Founded in 2024, Luail is Ireland's national dance company, with a full-time ensemble of eight dancers. Under Artistic Director Liz Roche, it has brought an array of critically acclaimed productions to Ireland and beyond, including IMPASSE, Chora, Reverb, and more recently, Dancehall, which was performed at the Black Box last year.
Their most recent outing is a revival of Philip Connaughton's Trojans, based on Virgil's epic poem, The Aeneid, which is over 2,000 years old. The poem tells the story of Aeneas, who is displaced after the Trojan War, and embarks on a quest across the Mediterranean in search of a new home.
After the dentist, public speaking and death, audience participation is probably my fourth greatest fear.
In fairness, I had been well warned, having read glowing reviews from both the Irish Times and The Arts Review. In the end, the allure of the production outweighed my trepidations. Yet, unlike other interactive pieces where unfortunate souls are plucked from the crowd and often put in uncomfortable positions, in Trojans, the audience is actually part of the story.
We embark on this great voyage alongside these emigrants, removing the space between 'us’ and ‘them'.
As we enter the main space in the Black Box, we are told to stand in the middle of the stage. Large screens surround us on all four sides.
Our ears are bombarded by Oberman Knocks' sound design, as we timidly await the introduction of the performers. Genuine fear emanates from a handful of faces as they slowly begin to realise what they have signed up for, but by then, it is already too late. Still, there is a sense of safety in numbers. Whatever is to follow, we are all in this together...
From the shadows, the performers creep on stage, forcing some of us to move awkwardly out of their way. One by one, they fall to the floor, enduring excruciating deaths.
We are instructed to walk around and look at each of them. A combination of anxiety, smoke, heat, loud music and trippy lighting brings on a sharp pain in my chest, which leaves me looking for the nearest exit, thinking I may be going into cardiac arrest. Fortunately, minutes later, we are instructed to take a seat around the fringes of the stage, and the fear slowly begins to subside.
As with all ensemble pieces, the problem is often not knowing where to look. At a few points throughout Trojans, I was torn between the big screen, and the performers, with the latter ultimately winning out. The artistry on show is remarkable, and the mere physical capability of the dancers is baffling, with Sean Lammer and Meghan Stevens in particular demanding a lot of attention.
Images of what appear to be war-torn Gaza (perhaps intended to represent Troy? ) felt a bit shoehorned in, and a clip of a scruffy dog seemed strangely out of place.
And yet, Trojans is unlike anything I have seen before; an assault on the senses that leaves you completely exhilarated as you walk out into the fresh night air.
4/5 stars
