The Surge - an Ode to Sinead O'Connor
- Grace Robinson
- 5 minutes ago
- 2 min read
Sonya Tayeh (chor)
Joyce Theater Weinroth Fund, Factory International and others
Aviva Studios, Manchester
June 25-27, 2026; 90 mins, no interval
The creative force behind The Surge is dynamic choreographer Sonya Tayeh, who has assembled not simply a company, but a community of 10 women dancers over 40.
This is the genius of the work: a mature sisterhood—or "coven", as Tayeh describes them - bringing over 500 years of collective experience to the stage. These supreme dance artists know every disciplined sinew and fibre of their honed bodies, while their emotional depth and life experience fuel the work's visceral physical power.
Sinead O'Connor's turbulent life is well documented, from an abusive Catholic childhood to global stardom, which she deliberately disrupted through fearless activism. Her 1992 protest - tearing up a photograph of Pope John Paul II on live television while declaring "Fight the real enemy" - led to instant vilification, but ultimately exposed the Catholic church's institutional abuse. Tayeh, then a teenager, recalls seeing it and feeling as though "the entire world had paused".
Surge is no gentle elegy, but a roaring demand to be seen and heard. Tayeh juxtaposes bold Martha Graham-inspired structure, with soaring arabesques that ache for freedom.
Against a spoken narrative and the pulsing strains of Just Like You Said It Would, the dancers - some with striking shaved head - begin seated in rows of black pews on Tom Visser's stark, black-box set. The imagery becomes a metaphor for O'Connor's lifelong questioning of faith.
Seven suspended light bulbs drift above, while cold white LEDs carve every muscle and bead of sweat into sharp relief, warmed occasionally by softer amber lighting. The visual world is breathtaking.
The choreography is extraordinary. During I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got, Lisa Race is lifted, cradled and swept through space while the ensemble balances precariously atop pews, their connection like an invisible umbilical cord, binding each woman to the next. Their collective reverse contraction over upturned pews is an abdominal power masterclass!
Every arm and leg extension feels driven from a woman’s deep internal understanding, rather than technical display. Tayeh's distinctive choreographic language captures O'Connor's inner turmoil, alongside moments of unfettered joy, tenderness and femininity. Ritualistic repetitions evoke Pina Bausch before dissolving into a heart-wrenching chain of bodies snaking across the floor, clinging together as though closeness alone can keep darkness at bay.
But there is one big disappointment: the sound. O'Connor's evocative music and memoir recordings were overpowering, depleting intimacy, drowning the dancers' breath (except one diminuendo) and creating a barrier between stage and audience. Many people, including a young fan, reached for earplugs. If this imbalance can be resolved, Surge will be an exceptional experience, one I would gladly watch again.
More info and tickets here
