Presented by: Dance Constortium
Director & Choreographer: Michael Keegan-Dolan
Concertina: Cormac Begley
The wordless medium of dance is fertile ground for interpretation and symbolism – every gesture and interaction spinning its own little narrative – but it can feel frustrating to have so little concrete confirmation that you’re on the right track. Dance Consortium’s MÁM seems dense with some kind of unvoiced story that somehow manages to still hit home. Its roots are in the Irish folk tradition with the spellbinding concertina playing of Cormac Begley providing a literal and thematic centrepoint, but the performance spirals out into a dreamlike space to form a strikingly rich and beguiling piece of theatrical dance.
There’s a strong mythical quality to the opening scene. Begley is wearing a mask of a horned beast like some kind of demigod, whilst a girl in a white dress is lying down on a table. There’s an air of sacrifice and ritual. After a bright flash of light crackles across the stage, ten dancers take their seats in a row. As Begley plays, they clap, stamp and slap their knees in time, joining in with the music in an intuitive, untrained way, as if they are sitting in a local pub.
As the jaunty concertina reels play, the dancers, dressed in old-timey formal wear, imitate the airs and graces of a dancehall, with mini interactions erupting here and there, the focus pulling from one person to another. The girl is a constant presence. Sometimes she is the centre of attention, her table being lifted and carried across the stage; at others, she sits nonchalantly eating a packet of crisps. Her presence casts an eerie possibility, raising questions of what she symbolises. Is she the ghost of a child living in the memory of this community of adults? Does she represent a more archetypal feminine presence?
There’s a constant pull between a universal kind of symbolism (horned beasts, masculine and feminine forces) and the mundane, all-too-human world (packets of crisps being eaten, chairs being spun around). This is further explored when the curtains drop to reveal a whole new group of musicians, European classical contemporary collective s t a r g a z e. They bring a more worldly, modern jazziness to the soundtrack, which melds and clashes with the ancestral folk of Begley’s concertina. Their setup of strings, oboe, guitar and drums is a variously groovy and abrasive counterpoint that further expands the wonky soundworld of the piece.
What coalesces from all the pushing and pulling is a densely rich playground of meaning. The dancing is at times grotesque and confrontational – they scream, fall over, spin in circles, laugh maniacally, kiss and fondle each other – but it’s always playful and exploratory, hinting at stories and relationships in a way that makes it feel like you’ve been given a snapshot of humanity at its most honest and intimate.
Runs until 11 February 2026
