The Surge review – Sinéad O’Connor’s wild and terrifying awakening | Dance

“I’m just a restless soul who needs to scream into a microphone every now and then,” said Sinead O’Connor. She sings of turmoil and screams in The Surge, an ode to it by American choreographer Sonia Tayeh.

The singer, who died in 2023, attracted both worship and scorn during her lifetime. The “boom” is an act of devotion – 10 women sit on seats and actually sway, slide and jump around. They jump, twirl and tremble when the songs possess them – moved and inspired, perhaps dancing with tongues.

These dancers are the glory of the show. Many of them have paid their dues in New York’s indie dance scene—and now they’re mature artists (over 500 years old overall), solid with talent and experience. These are the faces who have seen things, who see us, and whose gaze often captures the audience. Sometimes, it’s as if they are dancing their life story.

The singer’s poetic voiceover creeps throughout the show, in audiobook excerpts from her memoir. “Songs are ghosts,” she says. Her music reflects the evening like a haunting: piercing, wailing, as the guitars pound and scream through songs of struggle, rage and misplaced romance.

Tayeh, best known in the UK for choreographing the musical “Moulin Rouge!”, has a wide-ranging repertoire: most recently a musical inspired by the horror ballet “Black Swan.” Her movement here is inventive and often exciting, especially in unison, but she cannot sustain the initial level of trembling intensity, as the middle section becomes a series of melancholy vignettes.

However, there are a lot of amazing moments. Karen Plantadet’s suspenseful, shaky solo for “Tiny Grief Song”; Flexible Lisa Race slides down the reclining seats; The band swings into Red Football. Throughout the film, Tom Visser’s low-key lighting washes the stage in a muted copper or green (he also designed the set).

If this is an awakening, it is a wild awakening. It is a paradox of O’Connor’s art that her intensely personal songs, influenced by her autobiography and imaginative spiritual calling, spoke so powerfully to so many. “The Surge” ends with a poignant clap of the dancers’ hands – a sad but jubilant community.