Tag Archives: Guy Hoare

CONSUMED

★★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

CONSUMED

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★

“a sophisticated and ambitious piece of writing”

Four generations of Northern Irish women gather for their great-grandmother’s 90th birthday: a family kitchen, a table set for dinner, and a tangle of unspoken histories. Over the course of the meal, tensions simmer, humour bubbles, and old wounds begin to show.
Karis Kelly’s Consumed, winner of the Women’s Prize for Playwriting, starts as a sharp and funny domestic drama. There is a clear and believable connection between the four women, with glances, shared gestures, and that mix of affection and irritation that comes from a lifetime under the same family roof. The youngest of the four, Muireann (Muireann Ní Fhaogáin), passionate about climate change, patriarchy and oat milk, clashes with the more traditional views of her elders, while the matriarchal Eileen (Julia Dearden) and her daughter Gilly (Andrea Irvine) bring their own layered history into the room. References to marriage, relationships, and what it means to “wear the trousers” in a partnership give a smart, often funny look at generational shifts and the ways some things have not shifted at all.

The performances are uniformly strong. Dearden brings a magnetic, grounded presence to great-grandmother Eileen, her deep voice and unfiltered honesty contrasting beautifully with Irvine’s effervescent Gilly, who hides her own struggles behind a bubbly façade. Caoimhe Farren has admirable conviction as Jenny and takes her to the extremities of emotion on her journey through the play. Ní Fhaogáin is convincing as the teenager great-granddaughter, although at times could do a little more to ensure she is keeping in tone with the rest of the cast.

Lily Arnold’s set is gorgeous in its detail, from the mould creeping through the wallpaper to the scuffed skirting boards and the cupboard crammed with expired tins and Bags for Life. The latter is a sly nod to the generational gap between caring for the planet and knowing how to go about it in practice. The smell of real cooking drifts into the audience, making the kitchen feel genuinely lived-in. Beth Duke’s sound design, Guy Hoare’s lighting and Karis Kelly’s witty script combine to welcome us fully into this family home.

As the piece moves into its final third, the familiar realism tilts suddenly towards supernatural horror. Flickering lights and rumbling sounds hint at something darker lurking in the house. It is an exciting shift in the writing, but the transition feels abrupt in performance. The tone wavers between psychological horror and heightened dark comedy, leaving some moments caught between the two without committing fully to either. A couple of emotional escalations, such as Jenny’s sudden outburst trashing the room, also jar against the otherwise well-paced dynamics.

Even with those uneven final beats, Consumed is a sophisticated and ambitious piece of writing, rich with ideas about generational trauma, women’s roles, and the histories we carry in our bodies as well as our memories. It is sharply funny, often moving, and brought to life by four captivating performances. With a little more space to breathe into its tonal shift, it could land with even greater impact.



CONSUMED

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 10th August 2025 at Traverse 1 at Traverse Theatre

by Joseph Dunitz

Photography by Pamela Raith

 

 

 

 

 

CONSUMED

CONSUMED

CONSUMED

DANCE PEOPLE

★★★

Edinburgh International Festival

DANCE PEOPLE

Edinburgh International Festival

★★★

“As the sun sets, darkness transforms the space, and the lighting takes full effect”

An empty courtyard. A red ribbon separates the performance space from the audience area. Lebanese-French dance company Maqamat takes the stage—or rather, the quad. We’re in the Old College Quad, surrounded by lights, a dance floor, movable red stairs, and rolling platforms. Choreographers Omar Rajeh and Mia Habis have promised us an interactive dance performance.

The dancers greet the guests warmly. This is a charming company—open, inviting. We are given instructions about the rolling platforms: we may join the dance if we wish, or watch from the sidelines.

An announcement begins. We are addressed as citizens. We are told, this is a work about people—about movement and motion, leading and following, conforming and resisting.

The ribbon is cut. We are invited into space. Humans do what is natural: we move toward open spaces. We migrate, infiltrate, collect, and immigrate. We watch as people find places. The best place—a place where they can lean or sit. Survey or interact.

This piece merges the kinesthetic world of the dancer with that of the viewer. Here, there is no distinction—we are all citizens of this space. The company deliberately erases and annihilates the boundaries between stage and audience, performer and observer—this is a common space and a shared dance.

Thirty minutes into the piece, the kinetic part of the dance begins.

It becomes clear that this contemporary dance company has its distinctive kinetic style—movement initiated centrally, flowing from the core to the periphery of the body. Motion fluid with percussive, vibratory, ricocheting elements—full of rebound and drive. There’s a strong sense of contact: with each other, with the space itself.

The choreography incorporates basic locomotor actions—skipping, galloping, stomping, leaps —executed with spontaneity, at times improvised, movement in waves that swell outward and then fall back into the body’s core or the pack’s center. Though it seems improvised, it is clear that the vocabulary is deeply understood and embedded in the company’s practice. This group knows and understands itself and the process of doing what they do.

Movement happens solo, then in duets, until eventually a collective energy forms—something like a rave, a dance pack that migrates draws the audience into participation. Soon, everyone is dancing. The work is fully immersive. The music is live with a live DJ also mixing our aural world.

As the sun sets, darkness transforms the space, and the lighting takes full effect. The audio engineer roams among the crowd. Platforms roll. Lights pulsate a-rhythmically. The Old Quad buildings get bathed in light and projection. New spaces are defined and isolated. A visual artist makes several works. There are introductions, interviews with audience members recounting their lives and occupations. Letters are addressed and announced to all kinds of individuals. Movement instructions appear on the walls. The audience follows or resists. In the final moments, all the taped red divisions and marked boundaries are ripped away, and worn as a final dance costume. The boundaries and demarcations are the outer casing.

Dance People claims in its publicity to explore power structures, the collisions between democracy and dictatorship, activism and politics. It promises bold new forms. Yet much of what unfolds feels familiar—maybe that’s the point. Unthreatening dictators dictate and direct our lives and actions. We follow and often enjoy where we are taken, or we resist and do our own thing.

The ingredients of this work are interesting, concepts and images we’ve seen before. Symbolic red objects ultimately do not transcend their abstract metaphor. In the end, it feels less like a radical act and more like another immersive performance in an unconventional space. Been there before. Done that dance already. I’m sure I will do it again.

 



DANCE PEOPLE

Edinburgh International Festival

Reviewed on 8th August 2025 at Old College Quad

by Louis Kavouras

Photography by Tommy Ga-Ken Wan

 

 

 

 

 

 

DANCE PEOPLE

DANCE PEOPLE

DANCE PEOPLE