on a rollercoaster of emotions.

Beautiful shapes and creative blending of movement with shadow and light, paired with a mixture of classical, operatic, and modern music, makes this a stunning visual piece. The simple staging was transformed by the use of physical bodies as tools for storytelling.

VENUS 2.0 was a dark and mesmerising performance that would appeal to those who enjoy the exploration of hard-hitting themes through dance.

VENUS 2.0 is at the Edinburgh Fringe until 24th August at Main House at ZOO Southside. Buy your tickets here: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/venus-2-0


FEATURE: Reaching New Heights: The Genesis by Copenhagen Collective

This September, Sadler’s Wells’ Peacock Theatre welcomes Copenhagen Collective with The Genesis (3–6 September, 7.30pm), a breathtaking celebration of human connection and world-class acrobatics.

Fresh from its UK premiere at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival as part of The Danish Showcase, The Genesis brings together 16 international artists from across the globe — including Denmark, Australia, Peru, Canada, Uruguay, Chile, Portugal, USA, Germany, Ireland, France, and the UK — in a show that is as uplifting as it is visually spectacular.

A Global Gathering of Strength and Storytelling

At its heart, The Genesis is about the power of collaboration. Through daring feats of balance, flight, and strength, the performers create a living landscape of trust, conflict, and resolution. The work is not just about physical spectacle — it is a heartfelt exploration of what it means to rely on one another, celebrating difference as strength and interdependence as resilience.

“Bodies meeting become the living proof of the strength of human connection,” says the company, and it is this belief that drives the hour-long journey.

Acrobatic Theatre Reimagined

Performed on a stage transformed by ethereal lighting design from Stefan Goldbaum Tarabini and an original score by composer Leif Jordansson, The Genesis shifts seamlessly between the atmosphere of a cathedral and the pulsing energy of nightlife. The soundtrack, blending classical violin and piano with jazz, blues, and club-inspired beats, envelops the audience in a world both mystical and deeply human.

From stacked towers of performers to gravity-defying tumbles, the show layers storytelling with jaw-dropping physical artistry, drawing audiences of all ages into a world where cooperation triumphs over division.

From Copenhagen to the World

The Genesis premiered at Baltoppen LIVE in Copenhagen in 2024 and has already toured internationally to acclaim, with appearances at Festival Mueca (Spain), Stora Teatern (Sweden), Festival Montréal Complètement Cirque (Canada), and Riga Cirks (Latvia). London now has its chance to witness this extraordinary company as they continue their journey across Europe and beyond.

An Experience for All Generations

Moving, joyous, and filled with awe-inspiring physicality, The Genesis is suitable for audiences aged 6 and up, making it an inspiring evening for families as well as theatre lovers seeking a fresh take on contemporary circus.


📍 Copenhagen Collective: The Genesis
Peacock Theatre, London
Wednesday 3 – Saturday 6 September 2025, 7.30pm
Press Night: Wednesday 3 September

⏱ Running Time: 60 minutes
👤 Age Recommendation: 6+ (contains strobe lighting and haze)

For tickets and further information, visit: thegenesis.dk


REVIEW: The Joystick and The Reins


Rating: 4 out of 5.

Eve Stainton’s unhurried study of surveillance and suppression is brutally hypnotic.


The Joystick and The Reins is a new, mostly solo work from Mancunian performance artist Eve Stainton premiering at Bold Tendencies in Peckham. The arts centre’s unique architecture as a converted multi-storey car park provides the perfect location for a work that seeks to investigate authoritarianism and the construction of threat. 

Stainton moves at an immensely slow pace. They melt between various anguished positions: pointing a finger derisively, pumping fists in the air like a football ultra, cowering into the floor. It’s deceptive in its simplicity, but demanding on the body. Each tremble and twitch grows wearier through the hour long meditation.

A heavy tension pervades the work with a live rendition of Ennio Morricone’s dread-filled score for the 1981 body horror classic The Thing, courtesy of the Sinfonia Smith Square. This union of leaden movement and eery music makes for a rather stifling and uncomfortable viewing experience — particularly during a clammy heatwave. Over the course of the hour Stainton is increasingly weighed down by urban detritus and objects of surveillance. An empty jerry can is attached to a conference phone wire belt around the waist. They carry around a tyre while a CCTV camera is duct-taped onto their wrist. The plants in the audience are totally pedestrian, almost humdrum in their manner, as they burden Stainton with more weight.

In a time when protest in Britain is becoming increasingly fraught — one only needs to see the Tory and Labour governments’ successive attempts to clamp down on ‘disruptive’ protest — The Joystick and The Reins feels hotly relevant. It is a work that finds itself in the wake of what has been a year of protest, with the rise of right-wing nationalist demonstrations across the UK and the arrest of hundreds of protestors in support of the now proscribed Palestine Action. London saw its largest ever demonstration in support of Trans rights only a month ago. The city’s deep ties to protest and government surveillance serves as a figurative and literal backdrop to the work; the towering skyline is in plain view from the building.

Inspired by Crime Watch episodes and footage from riots, Stainton’s breakdown from hooliganistic boogeyman to human puddle is a compelling, gruelling watch. What really draws us in is the atmosphere: the harsh edges of the concrete space in halogen lighting, the snarl of the trains passing through Peckham Rye, Morricone’s score blending with echoing speakers from the streets. The complicity of the bystander is especially interesting. Construction workers do odd jobs and stage hands direct each other on walkie talkies in plain view of the audience, all while Stainton continues to squirm like a tortured soul in limbo. 
These slow-burn thrills contribute to the magnetism of The Joystick and The Reins. Stainton’s statuesque movement is store with a vulnerability and humanity that has us wishing for their torture to end, yet we find ourselves hypnotised by their suffering — you almost feel a little morally stained for being so hooked.

FEATURE: The Genesis by Copenhagen Collective


This September, the Peacock Theatre will become a place where gravity isn’t a rule but a suggestion, and where 16 acrobats from across the globe will attempt something even more ambitious than their mid-air feats: to make human connection visible.

From 3–6 September 2025, Copenhagen Collective bring The Genesis to London for its West End run, fresh from a month-long UK premiere at the Edinburgh Fringe as part of The Danish Showcase. This isn’t circus in the traditional, big-top sense. Instead, it’s an hour-long dive into what happens when bodies meet in space — sometimes clashing, sometimes embracing, and how difference can become the strongest bond of all.

The performers’ passports read like an atlas: Denmark, Australia, Peru, Canada, the UK, Uruguay, Chile, Portugal, USA, Germany, Ireland, France, and Argentina. It’s no accident. The Collective, formed in Copenhagen in 2024, is a deliberate experiment in diversity — a team of acrobats who have built a language of movement without borders.

Onstage, that global perspective becomes physical. Performers stack, tumble, and spin through a shifting emotional landscape, from tense, fracturing moments to scenes of effortless synchrony. It’s part raw athleticism, part tender storytelling — with no single “lead” but a shared centre of gravity that belongs to everyone.

Lighting designer Stefan Goldbaum Tarabini has shaped the visual world to feel like a collision between a mystical cathedral and the pulsating glow of a nightclub. It’s both sacred and electric — a place where you might meditate one moment and dance the next.

Composer Leif Jordansson’s score mirrors this hybridity, weaving together classical violin and piano with jazz, blues, and club-inspired beats. Voices — sometimes singing, sometimes reciting, moving through the music like another set of acrobats, bending and blending into the action.

Beneath the flips and flights, The Genesis has a quieter message: that in a time of division, strength comes from leaning on each other. “As individuals we can only achieve so much alone” is not just a line from the show’s creative notes — it’s the architecture of the whole piece. Every lift depends on more than one pair of hands. Every precarious balance is possible because someone else is holding steady.

This ethos has been carried across continents since the show’s world premiere at Baltoppen LIVE in Copenhagen last July, through festivals in Spain, Sweden, Canada, and Latvia. Everywhere, the production has drawn audiences not just for its skill but for the way it reframes circus as a metaphor for community.

Whether you’re six or sixty, there’s something in The Genesis that lands. For younger viewers, the stunts will dazzle; for adults, the metaphor might hit closer to home. It’s a reminder that while individual brilliance has its place, the real magic happens when we build something together.

Listing: https://www.sadlerswells.com/whats-on/copenhagen-collective-the-genesis/

REVIEW: VOYEUR / SAMBA AND LOVE


Rating: 5 out of 5.

An expertly conceived and brilliantly executed dance piece about the steady rise of authoritarianism – if you’re wondering what to watch at the Fringe this year, count yourself lucky that you’re here while this piece is and get yourself a ticket.


This dance piece from São José dos Campos Dance Company was a highlight of my 2025 Edinburgh Fringe. It’s difficult to imagine a universe in which this piece and its brilliant company do not get picked up by the end of this run.

In true Fringe fashion, I met the Artistic Director and Resident Choreographer Lili de Grammont in the Fringe-wild on my first day at the festival. She told me about her show – how she’s worked hard to bring these young dancers and this piece all the way from Brazil and how she hopes for a life for it beyond Edinburgh. 

After watching it, I feel a bit like a chosen one. I thank the creative gods that they, for whatever reason, fated me to watch this single hour of transcendent artistry.

Voyeur / Samba and Love is a high-octane double bill that examines how systems and forces larger than us use and abuse our attention. Voyeur pulses with an arresting soundscape by award-winning Brazilian film composer Ed Côrtes (City of God) and quickly reveals a thrilling ensemble of eight uniquely built and deeply connected dancers. Through the theme of voyeurism, it unpacks the ways in which we have been conditioned to observe highly charged events more than we actively respond to them. 

A testament to the ingenious conception and execution of this piece, it wasn’t difficult to draw a line from what was unfolding before us to any number of issues outside those studio doors currently bleeding our lives dry of meaning or moral backbone. 

The second piece – Samba and Love – was a seamless compliment to the first, picking apart the theme of burnout. Once again, I felt like I was watching a masterclass in stylistic synergy. Every choice was sleek and intentional – from the costumes to the lighting, which immediately evoked the pale blue glow of a computer screen. Every detail had a meaning, every visual cue – including the striking turquoise inflatable couch – was on a mission to subconsciously round out each of the other stylistic choices. Together, these two pieces created a stunning one-two punch of a message: how we can break under the weight of contemporary pressures on our attention; but also how we can choose to remake ourselves despite all of the noise. 

Just after the first piece (and a standing ovation), Grammont took the stage. Before the second half, we would listen to a song together, an original English version of Samba e Amor by Brazilian singer Chico Buarque, which was released on his self-titled 1970 album. At the time that Buarque released the album, Brazil was six years into a military dictatorship that was focused on economic might (the “Brazilian Miracle”). Its leader, President General Emílio Garrastazu Médici, was known for violent suppression of political dissent. At a time when free speech was severely limited, Grammont explained, it fell on artists like Buarque to speak out in ways that only the veil of art and poetry might protect them. Dance, Grammont continued, offers a similar way to speak without speaking, to carry on that real political legacy and purpose that all art contains within it, however deeply buried it might be. 

As the dancers prepared for the second half in the shadowy edges of the room, the storytelling guts behind Voyeur / Samba and Love – a veiled cry against the steady rise of authoritarian government and suppression of free speech – was clear, even before we finished listening to Grammont herself croon the final lyrics of Buarque’s chilling song.

If you’re wondering what to watch at the Fringe this year, count yourself lucky that you’re here while this piece is and get yourself a ticket.

Voyeur / Samba and Love is a part of the Edinburgh Fringe and playing at Assembly @ DanceBase, until 24 Aug (not Mon & Tue), 1pm. Get tickets here: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/voyeur-samba-and-love