The surrealist worlds of choreographer Léa Tirabasso are not immediately readable to the average audience member (that’s a polite way of saying: what on earth is going on here?!) but Tirabasso has decided she wants you to know what she’s on about. Queueing for her latest show, In the Bushes, we’re given a handout of an interview where the French choreographer cites her influences, from Guy Debord’s The Society of the Spectacle to Henry Gee’s The Accidental Species. It’s the idea of human exceptionalism that’s at the heart of her thinking: we’re just animals, she says. What makes us think we’re above the rest of our kingdom? And if you take away society’s manners and constraints, who are we then? What goes on in the bushes when nobody’s looking?
In truth, the appearance of the six dancers is less animal, more like a bunch of toddlers who’ve been let loose in the dressing up box, tottering about on tippy toes, squawking and cooing and twittering. They come across like Teletubbies (you might find this irritating, or hilarious). She paints us as simplistic beasts, sensory-seekers, rolling on the floor, rubbing against each other, doing what feels good. There’s naivety and lack of embarrassment about bodies – it brings to mind Emma Stone in the film Poor Things, especially later when things get a bit less naive with biting hands, slapping bottoms and giggly kisses.
But then there’s the intrusion of shame, fear, and innocence lost. Nakedness and the dawning of self-consciousness. These parts are cleverly, amusingly done, along with the creeping in of rituals, for the dead, for example – something that’s been observed in animals, too. The climax is a huge outpouring of fake emotion. The dancers play at being distraught, tears dripped from a water bottle, revelling in the big feels, even when they’re completely fabricated. This surely is a true marker of human behaviour – what else do we use art for, if not to fabricate emotions?
The emotions produced here seem fairly surface level. It’s a funny and silly piece of dance, even though it’s also deeply concerned with the very nature of who we are. They are a truly impressive clan of performers, to keep up this level of jittery, full-body energy and intense character for a constantly moving hour. Humans are often enthralled to watch animal behaviour that we don’t necessarily understand, and this is not dissimilar.
• At Summerhall, Edinburgh, until 25 August
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