It is common for dance companies to include a summary of the plot of their show in programmes. Far From the Norm does not, however, provide a programme for Until We Sleep, so the audience is obliged to work out the obscure narrative unaided. Am chuffed, upon later reading the plot summary on The Lowry web site, to see my guess of a tribe on a quest with their leader undergoing an existential crisis is pretty close to being correct; although the meaning of the title remains unclear.
Until We Sleep opens with a tribe at a turning point—a growing number of the community gather around a glowing object which seems to be prompting them to take some form of action. The tension is apparent from the opening moments—as each member of the community joins the group, the stage dramatically plunges into darkness, while a crashing noise echoes through the theatre.
The setting may be post-apocalypse. Ryan Laight’s costumes, feathered / animal skins, are tattered and have seen better days. Botis Seva’s choreography is based around walking. A dancer strides confidently forward in slow motion as if under water or shuffles slowly as if pushing against some barrier while others are stuck impotently on the spot stamping in frustration. There are constant challenges and obstacles which press upon the bodies of the dancers, hindering their momentum and twisting them into agonised poses.
As these obstacles are largely unseen, they may be mental rather than physical. There is, however, one obvious physical hindrance—illuminated florescent shards reveal the bars of a cage enclosing the community. It is possible, therefore, they are in an enclosed, controlled space and the subject of scientific observation rather than free to roam. The tribe may not even be human—some of the dance steps are animalistic with squatting, ape-like movements.
It is possible to discern distinct personalities within the tribe—an eager beaver pushes bravely forward, willing to test the limits of confinement. Most obviously, there is a leader who stands tall while another dancer clutches their legs and who makes regular motivational speeches to the other members of the tribe. The leader is, however, subject to crippling self-doubt—unable to save a tribe member from being shot or to prevent anyone scrabbling to escape through the bars from being pulled back.
The leader is compelled to physically confront a reptilian nemesis and is the only member of the tribe who is aware of a figure in an ornate headdress standing aloft outside the cage bars watching events. Whether the figure is commanding the observation process or is a role model towards whom the leader aspires is unclear.
The atmosphere becomes increasingly nightmarish as the leader confronts their limitations while alone in the caged area. Suddenly, hands thrust accusingly into the cage, and the doubts of the leader take physical form as he is taunted by a scaly creature.
Until We Sleep is tremendously atmospheric and technically impressive, but the wilful obscurity is self-indulgent.