Tag Archives: Louis Kavouras

TRIPTYCH REDUX

★★★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

TRIPTYCH REDUX

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★★

“It is dance you can read, dance that is language, dance that is legible”

Australian choreographer Lewis Major’s mixed repertory Triptych Redux sweeps between the inner and outer worlds—a whirling maelstrom of motion, sound, and light—holding us in its pull from first breath to final blackout.

Comprising Prologue, Unfolding, and Epilogue (in two parts: Lament and Act 2), the evening is sculpted with a precision that balances momentum and pause. Major’s movement language spins into stillness, weight folding into the body’s centre before rolling outwards in waves. At its heart is a motif: the sudden cascade of motion and a turn that halts as if time itself has caught its breath, the dancer suspended between propulsion and repose, like that moment in a cascading ocean wave when we have a divine yet potent stillness. These are three works and four sections, but mostly, they feel like one thing. One glimpse into a specific topography.

The cast—Rebecca Bassett-Graham, Abbey Harby, Felicity Chadwick, Lewis Major, Stefaan Morrow, and Elsi Faulks—navigate this vocabulary with unerring focus: sliding in socks across the floor, turning and arresting, lifting and sculpting, sketching chalky lines in white powder, tossing it skywards so it drifts and clings like a ghost of movement. There is a known language here.

The structure unfolds with the quiet logic of an ecosystem: trio, duet, quartet, duet for women, duet for men, mixed duet, and a final solo. Music shifts between sections, yet the transitions are seamless—each dance feeding the next, unfolding unhurried and organically. The opening has the feel of ritual, port de bras carried in unison, then broken into counterpointed foldings of the body, as though testing the architecture of the space. There is a haunting duet of stunning partnering where Graham never touches the floor.

Most theatrical reviews fail to mention lighting designers. If the lighting designer does their job well, we often take the illumination for granted; our minds focus on what is being lit, rather than the process of illumination. Lighting, here, is no afterthought but a partner. Co-designed by Major and Fausto Brusamolino, it shapes bodies into relief, flickers like memory, or cuts lines across the stage, always one state dissolves into another without a seam. In Unfolding, Brusamolino casts lines that scan the space, fabrics of shifting patterns, and a spinning “balance beam” of light that demands the dancer’s absolute precision—another kind of movement feat, this time in illumination, and the dancer dancing with light. Lighting designers are fascinating—many spend their days in darkened spaces, sculpting with lumens. The best, like Brusamolino and Major, give only what is needed—never a lumen more. They make our eyes reach for the image, forcing us to focus.

And I have to mention that when the side lights came on, casting warm sculptural amber light on the dancer’s body, those of us who have been watching dance at the fringe drank it in the way an unwatered house plant soaks up a long-awaited drink. Thank you.

Debussy’s Gymnopédies closes the work: a single dancer, powdered and solitary, bathed in a narrow shaft of light. A foot draws a circle; the body answers with arcs of its own—a prayer, a farewell. The music erodes into drone and dissonance, tension mounting until the final swell tips us into a sudden, absolute blackout.

Major’s world is one where light and body are inseparable, where every turn risks arrest, and every arrest holds the seed of the next release. It is dance you can read, dance that is language, dance that is legible, but also dance you can feel without needing to translate.



TRIPTYCH REDUX

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 14th August 2025 at Main House at ZOO Southside

by Louis Kavouras

Photography by Ven Tithing

 

 

 

 

 

TRIPTYCH REDUX

TRIPTYCH REDUX

TRIPTYCH REDUX

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

★★★★★

Edinburgh International Festival

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

Edinburgh International Festival

★★★★★

“This is a finely wrought work, every element chosen with precision”

The theatre curtain glows with a looping projection—what many today would call a “boomerang”, though not of the Australian variety. The image fades. In the pit, the live orchestra tunes. The curtain rises to reveal an aerial artist suspended in a mist of golden haze, dressed in crimson, as she tumbles and falls while descending. It is Eurydice’s death on her wedding night—her plunge into the underworld. The image is both haunting and beautiful. Our evening of visual poetry begins.

The ancient story: Eurydice dies on her wedding day, and Orpheus, the world’s greatest musician, journeys to Hades to bring her back—on one cruel condition: he must not look at her until they have left the underworld. In this staging, Orpheus awakens in an asylum, visited by Amor, who offers the same bargain—the Greeks and their Sisyphean tasks, the test of patience, the temptation to turn too soon. We think we know how this ends. We read, “Love triumphs.” But does it?

The star is Christoph Gluck’s luminous score, performed with clarity and elegance by the Scottish Chamber Orchestra and the Chorus of Scottish Opera under the baton of Laurence Cummings. Another standout is the collaboration of several artistic forces, including direction and scenic design by Yaron Lifschitz, choreography by Lifschitz, Bridie Hooper, and the Circa ensemble. Costumes are by Libby McDonnell, video design by Boris Bagattini. Countertenor Iestyn Davies gives Orpheus a voice of ache and purity, while Samantha Clarke sings both Eurydice and Amor with grace and power. The movement artists are the kinetic heart of the piece—always in motion, inhabiting the liminal space between myth and dream, unflinchingly hurling themselves into these underworlds of kinetic flow.

The set is a white box. Other small structures appear, then vanish. Supertitles are video-mapped onto the back wall, integrated into the scenery before decaying and falling away, like Eurydice’s first descent.

The colour palette is stark: white, black, and red. The language is that of symbols, each one dissolving into the next. The chorus becomes part of the set; dancers counterbalance against walls, walk horizontally when lifted, roll, and dive along vertical planes. There is no safety net.

A green circle of grass appears; red petals rain gently down. Three male dancers share a breathtaking trio, weaving, diving, and cascading over and under one another. Dancers mask and unmask, building impossible towers of bodies. The production flows from one potent image to the next—each a tableau of loss, longing, and fragile, precarious triumph.

This is a finely wrought work, every element chosen with precision. Music meets voice, meets movement, meets circus. Opera and contemporary circus intertwine in a pas de deux—tumbling, floating, weightless. Gluck’s Orpheus and Eurydice is brought back from the underworld, but in this telling, we should not avert our gaze. Perhaps we should never look away.



ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

Edinburgh International Festival

This show is a European production premiere with Opera Australia, presenting Opera Queensland’s production of Orpheus and Eurydice in association with Circa

Reviewed on 13th August 2025 at Edinburgh Playhouse

by Louis Kavouras

Photography by Jess Shurte

 

 

 

 

 

 

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE