The Table, at the Traverse Theatre in Edinburgh, is a production with many authors. Sparked by Christine Devaney, artistic director of the dance theatre group Curious Seed, the creative team also comprises youth theatre Lyra (directed by Jo Timmins) and the Lung Ha Theatre Company (directed by Maria Oller), consisting of actors and theatre makers with learning disabilities and autism. The result is an epic, multi-ensemble, stage-filling, staggeringly complex pageant constantly in tension between falling into chaos and exploring the heights of wonder.
The Table is episodic, with self-contained and parable-like chapters loosely linked by thematic elements of a journey, the rules of a new society, and questions about who sets those rules and who is invited to participate. Dance and movement, poetic interludes, meditative inquiries, and improvisational sequences explore the ideas of inclusion versus exclusion and are held together by an associative Dr Seuss-like logic for a consistent dreamlike, otherworldly feel.
Throughout, live instrumental and vocal music composed by David Paul Jones and performed by Jones and Shea Martin is a gorgeously textured frame helping to contain the many diverging threads in a more narrative shape.
The production thrillingly races along the border between intelligible storytelling and opacity, sincerity and sentimentality. It’s ambitious, and occasionally departs from the narrow edges it tries to trace. A scheme of coded tickets ostensibly meant to give differentiated experiences to the audience upon entry to the theatre mainly yielded confusion. Despite the bravery of eschewing all irony, some story chapters nevertheless tilt into uncomfortable earnestness. The ferocious originality of most of the material makes occasional lapses into well-worn tales like the Scorpion and the Swan somewhat jarring – although the associated dance is one of the most beautiful in the show. Measured against the scope of what’s attempted, all these shortfalls are minor – and, indeed, testament to just how much succeeds.
The Table gently provokes and challenges. This is done less with its overt questioning about who gets to sit at the table, which is wisely left lightly raised, and more in, for example, its demonstration that stunning choreography needn’t be crisply precise; that a bit of ragged messiness can more effectively convey both poignancy and delight. With deft staging involving projected backdrops and clever costuming from Karen Tennent, this is a dazzlingly lush experience, offering both multisensory and intellectual richness.
At its best, The Table evokes a sense of play, while simultaneously making the case for its centrality as what makes us human. It achieves a rare and deeply affecting level of direct emotional connection with the audience and offers a transformative, uplifting glimpse of utter joy.
Listings and ticket information can be found here
