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.
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.
Stacey Alleaume as Violetta in La Traviata, photo by Julian Guidera
(3.5 / 5)
In the past week, the documentary In Plain Sight, an investigation by Channel 4’s Dispatches and the Sunday Times, has alleged that comedian turned wellness guru Russell Brand is responsible for exploitative treatment of women, including rape and sexual assault. Just like when the #MeToo movement emerged, many have questioned the women speaking out. Women are still exploited by powerful men and their sexuality is still policed.
La Traviata couldn’t be more topical. Verdi’s opera was shocking in depicting and taking the side of a ‘fallen woman’, what today might be an escort. Alas, the unimaginative direction, originally by Sir David McVicar, here by Sarah Crisp, makes it look preposterous and bizarre.
Violetta, a courtesan, meets Alfredo at a lavish party. She decides to leave that life and live with Alfredo supporting their life together financially. Unbeknown to Alfredo, his father asks Violetta to leave his son to protect his and his family’s reputation.
Stacey Alleaume as Violetta and Mark S Ross as Giorgio Germont in La Traviata, photo by Julian Guidera
Violetta leaves Alfredo who feels spurned and acts his revenge by throwing money at her in public to repay her. Verdi thinks she has a dignity and should be respected.
It is none other than Alfredo’s father who defends her and condemns his own son for disrespecting her. Yet, only at the very end Alfredo learns that Violetta sacrificed their love and life together for his reputation. He comes back to see her dying.
The WNO’s traditional setting fails to convey Verdi’s intention. The choice of a very dark set design, presumably to symbolise impending doom, has a jarring effect on the opening scene whose frivolity and joviality are dampened. It weakens the unfolding of the tragedy and frustrates the solid performances of the artists.
David Junghoon Kim shines as Alfredo, just as he did as the Duke in Rigoletto. He is at home with Verdi and gives a performance full of pathos. His beautiful tonality and powerful voice deliver longing and sorrow effectively. Stacey Alleaume as Violetta has a splendid coloratura. She’s at ease on high notes and bel canto. In the ‘croce e delizia’ duet with Alfredo in Act I, she seemed often overpowered by David Junghoon Kim when singing at a lower range. She is stronger in the second act with Mark S Ross, playing Alfredo’s father Giorgio Germont, and the final dying scene. Mark S Ross has a beautiful baritone voice. He gives an excellent performance.
The WNO’s chorus is strong as ever. The orchestra, under the baton of Alexander Joel, gives a solid, albeit uninspiring, performance.
David Junghoon Kim and Stacey Alleaume in La Traviata, photo by Julian Guidera.
As the lockdown confined us into our homes, choreographers and performance artists began exploring how to do dance digitally. Choreographer Matteo Marfoglia decided instead to bring socially-distanced dance to people who were especially vulnerable: people in care homes and in hospitals.
The project, funded by the Arts Council Stabilisation Fund, is an adaptation of Matteo’s 2016 show Crossword, which was a co-production between National Dance Company Wales and Festival of Voice, uses dialogues as music. During lockdown Matteo kept trying to think of what he could still do without necessarily using video, as soon as it would be legal to do so. He says,
“A lot of arts was going towards the digitalised form. I couldn’t find myself in that world yet. I asked myself ‘What can I still do that makes me feel I can contribute something and which doesn’t necessarily need to go digital’?”
“I woke up at three in the morning and said ‘we can do that!’. There is no contact between dancers in Crossword. I began to think of what places might be in most need of art. I initially thought of hospitals and health settings.”
Crossword became an opportunity to bring dance to people who might be at a particularly vulnerable time in their lives, but also people who might have never seen contemporary dance. That included one of the residents in a care home, who was a 94-year-old ballerina in the Royal Ballet.
“She was a dancer in the Royal Ballet and her daughter was also a dancer in the Royal Ballet. She said, ‘I have never seen contemporary dance. I’m so glad I got to see contemporary dance.’.”
Matteo tells me that the music gathered people like an invisible smoke insinuating itself inside the hospital. He says,
“In hospitals, chefs from the kitchen and nurses were clasping a cup of tea on their break came to watch the show. They were watching it through the windows so there was no interaction. For residents in care homes, the show was also an opportunity to be outside and talk to someone they didn’t know, and watch something new to them. Some people had never seen contemporary dance.”
Matteo wondered how best to enter that world with dance and movement. He felt it was a little ‘naughty’ intrusion because people would normally expect the beautiful music and graceful movement of ballet. They got something very different: an emotional journey that goes beyond a story and uses words as music.
In Crossword, the music is made of dialogues in the Italian language. The show was first designed around the theme of voice, to be part of the Festival of Voice. Matteo wanted to explore how to turn dialogues into music.
“At that point I was interested in dialogues and how voices in dialogues can be music, not just as a song or needing an instrument. I worked a lot with Italian dialogues, taking fragments from different conversations. From that we created a soundtrack.”
“The dancers were all British so they didn’t understand what was going on and I didn’t tell them.
We really used it as music. We devised the show for them to respond physically and emotionally.”
The first reaction in most audiences was the search for meaning and some found it frustrating. He tells me,
“We always look for meaning in language for us to connect to it. How can we find a way to emotionally connect through a language that we don’t understand, through something that is not the meaning, so is it the tone? The speed in which people talk, which triggers an emotion?
“For me it was trying to connect both the performers and the audience to an emotional state which goes beyond the literal understanding of words, but more about how the words are being said.
“One of the residents said ‘once the journey started I forgot that that was language.’ Once they let go of meaning, it started to be sound. It became an emotional journey.”
Contemporary dance is still largely ‘different’ for most of us. It has no straight narrative, or no narrative at all. For many, it is like a foreign language. Crossword has been an opportunity to embrace that ‘foreignness’, a ‘foreignness’ that has multiple dimensions. Crossword made use of the ‘foreignness’ of Italian language to create music and movement; it drew on the ‘foreignness’ of contemporary dance and music made of dialogues to bring the audience through an emotional journey; and it took contemporary dance to a foreign land, that of hospitals and care homes, who have been at the centre of the pandemic and where, perhaps more than anywhere else, body and mind need healing.
Creating opportunities for a diverse range of people to experience and respond to sport, arts, culture and live events. / Lleisiau amrywiol o Gymru yn ymateb i'r celfyddydau a digwyddiadau byw