Choreographer: Mufutau Yusuf
Presented by: Luail
The theatre is smoky and dark and remains so throughout. Several people nearly trip over on the way in. Even the emergency exit signs are covered to maintain the darkness (a warning about this on the way in may have been helpful. I was supposed to be accompanied by someone with mobility and balance issues and she would have stumbled and tripped on the way in). Darkness is a theme throughout, dimmed amber spotlights shine onto the dancers, but there is no other light source.
The nine performers are dressed all in white. At first, they stand at the back of the stage, facing away from the audience, draped in long white veils that are shed over time. The white helps to make them more visible and gives them an otherworldly feeling. Small, jagged movements dominate the first quarter until they evolve into something more fluid and communal. Sometimes the dance is frantic, sometimes focused, sometimes primal, powerful, challenging. The dancers are clearly talented and skilled, even to the untrained eye, and they make their movements seem as though a part of themselves.
The soundscape was at times intriguing. Sound very gradually grew from whispers to something dominating, droning, pounding, encompassing. Audience members were offered foam ear plugs on the way in, and they are recommended. Eventually elements of keening can be heard. Keening is a fascinating, ancient practice, turning the screams of grief into something ritualistic. Although it is difficult to know exactly how keeners sounded centuries ago, there are some remnants that live on, the distorted ‘oh no’ and feeling of listening to a wave draw from these.
Grief, mourning, and all they encompass are difficult feelings that struggle to take up space in our modern world. Even in Ireland, a country that is known for rip.ie and holding wakes with an open casket, many struggle not to suppress their feelings and feel they have to get up and carry on. The Fifth Sun aims to use the body as a site of lament, to fully embody the feelings that we try to hard to hide. This is an exciting idea and seems like such a good premise that one wonders why we haven’t seen more productions that draw on this rich vein of inspiration.
As someone in mourning I expected to connect with the piece more than I did but the awful pain of grief, of losing someone or something beloved, was hard to find. Perhaps the piece tries to do too much at once: “a eulogy and a renewal, a ceremony that reflects on humanity’s past, confronts our turbulent present, and leans cautiously toward an uncertain future” while also drawing on keening and its counterpoints across cultures. The audience however applauded with gusto at the end with many rising to their feet.
Runs Until 16th May 2026.
The Reviews Hub Star Rating
A Modern Lament
