I went and saw Rian last night for Sydney Festival.
“Joyous and exhilarating, the latest creation from Irish dance company Fabulous Beast is a thrilling evening of music and dance.
For this internationally acclaimed work, director and choreographer Michael Keegan-Dolan collaborates with composer Liam Ó Maonlaí of Hothouse Flowers, drawing inspiration from Ó Maonlaí’s 2005 solo album Rian (‘mark’ or ‘trace’ in Gaelic).
In a dynamic celebration of Ireland’s roots and traditions, Celtic sounds are mixed with elements of West African music, as eight dancers from around the world unite with five of Ireland’s top musicians.
There is reverie and release as the music propels the dancers across the stage, empowering them to make their mark.”
I have no words. Last night, I finally realised my failure in being able to express myself only through language.
What I saw on stage was magic. Not kitsch-card-trick magic. Real magic. Real Gaelic magic.
The music made my bones vanish.
And the dancers. One vignette may suffice: a skinny woman in a green shift with short hair, rolling her body through the air like her joints were ball-bearings. And she smoked a cigarette the whole time.
vimh 