Category Archives: Dance

Art, Circus, Dance, Festivals, Musical, Theatre, Uncategorized

Review, Swamplesque, Trigger Happy Productions, Assembly Main Hall, Ed Fringe, By Hannah Goslin

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out of 5 stars (5 / 5)

Rarely have I been in a situation when a review is hard to write because it is such perfection. 

I very much booked this on a whim; I saw plenty talking about this, from fringe contemporaries to general public and as a cabaret, burlesque obsessive and millenial who grew up with and watches Shrek on repeat for comfort, I also couldn’t resist. 

Most burlesque shows run for a couple of hours, with interval and presenters. But at Fringe, this isn’t an option and actually, the consistant pace the show is forced into just helps with keeping the laughter coming. Not that there is a problem with that in the first place. 

As the name suggests, this burlesque show is a satirical take, with drag, burlesque, rude jokes and phenominal singing of Shrek, condensed to one hour with highlight triggers. From pop culture references or if you have just seen Shrek an ungodly amount of time, you’re already speaking the words along with the audio; the surprises and their take on them are all the more funny with extensive knowledge and they have chosen something so brilliant to be creative and get the audience going. 

Transitions are smooth and we are thrown in from the start. Innuendo is writhe and the little details to create jokes are well planned and thought out. And the actual skill of the performers is a gold star – they are professional, having fun and extremley talented. I have probably never been to a show when, the next act comes on and i’m laughing at the sheer impressiveness of their choice and conduct or saying “No F***ing way!”. I was entirely engaged and so was every audience member, by the sounds of the cheers, the singing along, the laughter and clapping. It’s a wonder the Assembly Main Hall is still in tact. 

Swamplesque is everything I wanted it to be and more. Not a foot wrong, so extremely clever in execution, creation and thought, they were meticulous in their choices and artistic direction and I had THE BEST time. Now to go away and question all my thoughts and feelings…

Art, Dance, Theatre, Uncategorized

Review, FAMEHUNGRY, Louise Orwin, Summerhall, Ed Fringe, By Hannah Goslin

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out of 5 stars (5 / 5)

Tik Tok and social media has taken over our lives. I’ve not escaped this, despite my “I don’t do insta” or “I’ll never go on Tik Tok”… trying to be cool, “old” and against the grain but I caved long ago. And owning it in embarrassment. More only as a voyeur and posting adventures. 

Performance artist Louise Orwin takes this concept and runs the other way with it. As a known (at times) controversial artist (and trust when I say that with entire adoration), Orwin looks at her years of life while in her late 30’s and her choices, other’s choices and the world and asks – did she do all of this to be famous? And is it too late to still be famous?

She begins this as an obscure social experiment. Those who do use Tik Tok will instantly recognise the absurdity she conducts as the usual on this platform but others may think she has either lost her mind or doing some avant-garde performance. The former is felt by 800+ people at the time, as we realise she is live on Tik Tok and performing. Some actively say she needs help; some can’t believe what they are seeing; some think she’s an icon; some are blowing her cover and announcing it is a performance. This live, changeable interaction is likely new every night but also likely to be the same sentiments. When she does anything against the community rules of the app, she gets kicked off Tik Tok, all too soon. She was only licking a lollipop! But there’s jeopardy to this approach and anything could happen. 

To the side of the stage is a pink haired person on a screen – Jax. Jax comes fom working with Orwin outside of the show and eventually, is her “guru” in all things gen z and Tik Tok. Jax has a huge following and the discourse of how this was achieved is discussed, touching upon how children are sexualised on the app and almost forced to grow up all too quickly. But is it for money? Not really. Recognition? Not really. Fame? Who knows. Orwin balances these thoughts between action on stage, on screens and with a written commentary noting projected at the back on forced performance, and uneasy feelings about her life on the web. 

Orwin is frank and open, clear about the complexities in her head but also brings high-level physical theatre to the stage – all live to not only us but random people on an app – and interestingly, after getting kicked off and using another account, simply running on a treadmill racks those likes back up again. Tik Tok is now this bizarre world wide phenomenon that Orwin has been doing on stage for years. Is it competition? Will it make her famous?

With intense spoken word, the physicality and all the existential discussion around the topic, FAMEHUNGRY is entirely captivating. It is thought provoking, perfection and sheer brilliance. And is raising the important questions with no final conclusion at the end – because to go against the grain is to be left behind, but to go with it creates an uncomfortable feeling. What do they decide to do? Just to keep going. Because, what else is there?

Dance, Theatre

Review Karol Cysewski in association with Hijinx Theatre & Chapter presents: Requiem by Matt Gough

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Requiem (Cysewski) Immerses us  labyrinth of hospital curtains (Brown), and a tinnitus-like soundscape of voices, tones, and reverberating melodies (Orgon). We are led through a constantly shifting space by six performers (Cicolani, Clark, Fedorovykh, Relf, Rust, Tadd) and dynamic lighting (Moore). The proximity of this promenade performance reminds us of our (in)action as we witness abstracted fragments of care, hope, and despair.  

Movement, and spoken words occur throughout the space, at times forcing us to make a choice of who, or what to observe. Do we leave someone alone without care? or follow caregivers as they navigate  the needs of others and themselves. 

The spoken text offers limited insights into the lived experiences of people with learning disabilities under NHS care. Instead we are invited to meditate on touch as a medium for communicating needs, and observe its failure to be understood  in tender, emotional vignettes. 

Requiem drifts between highlighting the general reduced life expectancy, and the impact of COVID of people with learning disabilities and/or autism. The lack of distinction serves the audience well, allowing us to reflect on our memories and experiences of COVID. 

Data on mortality rates is repeated throughout the performance, sometimes spoken aloud, other times whispered into individual audience members’ ears. Both publicly, and personally we are given no room to escape the information, and experiences being shared with us. Each moment is a requiem for those who have died, especially the lives that have been lost early, and avoidably (42%). 

Cysewski, and Harris  reference data from Learning from Lives and Deaths (LeDeR) in the performance text, and promotional materials. Whilst a knowledge of this research is not essential to understanding Requiem , it grounds the abstracted narrative in an ongoing call for action and change. But it is here that I question the decision to partially excise information on gender differences, and fully omit ethnicity differences from the performance text (and casting). A requiem for the disabled should honour the intersections of identities.

Outside of the Unity festival we see too little inclusive dance work from professional companies in Wales. I hope in the future we will see more, and performances that have disabled people in senior creative roles. 

Requiem

Chapter, Cardiff

5th July 2024

Choreographer: Karol Cysewski

Designer: Ruby Brown

Lighting Designer: Sophie Erin Moore

Sound Designer: Sion Orgon

Dramaturg / Additional Text: Simon Harris

Producer: Simon Harris

Performers: Gaia Cicolani, Gareth Clark, Kseniia Fedorovykh, Aaron Relf, Harlan Rust, Andrew Tadd

Dance, Theatre

Review Requiem at Chapter, Cardiff, Karol Cysewski, in association with Hijinx Theatre and Chapter by Nick Davies

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Life expectancy for a neurodivergent person in Britain is anything between 14 and 18 years shorter than the rest of the population. This issue was further exacerbated by Covid when risk of death was more than three times greater for disabled people. Choreographer Karol Cysewski explores this startling inequality in our health system with three neurodivergent performers and three dancers. The resulting work, Requiem, is a meditative, almost spiritual lament for those lost, and yet it retains a hopefulness, a stirring refusal to give in, that inspires and provokes.

Chapter is a contemporary arts centre at the heart of its Cardiff community – performers Clark, Tadd and Relf attend the Hijinx Academy there each week – and yet it was carved out of the remnants of a turn-of-the-twentieth-century school. From the beginning of Requiem it again becomes an institution from the Victorian age – cracked red brick and bath tile walls harking to an outdated hospital system in need of change. As we enter the foyer, we see trails of fingers running along wire-enforced windowpanes – behind the glass, bedecked in white, there are ghosts, demons, possibly angels. Cicolani, Fedorvykh and Rust lead us further inside the main promenade space.

Ruby Brown’s design – a maze of hospital curtains – is a dark fever dream of a set, lit cinematically by Sophie Erin Moore. It is nightmarish, all rails and cloth and upturned beds. It tells of a labyrinthine system impossible to navigate. It is easy to become lost, disoriented, in the half-lit space.

Requiem is a series of vignettes played out in these small, curtained voids. Gareth Clark, Andrew Tadd and Aaron Relf contend with the dancers for attention, for their voices to be heard. Much of this communication is physical, Cysewski’s choreography pushing and pulling them against and among the dancers in white. Cicolani, Fedorovykh and Rust are at times grim reaper, at times healthcare workers desperately trying to work out how to help their patients. An especially poignant moment is when Harlan Rust’s doctor frustratedly asks Andrew Tadd how he expects to be helped if he can’t say what’s wrong with him. It is a small moment that speaks volumes of the dangers faced by people with communication barriers, and the lack of time and resources afforded NHS staff. Although a dance piece, Requiem may have benefitted from more of these verbal exchanges. Aaron Relf’s Shakespeare soliloquy as he is pulled further into the darkness is deeply moving, even chilling, forming the words as if an almost silent prayer. Gareth Clark simply saying, “I want to live,” reminds us that the threat to our neurodivergent community within the healthcare system is not just a shameful statistic but a very pertinent, heartbreaking threat to each individual.

For all the horror (an especially resonant image is a patient being grabbed by disembodied limbs emerging from under his bed) Cysewski’s choreography, backed magnificently by Sion Orgon’s ecclesiastical soundscape, is wonderfully meditative, allowing the audience to process the difficult truths with which they are confronted. When all six performers conjoin and glide around one another there are moments of genuine beauty and joy amidst the madness. And in the performances of Clark, Relf and Tadd there are moments of real, raging defiance.

Requiem
Chapter, Cardiff
4th-6th July 2024 at Chapter, Cardiff
Choreographer: Karol Cysewski
Designer: Ruby Brown
Lighting Designer: Sophie Erin Moore
Sound Designer: Sion Orgon
Dramaturg / Additional Text: Simon Harris
Producer: Simon Harris
Performers: Gaia Cicolani, Gareth Clark, Kseniia Fedorovykh, Aaron Relf, Harlan Rust, Andrew Tadd
Running time: 1 hour

Dance, Theatre

Requiem, a review by Eva Marloes

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out of 5 stars (4.5 / 5)

Dance choreographer Karol Cysewski has successfully designed an immersive experience through dance and theatre that conveys the unequal healthcare treatment people with learning disabilities receive, which results in thousands of avoidable deaths every year. (My interview with Cysewski is available here.) 

The strength of the show comes from the careful assembling of different elements to create powerful tableaux of patients who are examined, manipulated, neglected. At the centre of the scene and yet unheard. The actors from Hijinx Theatre add veracity to it. Aaron Relf is neurodivergent, Andrew Tadd and Gareth Clark have Down syndrome. Relf conveys a subtle anguish, Tadd has a strong presence on the scene, and Clark plays with the dancers with ease.

The skillful dancing by Gaia Cicolani, Kseniia Fedorovykh, and Harlan Rust employs a range of movements, gentle, precise, then deforming of faces and forms, to frantic and convulsive. The excellent sound design by Sion Orgon plays a key role in creating dark and haunting scenes where dancers and actors come together and apart.

Very powerful are also the set design by Ruby Brown and the lighting design by Sophie Moore immersing us in an uncomfortable mist, where pools of light and hospital curtains play alongside actors, dancers, and sound. The curtains get opened and closed to show us the pain, to cover or cover up the neglect, to signify death.

Yet the show is not perfect, largely due to a didactic and weak text. Most might find this to be a minor flaw, yet I believe it is an element that detracts from the power of the piece and that can be reviewed. The text is too wordy lacking poignancy. Numbers and statistics paint a general picture devoid of the personal concrete experience of a character. Art conveys universal truths through the particular experience of characters.  

Paradoxically, as someone who has worked in the third and public sector, I know how  important it is to ensure the voice of disabled people is included in reports and campaigning material through quotes or interviews. The medical and social context for the show could have been dealt with in the programme or in a prologue. The weak text makes the show more haunting than moving, but well worth watching.

Dance

An interview with Karol Cysewski, choreographer of Requiem, by Eva Marloes

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Ineluctable part of life, death comes to us all. Yet, many deaths are premature and avoidable. People with learning disability are much more likely to die from an avoidable cause. The signs are missed, people are ignored, neglected, because they cannot speak, they cannot communicate their discomfort, pain, or even just hunger and thirst. They die not because of their disability, but because our healthcare system is not inclusive. 

According to the 2022 Learning Disabilities Mortality Review (LeDeR), 42% of deaths of people with a learning disability were avoidable. Dance choreographer Karol Cysewski tells their story in Requiem, an immersive dance-theatre performance in collaboration with Hijinx Theatre.

I talk to Cysewski in the Seligman Studio at Chapter, set up with hospital beds and curtains. He tells me he wants to engage the audience and make them think about the unequal treatment people with learning disabilities receive. It is often, says Cysewski, the result of “somebody just didn’t think about somebody else. They were too busy and had no imagination.”

A nurse finishing their shift not thinking that the nurse coming in the next shift doesn’t know the specific needs of the patient. “They don’t know how to say ‘I’m thirsty,’ she’s busy and she’s not imaginative enough to imagine that that might happen.” That’s all it takes. Being attentive.

Being attentive is what Cysewski has been doing while teaching at Hijinx Theatre. In his work with people with learning disabilities, he has learned to treat them as people first. 

“Slow down, if you need,” says Cysewski, “and give them achievable tasks. That applies to anyone. Treating people as people first not worrying about their disability. That would apply to anyone.” 

In doing the show, Cysewski has learned about the skills and strengths of each individual actor and what they find more challenging. That might include going to lie on the bed. 

Talking about one particular actor,  Cysewski says, “I’m learning how to give time, how to take time and space for him to learn, because eventually he learns, but he needs more repetition and continuity. I’m learning not to change (what to do), give them different ideas during rehearsals.”

I ask Cysewski what is like for the Hijinx actors to work with professional dancers. he tells me that “working with professional dancers challenges the actors more and it has a better effect.” For instance, they are more comfortable leaning against a professional dancer than another actor. “It makes them look like they’re trained dancers.”

There’s still a long way to go for disabled people to be fully included. Much of the work lies in training healthcare and social care staff in how to communicate effectively with people with learning disabilities.

Requiem uses light, sound, movement, but also smell to stimulate the senses of the audience and invite them to think about how lack of inclusivity leads to avoidable deaths. The message of Requiem is one of compassion. Not in the sense of feeling for sorry for the person, but to acknowledge the dignity of the human being in front of us.

Requiem opens on the 4th of July at Chapter Arts Centre. For tickets, see Chapter.

Dance, Festivals, Theatre

Review: Bacchae: Prelude to a Purge, Marlene Monteiro Freitas, LIFT Festival, Sadlers Wells, By Hannah Goslin

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out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

Clowning. Bouffon. Alienation effect. Utter chaos and hilarity. Marlene Monteiro Freitas brings us 2+ hours of what would seem to be utter craziness on stage. But really, this is a very clever and interesting performance.

It isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. This is very clear when some leave at different points throughout and the lack of interval seems, at the beginning, overwhelming. But it is certainly one of those productions where you need to fully give over to the madness, and it is a lot of fun, evoking and interesting.

Taking inspiration from Euripides, The Bacchae, we see the performers fight between beauty and the grotesque; peace and noise; the search for the calm amongst the chaos. This is seen in the many bodies, all undertaking something different; sometimes repetitive, sometimes unusual, but rarely the same. These are injected quickly and without much preamble to new “scenes”, where focus changes between performers, but the others always still being in view or supporting.

There is a sense of “dance” and certainly performance art, with times of extreme repetition which, at first seems simple but really, the contortion of body and the movement requires a lot of strength and skill. It seems not a bead of sweat is broken and it is effortless, confirming the skills of the performers. Crude and often lewd suggestions, revelations and gestures take place, alongside a provocative and uncensored but also beautiful video of a woman giving birth, which is clever in not only bringing us in but also in pushing us away. There is an element of Brecht and the alienation effect in the narrative and it works to some extent for the traditional theatre goer. The ups and downs of the production, the ebbs and flows all work together to create something dynamic, grotesque and yet wildly entertaining and thought provoking.

Bacchae: Prelude to a Purge is a roller coaster from start to end; at times drawing you in and other times trying to force you away. It is comical and dark, provoking and sometimes just a little lovingly stupid.

Dance, Theatre

Review Ballet Black: Heroes, Cassa Pancho, Barbican Theatre by Tanica Psalmist

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Cassa Pancho, the founder, Artistic dDirector & CEO of Ballet Black has again showcased raw, passionate and tightly synchronised works, with new choreography by Sophie Laplane and Mthuthzeli November. The first piece on the bill is entitled; About it First, exploring the themes ‘heroism & its complexities’ of everyday people, & everyone’s oblivion, inability & disservice to recognise heroic acts at times. We also witness competitiveness & vanity due to social media’s addictive streak in bringing out others ego in being recognised & acknowledged, as well as non-attempts to be seen and how everyone’s relationship with heroism plays out differently in the ordinary & the extraordinary.

The soundtrack includes music from Ludwig von Beethoven to Michelle Gurevich, with original sections composed by Tom Harold. The ambience throughout each dance set is eclectic & magnetic. The piece delved deeper into the themes; resolution, kindness, community orientation & mutual support, foretelling how heroism can act out in our daily lives. Each cast member’s unique tenacity combined with depth, energy and melody, additionally told a unique, empowering story of the human spirit. With sparkly jackets and other interesting detail to the Ballet Black casts outfits due to costume designer: Jessica Cabassa.

The second piece ‘The Waiting Game‘ offers a different spin of being torn between work-life balance, fine tuning between sanity & reality, navigating through uncertainty, collecting our thoughts & re-building strength, courage, rediscovering purpose and re-gaining hope.

The Waiting Game:

Choreography: Mthuthuzeli November

Music: The Waiting Game (2023) composed by Mthuthuzeli November & Alex Wilson

Lighting Design: David Plater. Original costume designs for 2020 by Peter Todd

Door Design: Richard Bolton & Phil Cristodolou

Dance, Opera & classical, Theatre

Review, The Sleeping Beauty, Birmingham Royal Ballet, Sadlers Wells, By Hannah Goslin

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out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

I am ashamed to admit that my knowledge and version of Sleeping Beauty is entirely from Disney. I’m used to the owl dancing in a coat, an impossible leaning cake (which I want for every birthday, even at 31 turning 32) and the big dragon. So when I came to this production, the storyline following, at times, a different path, it was like a new story for me.

These differences are subtle. But to summarise the story of The Sleeping Beauty in this production: a girl (Aurora) is cursed by an evil fairy, after she isn’t invited to her christening. When she pricks her finger on a spindle, she would fall into a 100 year sleep. And so up until her 16th birthday, all sharp objects are eliminated from the palace. The evil fairy manages to sneak a spindle in and Aurora falls to her fate. Only true loves kiss releases her, where she awakes to a beautiful marriage and guests of fairy-tale royalty.

In this day and age, we are so used to modernisation of tales, of a reinvention of tradition, and often this is refreshing and allows the story to be told in a new way. However, Birmingham Royal Ballet went against this grain and kept it very traditional. And this, in itself, was absolutely refreshing. The opulence of the stage, the set, the costumes was exquisite and gave me a goosebump-ed feeling of the days of old, where audiences dressed up to attend and were part of the elite. The beauty of this, is that, at a very affordable price, anyone could come to this production and get that exact feeling. They get to come and feel special, and that was evident in the eyes of many young children in attendance.

The stage had so many layers to it and rose so high, that we felt as if we were really in a grand European castle or palace, with all the pomp and circumstance, the historical costumes along with the beautiful and decadent tutus, allowing us to not only be transported in time but in place.

Accompanied by a live orchestra, the tradition continued with the accompaniment, but also felt extremely special. There’s something about live orchestral music that makes you shiver with awe and excitement, and the atmosphere it helped to create were effective with the change of the mood of the scene.

The dancing of course was spectacular. Not a foot was wrong and tradition continued to seep through in each member, whether a principal or in the background. The only qualm is that some more technically advanced moves that required balance did not always translate to the dancers face and so the panic and concern of this became evident and made that moment lose its magic somewhat.

The end of the story, we are treated to new characters who attend the wedding. Puss in Boots, The White Cat and Little Red Riding Hood are introduced, providing some giggles and some change of pace. It’s only at the end in the final bow that a few more appear in the guise of a Sultan and another furry creature. This was a little confusing and likely to do with some tradition in the ballet. However, it felt a little out of place and distracted somewhat from the celebration of the cast.

Overall, seeing traditional ballet and in the form of a story I thought I knew, but evidently did not, was magical and special. We were transported in time, in place and into a fairy tale world.

Dance

REVIEW, EDWARD SCISSORHANDS AT WALES MILLENNIUM CENTRE CARDIFF BY BARBARA MICHAELS

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Ballet, based on original story and film by Tim Burton
Adaptation: Caroline Thompson
Devised and directed by Matthew Bourne
Music; Danny Elfman and Terry Davies

out of 5 stars (4.5 / 5)

Making a welcome return to Cardiff, Edward Scissorhands is arguably not only the most hauntingly beautiful of Bourne’s innovative and unique productions but the most in depth and soul searching. Brought up to date with new music, the story of a boy that is different and as a result suffers jibes and discrimination, Bourne infuses this new production with an added poignancy cognisant with contemporary mores and awareness of mental health issues.

Based around the central character of a boy with an abnormality which causes him to face problems in the world – a world unknown and alien to him – Edward Scissorhands is complex and far from easy to relate in balletic form, although Bourne can be forgiven for the occasional grunt or shout. Created by an eccentric inventor, Edward is left unfinished with elongated scissors in place of hands when his creator unexpectedly dies, leaving him to face the challenges of an unknow world. As with all Bourne ballets, the dance is an amazing mix of classical and modern plus maximum use of mime, danced with empathy and expertise by Bourne’s New Adventure Company.

On Press night, the lithe and lissom Liam Mower, who back in 2015 first danced the central role of Edward – arguably one of the most difficult roles in Bourne’s diverse repertoire. – brings to the stage a knowledge and perception of the character, targeting the highs and lows of a young man who is desperate to be accepted despite fighting against prejudice and suspicion.

Not only do the principal dancers shine, but the whole of Bourne’s young and enthusiastic New Adventures Company show expertise in the different dance genres, segueing seamlessly from one to the other, under the tuition of New Adventures Take Part Creative Director Kerry Biggin who on opening night in Cardiff, danced the principal female role of Peg Boggs, the young housewife who befriends Edward. Opposite her, Dominic North dances a self-assured Bill Boggs.

Bourne’s choreography, inclusive of both the lifts and Grandes jetés of classical ballet and bang up to date acrobatics of street dance (seen also in Bourne’s ballet The Car Man) is in this respect unique. Lez Brotherston’s atmospheric set designs make an important contribution to the success of this ballet, aided and abetted by Howard Harrison’s atmospheric lighting. Worth noting that Brotherston also designed the great costumes.

Overall, a ballet that with a dark element yet with comic touches throughout that lighten the load. Does Edward overcome the problems of the title? It would be a spoiler to tell!