Dancer and choreographer Rosalind Crisp is Dance, quite literally. She embodies the character of Dance and is provoked and consoled by fellow dancer Helen Herbertson. Crisp makes good use of this deep warehouse space as she struggles against herself to convey dance in light of apocalypse of a ‘big boom’. Her fragility is easily felt and seen in the way she staggers, twitches and stares vacantly out into the audience. Somehow she also manages to amuse us with well timed verbal quips, French mimicry and a child’s playful naivety.
