Watching Humanhood’s spellbinding new show, ∞ {Infinite}, feels a bit like being hypnotised. For one hour and 15 minutes you get to be mesmerised by dancers moving with liquid limbs; their flow is impeccable as they execute flawless spirals, their spines constantly twisting and arms almost always undulating, as they roll, dive, slide and leap across the space.
Humanhood’s directors Julia Robert and Rudi Cole are known for looking at dance through a spiritual lens, incorporating shamanic practice into their choreography. They call ∞ {Infinite} their first ever ‘dance theatre meditation’, and it certainly delivers on the meditation. There is no story or plot to the piece, Instead it’s a visceral exploration of the human body and its connection to the elements and wider universe. This isn’t just a load of mumbo jumbo – as viewers, we get to go on the spiritual journey too. A serene, echoing voice asks us to close our eyes. Breath. Listen to our bodies. The gentle sound of birdsong and crashing waves takes us deeper into the meditation. The smell of incense fills the auditorium and fog is gently pumped out across the stage, making the room smokey.
Elements of South Asian mysticism are certainly evident here. Many times the dancers sit on the floor cross-legged and stoic, eyes closed. At other times their formations and floor patterns are mapped out like a Buddhist zen garden, all spirals, swirls and perfect circles. Almost in constant flow, Humanhood’s signature fluid choreography comes into its own. Never more than eight dancers on stage, the company moves as one symbiotic unit, executing perfect unisons, canons and moments of breakaway solos that seamlessly blend into the rest of the movement. As they move, beautiful patterns emerge. The dancers contract and expand their bodies towards and away from each other, looking like blooming flowers.
Much of the movement is insular and looking inwards, like the performers aren’t dancing for an audience at all. But there are also surprises that break us from our hypnotised state. One solo involves a white object being whirled around on a long string. It makes a satisfying ‘zzzzip’ as it flies around the dancer’s body. At one point it looks like an attacking bird, the next it is making beautiful figures of eight.
There is no set, but the lighting by Tom Visser is genius. Sometimes the dancers are in almost complete darkness, at other moments they are shrouded by smoke with only a dim green light, and at one point they all have bright bulbs secured to their palms – these are cleverly used to either obscure their bodies, as we are blinded by the bright orbs, or to show them, as limbs and chests are lit by the peripheral glow.
The music is just as atmospheric as the lighting – cinematic at times – as it moves between euphoric synths, bass-heavy chuggers, mystical chanting and white noise. Also, shout out to the new Sadler’s Wells East, because it really is very good. The sound is crystal clear and booming – it’s loud enough to feel the bass vibrating through your body.
∞ {Infinite} really does take you on a meditative journey, and isn’t like any dance show I have seen before. It’s mysterious, transfixing and utterly absorbing.