Tag Archives: EFR25

BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED

★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★

“captures many moments where the sounds and movement line up meaningfully”

Because You Never Asked by We All Fall Down is a visually captivating piece set to the backdrop of a co-creator Roger White, and his grandmother, Marianna Clark about her experience as a Jewish girl living through the Nazi regime. The piece presents an urgent message against the oppression of migrants and persecuted minorities, and stirs images of hope, sorrow, and loss which catch the breath of its audience in one fell swoop.

The strongest element of Because You Never Asked is by far the endlessly impressive physical theatre of an impenetrable ensemble of four. Emilie de Vasconcelos-Taillefer, Marie Leveque, Max Ipadapixam, and Lina Nampts work seamlessly together to capture Marianna’s memories as the tide turned against Jewish people under the fascism. Each performer brought a different strength and idiosyncrasy to physical storytelling and impressively interprets Clark’s memories into fascinating and unravelling movement. Displaying feats of strength, balance, and control across the hour, the performers interpreted the words filtered through a soundscape into fast-paced but considered movement.

As with lots of movement theatre, there are admittedly some sequences which linger on repetitive movements for a touch too long. Because You Never Asked falls into a trap of opening with a slower burning sequence, which is eventually broken up by Leveque’s verbatim monologue which portrays a bittersweetness of time during and after the war. The soundscape, mostly, creates a pouring tension and glow amongst the raucous of frantic and mournful movement. It could be argued that the interviews could be brought out more clearly and more equal in volume to the music so an audience can follow Marianna’s anecdotes more solidly, rather than relying on snippets which are heard here or there.

Tiffanie Boffa’s lighting design creates atmospheric and chilling moments of clarity and ambiguity. One moment of three pairs of hands reaching into the light in the first half of the show plunged slowly into darkness, as one person is left apart from the group, gives a striking message against them and us rhetoric used to isolate marginalised groups. When moments like this come to fruition in the piece, it really works.

At points where the tight ensemble brings together overlapping of exerts and anecdotes, raising their voices and closing in on the audience, the piece feels on the cusp of raising hairs but is let down by carrying itself away. However, this is not to detract from the focused and laser-sharp gesture and facial expression of the ensemble when addressing the audience. Furthermore, the sequence using of raincoats as puppets creates appropriately chilling tableaux.

Because You Never Asked captures many moments where the sounds and movement line up meaningfully, giving way to considered messages about grief and loss which permeate narratives of displacement and oppression, which the team seek to highlight in relation to current global issues. The relationship between White and Clark and their intergenerational connection, is something that could be explored further throughout the performance and perhaps would bring home these issues more precisely.



BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 25th August 2025 at Main Hall at Summerhall

by Molly Knox

Photography by Do Phan Hoi

 

 

 

 

 

 

BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED

BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED

BECAUSE YOU NEVER ASKED

FIGURES IN EXTINCTION

★★★★★

Edinburgh International Festival

FIGURES IN EXTINCTION

Edinburgh International Festival

★★★★★

“Figures in Extinction transcends story: it is a thesis danced, a living meditation on extinction, existence, renewal”

Act I

Dancers stand facing us. A single breath — then movement. Crystal Pite’s choreography speaks in precision, clarity, and the eloquence of gesture. A second breath, and they dissolve offstage.

Simon McBurney and Pite create the world of this work where words and movement merge. Where dance and theatre become a beautiful duet.

We enter a bestiary of absence: animals no longer among us, their names projected above the stage. They return in abstraction — a horn, a pecking head, hands becoming a shoal of fish. Curtains lift, architecture shifts, and creatures of air, land, and sea flicker briefly into being.

This is a mourning of what has vanished: animals, glaciers, lakes swallowed by history. A sly humour surfaces when a climate change denier appears — we wonder wryly when such figures might themselves go extinct.

We observe these apparitions, reminded that they once observed us, though we seldom notice. Pite moves forward and backward, gestures revisited and reframed, never bound by linearity. Great art is never straightforward.

Her language is movement: a reach of the hand, both subject and predicate, potent and symbolic. Time folds. This is a dance of the now, but also recalls early 20th-century choral forms, when space itself was a partner. Negative space dances as much as bodies do. Pite is a sculptor, freeing presence from stone.

A puppet cheetah, built of bones, crosses the stage — fragile yet regal, a monument to extinction.

The curtain descends.

Act II

Stillness. Dancers in chairs. A child whispers, When will they move? We are watching ourselves — humans transfixed by screens, fascinated with our own reflection.

A table becomes a mountain. Fluorescent light falls. A voice lectures on the brain — two hemispheres, divided yet yearning for union. A sudden ballet phrase bursts forth, tossed like a blossom in ikebana: startling, dissonant, necessary.

The stage fills with dancers in business suits. Thought collides with movement, the brain a battlefield of visions. Then, integration: a duet emerges, tender, immediate. Harmony is revealed not in division, but in union.

The world unravels — shifting lines of weight, collapsing order. Within the chaos, connection: a figure embraced, right and left merging. Urgency floods the stage. Balance arrives, fleeting, fragile. Humans, it seems, are but a “fluke in the universe.”

The curtain descends.

Act III

Street clothes. It is we who watch, not all humanity, only ourselves. A hospital bed. Doctors change sheets with ritual precision — one person’s grief, another’s work. This act confronts dying, loss, and the unseeable next.

Mozart’s Requiem reverberates. A vast black cube lowers, shadowing the stage like mortality itself. In the umbra, where no light reaches, we realize vision is only possible from the light we are given. At the penumbral threshold, we glimpse what lies beyond.

Decomposition unfolds: five stages of return to earth. The puppet cheetah reappears, then shatters — fragments dissolving into a landscape of grief. Solo dancers emerge, luminous, breakable. Repetition circles us back to the beginning — but now the extinctions are our own: loved ones, ourselves.

The curtain descends.

Coda

Few works of such ambition achieve coherence. This one does. Pite and McBurney are masters of gesture and space, weaving narrative into kinetic poetry, always exact, never indulgent, never distracted by itself. Figures in Extinction transcends story: it is a thesis danced, a living meditation on extinction, existence, renewal.

Twenty-four dancers from the Netherlands Dans Theatre inhabit this world with fierce commitment. Duets devastate with intimacy; solos mesmerize. Light, projection, and design conspire seamlessly, revealing the theatre as a collaborative art form. A reflective light backdrop descends, shimmering like the very idea of a ghost. Ethereal. Otherworldly.

If there is a flaw, it is in the ending, which circles and lingers with multiple closures. Yet within the sublime, lingering becomes forgiveness — or perhaps the point itself.

Genius.

 



FIGURES IN EXTINCTION

Edinburgh International Festival

Reviewed on 22nd August 2025 at the Festival Theatre

by Louis Kavouras

Photography by Andrew Perry

 

 

 

 

 

 

FIGURES IN EXTINCTION

FIGURES IN EXTINCTION

FIGURES IN EXTINCTION