One of the final shows in this year’s Tempo Festival, Trifle is something of a contemporary dance showcase. Comprised of works by Zahra Killeen-Chance, Kelly Nash and Jessie McCall,  the show is sold out and eagerly anticipated; there is an excited buzz filling Q’s Loft well before the doors open.

Two lines of dancers jump-shuffle on to the stage, their torsos unmoving and their faces turned impassively to the audience. Their costumes of pale t-shirts, underwear and sand shoes draw attention to their limbs as they move, eerily, in unison. Referencing the movements of the singers and dancers of the 60’s, the stripped down and repetitive movement of Zahra Killeen-Chance’s GO GO DO is disconcertingly fascinating. With their fixed gaze and the uniform, simple movement the dancers look like an army of mannequins as they form and reform in lines and staggered groups. Such a strong set up of uniformity and group precision makes every variance starkly visible. This, and the subtly unbalancing effect of the one male dancer and two dark haired women amongst the otherwise light haired group creates a undertone of tension in the work. There are moments when the precision falters slightly, but the cast of Lisa Greenfield, Phoebe Heyhoe, Tallulah Holly-Massey, Shanelle Lenehan, Molly Rose McDowall, Maria Munkowits and Geoff Maynard Gilson perform with admirable focus and restrained panache.

With her new work Poaka; carrot stone cactus Kelly Nash has created a beautifully awkward and very human duet. Nancy Wijohn and Dan Cooper engage in a strange, oddly humorous and touching conversation, not kind, but seemingly intent on discovering and testing the boundaries of their selves and their relationship. Touches are placed deliberately, to an apparent yet unseen plan. “Where does my hand go next?” The dancers’ movement plays out against a backdrop of projected images. Selected and arranged by Lisa Greenfield these assorted pictures are reminiscent of Lewis Carroll in their obscurity and strange aptness. They fade in and out of notice throughout the piece, present but not fighting against the dancers for attention. The duet escalates from an occasional touch eliciting a few words, to the stories of old injuries and the re-infliction of remembered pain. They pull and push each other through space to the sound of the silence and their voices. “Are you ok?” they ask, before retreating into shadow and crawling off the stage. Cleverly constructed and powerfully performed this is a work that will resonate long after the show is over.

In the final piece Jessie McCall delivers the colourful and entertaining The Way We Fall. Made in collaboration with her dancers and very much in her signature style, this loosely structured work rambles across a lot of conceptual ground. Performers Sarah Elsworth, Anitra Hayday, Grace Woolett and Julie van Renen make an interesting combination of personalities, creating a byplay which is intrinsic to the work. The dancers switch smoothly between discourse, possibly ironic self-commentary, literal and abstracted movement with the soundscape providing an almost too fitting accompaniment. Love is mocked, and the effects of concussion are illustrated with giant silver stars. The difficulties and implications of trust are touched on and then escalate into an exposition on the history of defenestration. The tone is light and absurd and easy laughs ripple through the piece. In covering so many themes, however, The Way We Fall fails to move beyond the superficial; and even the most striking moments become lost in the continual procession of ideas.

Full of strange and beautiful moments Trifle is an engaging and entertaining show, and a satisfying conclusion to the two weeks of varied dance that have preceded it. Hopefully there will be more such collaborations in the future.

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