If you’re walking past the Grindlay Street Garage at around 8pm sometime in the next week, you may be forgiven for having the impression that the sky may be about to fall on your head. Fear not, for it will hopefully just be the sound of ten pairs of feet, thirteen pairs of hands, some African djembe drums and a lot of jumping about. Quite literally, with bells on.
South African choreographer Sonwabo Masepe brings his latest work to Edinburgh, and you’ll be exhausted even watching it. The lights dip, the drums start, and the troupe make their way on stage, kitted out with tie-die tops and blue boiler pants, and before long, the whole room resounds to the organic (and extremely loud) sounds of a different continent. Anyone who’s witnessed such stage shows as Stomp will recognise many facets of percussive dance in this show, but the music here also tells a historical tale of a nation, often joyous, but at times tinged with a sadness, that is portrayed with both great tenderness and intensity.
The rhythms initially may sound quite alien to Western ears, but it’s the dancing which captivates from the outset, fully holding the attention until the middle of the performance, where an acoustic guitar and chanting vocals are introduced, thereafter treating the audience to a combined sonic and visual feast, overflowing with energy and universal humour.
Aided by the fact that the cast clearly have the time of their lives, one gets the surreal impression that you may actually be watching the gloriously choreographed offspring of an alcohol-fuelled hen night and a Morris dancing Zulu tribe with a Red Bull habit. Simply outstanding.
5/5
Simon Ferguson
