Review: The Machine of Horizontal Dreams, Sadler’s Wells

We were welcomed to the studio with the explanation that this is an installation, and as such, audience members are encouraged to move around, in and amongst the performers. Sadly, this did not happen (or at least not until the very end) so once the chairs were occupied (quickly), the rest of us sort of perched uncomfortably on the floor, shifting uneasily to try and see the performances through the chair legs in front of us. Now, I understand that I could have done something about that, but I wonder whether the spectators should have been persuaded by the performers to interact, or frankly more chairs should have been provided. Or maybe the intention was to deliberately make us uncomfortable?

The Machine of Horizontal Dreams is a multi-sensory, multi-disciplinary performance played in the round, using light, sound, images, and movement. Four curved screens surround the space, and as we wait for the performers to arrive, a rumbling soundscape interspersed with an electrical sizzle envelops us, rising to a crescendo before dimming again. A number of images from the titular machine flash up interspersed with words that suggest a chapter break, such as ‘rest’ or ‘purging’.

A group of women enter, wearing comfortable clothing in muted colours. They are a mix of dance artists who lead the movement piece alongside 18 members of an intergenerational community cast from the students of London Contemporary Dance School. The lead dancers are particularly accomplished with occasional vocal pieces describing personal experiences.

The quality of the light in particular is spectacular, where full use is made of the height of the room, sweeping arcs of light move across the floor, muting to monochrome shadow or spotlight items. The video installation is skilful and thought provoking, although it’s not obvious as to its link to the other parts in play.

The creation of this piece is designed to encourage Western audiences to reimagine ideas of progress not as linear growth, but as collective care, and the deliberate choice of intergenerational groups which encourages intersectional sharing of knowledge.

For me as a spectator, whilst the multi layered performance was visually and audibly exceptional, with the sound often physically pulsating through my body, I felt a little alienated and confused. A little girl next to me sat wide eyed with interest but similarly bemused. Spectators at the end were physically encouraged to join into the final dance, and many did, but on the way out, there were many who felt that there was something missing, the dancers not used to their full ability, with insufficient cohesion between the disciplines.

As I reflect on the experience, I loved that it was an all-female, multigenerational piece, and applaud each individual section of the installation as all were excellent, but I remain unmoved. Perhaps the audience should be encouraged more to be included? Otherwise, we’re all just too removed: silent and confused. Or perhaps the power of the work remains in its collaboration, rather than the end result.

Artistic Director & Choreographer: Pepa Ubera
Performers Jay Yule, Elisabeth Mulenga, Yen-Ching Lin, Moronfoluwa Odimayo, Juliette Yasmine Mello
Visual Artist: Joey Hoder
Video Artist & Live VJ: Bobby León
Light Artist: Joshie Harriette
Sound Artist: Pierre Aviat

The Machine of Horizontal Dreams plays at Sadler’s Wells East until Saturday 18 October.