The German Gymnasium was built by German immigrants who had settled in London in the mid-19th century. Now it nestles in a triangle behind King's Cross and the old St Pancras, a tiny haven of peace amid the bustle of Europe's largest building site - the construction of the Channel tunnel link and terminus.
With its high vaulted roof and view over Sir Gilbert Scott's Midland Hotel with its cathedral spire, it provides the perfect setting for this meditation on arrivals and departures, memory and history, exile, dispossession and impossible reunions.
Written by John Berger and Anne Michaels - whose brilliant novel Fugitive Pieces breathes in time with the ghosts of history's disappeared - and directed by Complicite's Simon McBurney, Vanishing Points is a reminder of the role that railways and stations have played in our personal and national history.
It reminds, too, of the role they play for the many that still dream of coming here. It thunders with the sound of people on the move; sometimes to a new life and often to oblivion. It brings the dead back to life, and it reminds that we walk on the bones of those who went before us.
From one vantage place the southwards view over London as dusk settles, it gives you a snapshot of the constantly changing city with its population renewed by the influx of immigrants.
Despite the presence of several terrific actors including Juliet Stevenson and Paul Rhys, this remains largely a literary rather than a theatrical event.
You long for more of the installation element that becomes apparent on a westward journey in which you see the suitcases of those who passed before and feel the hard floor turn to the loamy softness of the forest.
More of this kind of thing would be preferable to the blurry videotapes and the incessant self-conscious capturing of memory in the camera's eye. The sound is pretty ropey too.
But despite these imperfections and the feeling this is a high-class history lesson - Queen Boudicca is apparently buried under platform eight at King's Cross - there is something undeniably atmospheric and emotionally evocative about the experience.
Afterwards, you stride into the night to catch a train with the rail tracks of memory imprinted across your mind.
Ends tonight. Box office: 020-8510 9786.
