Can you remember all the dances youʼve danced? This is the question posed by the three performers at the start of the piece Wallflower. The audience is then introduced to a playful and improvised dance marathon, constantly transforming depending on the performers on stage.

The dances are all followed by a personal story, making the performance something quite unique. Each dancer decide for themselves how much they want to share, and at what point – and for each performance new dances are added. Perhaps weʼll experience a pulsating reggae dance, an awkward teenage slow dance or grand musical numbers – no one knows beforehand what will come up. In this piece, dance is used as a portal to the imagination. It helps us remember our own dances; the embarrassing ones, the lovely ones, the forgotten. When do we choose to involve ourselves in the world around us? When do we choose to stand by the sideline watching?

Memories of dancing alone all night at a party; of whirling across the stage at the Paris Opera Ballet; of silently, slowly revolving with a new lover on a canal boat at night; of a repeated tic – a bodily habit that feels like dancing; of walking alongside their mother; of racing with a dog across a beach; of dizzily spinning children; of weeping and dancing; of hitting the mark for Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker….

Wallflower is a dance marathon, a game that alters according to the players. Like much of Quarantine’s work, Wallflower serves as a form of portraiture. Each night, the performers choose what they want to reveal, what story of themselves they want to tell. In the seats around the dance floor, the spectators bring their own histories, understanding and expectations. And somewhere between the spotlight and the sidelines, Wallflower happens.

Quarantine creates theatre, performance and other public events. Our work is about the here and now. In its form, content and process of creation, it examines the world around us. We’ve made 28 original pieces of work of varying scale: family parties, karaoke booths, cookery lessons, radio broadcasts, reading rooms and journeys in the dark for one person at a time – as well as performances on stage for audiences in seats. We’ve worked with philosophers, soldiers, chefs, children, florists, opera singers and countless others. The work is made out of lengthy and intimate research with its performers, often working with people who are rarely seen on stage. They’re not interpreters, but individuals, each with their own story. Quarantine’s work repositions both the politics and the aesthetics of theatre made with the untrained performer.

Quarantine