The Chair

As 1940s music fills the air and flashes of light drench the dancers frozen in tableau on stage, a harrowing tale of murder, love and forgiveness begins to unfold.

The Chair is a hard-hitting piece of physical theatre, expertly delivered by four dancers: a prisoner, guard, mother and girlfriend. Together, they succeed in creating breathtaking moments of shared connection – yet it feels like the movement has been designed to fit the cramped space, the choreography feeling constricted as a result.

The soundtrack, with piano and strings, is cleverly composed to evoke emotion and interesting contrasts are achieved between the intense instrumental score and the playful 1940s tracks. However, it is the performance of Nasae Evanson that really impresses – his piercing eyes full of sorrow, his melancholic interactions with his fellow dancers potent and entirely believable.

Evanson's character has recurrent and disturbing dreams which provide an insight into his troubled childhood. White-masked characters jerk around his sleeping body and pieces of the jigsaw fit into place, as the mystery surrounding his past slowly becomes clear.

The presence of the chair on stage is strong. Lit by a blue spotlight, the significance of the prop is slowly revealed and carefully linked to the movement throughout. Centred around this chair, the piece crescendos to an emotionally charged and heartbreaking finale. As the lights go up, the four dancers tearfully accept their applause – a poignant testament to the power of their performance.