Showing @ Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, Thu 22 Mar only

There’s something trying to be said in this work, a voice struggling to be heard. That it’s not easily understood is one of the inevitable realities of the abstract language of dance, but what is clear is the passion, effort and seriousness that Errol White and his company bring to their art-form.

What we do know about director Davina Givan’s piece is it springs from the idea of an event in time, something which has consequences from those at its heart and those that surround it. The turmoil and stress are portrayed meticulously by the sheer physical effort given by White’s dancers who delicately paint agony and sorrow with every aching movement.

There’s a mix of stillness and action here, mirrored perfectly by the minimalist music, and unlike some productions there’s no battling against it. Instead, there’s a pegging of the sound, particularly the driving clockwork thrum, to the violent pulls and jerks on stage. Gerald Tyler’s lighting design is stripped down but effective and its lack of shadow means the dancers don’t hide the pain, sweat and strain of filtering emotion through the pretzel turns of their bodies from the audience. White’s company clearly give it everything they’ve got and in the intimate hotbox that is the Traverse you can see and hear the effort it takes in the laboured breathing, all of which draws you into the raw emotions even without a narrative to follow. This is an effective show and what an audience takes from it will be very much down to their own experience and how well they think it translates human emotion. But what’s certainly true is that they will be left with something to talk about after the lights go up.

Click here to read The Wee Review’s interview with Errol White about iam.