Photo by Robbie Mullins.

I was invited to witness a fantastic play of joy, distress, and kindness, told through the medium of dance. The show took place in The Complex, situated on 21- 25 Arran Street East. The space opened its doors in September 2019 and is a welcome addition to a city with a dwindling number of creative venues and spaces. 

I was delighted to find a space that rivalled Smock Alley Theatre or Project Arts Centre in size. Alongside its dimensions, the locale boasts a five euro pint which is a rare surprise in a Dublin theatre. Spurred on by its unique features, I eagerly noticed several people involved in Dublin’s art’s scene, LGBT activists, and some people who looked like they could be your Mom or Dad in attendance. To put it simply: it was a great crowd. 

What looked like a black stage with a wide platform was transformed into a club party catwalk by the talented performer (Nick Nickolaou), lights (Kevin Murphy), and the sound designer (Rory Sweeney). Think of Peter Brook’s concept of an ‘Immediate Theatre’ – a show that pursues risks and active intimacy with the audience. Now imagine that that immediate theatre in question is soundtracked by pop goddesses Britney Spears, Charli XCX, and Kelsey Lu.

Photos courtesy of Robbie Mullins.

Nick trained as a dancer at the University of Limerick and has performed all over the world (Greece). Their dance performance featured contemporary influences, voguing, and rave staples such as feeding the chickens, to name but a few. At every point of the show, the dance was precise, beautiful or provocative to watch, and emotional. At one point, I was convinced that there were wings emerging from Nick’s back muscles. By mixing many different costumes, performances of gender, and stages of an insane night out, Nick held the audience in a mesmerised state. Tactful exits from the stage and moments of silence in the thrilling dance score gave the piece tension and a space for the audience to think and breathe. Though the long runway moments may have paused the action of dance narrative, the show is ultimately well-crafted. 

And then, after the audience has adjusted to this dance of extremities and costume changes, the momentum broke. Nick sits and talks to the audience about how months ago, they thought of leaving. With rental prices and a city that makes little to no effort to support a nightlife and the arts, they felt left with no option but to emigrate. 

But then they danced at a SOPHIE memorial gig, and they went and kissed their friends, and they devised this breath-taking piece of art. In the brief monologue, they pay tribute to the presence of ‘the dolls’ (a slang term for trans women) and ‘teenagers doing poppers’ being the marker of a good night out. One of their final lines haunts my mind. They looked at us achingly and pleaded for a ‘space to dance and kiss and fall down the stairs’. With that, ‘we’ll be fine’. 

Lovingly, they left the audience in the safe hands of DJ Rory Sweeney and we danced the night away. Under the beat I felt the urgent tone of the community’s voice. ‘Let us have the night. Give us a place to live’.

 

ANATOMY OF A NIGHT is part-performance, part-immersive club experience at The Complex this September (20th-24th), as part of the Dublin Fringe Festival.