NDT1 in Figures in Extinction: cerebral and physical excellence

Choreographer Crystal Pite and actor, writer and director Simon McBurney first came up with an idea to create something together in 2016. The subject matter was to focus on the climate crisis. Once they finally started, Figures in Extinction took four years to complete. A massive amount of research, collective effort, brilliant minds and stupendous dancers and the result is a profoundly moving work that ignites a range of emotions.

The first part, Figures in Extinction [1.0] the list was premiered in 2022. Their collaboration with Nederlands Dans Theater 1 and Complicité was to prove very successful and the second part of the trilogy, Figures in Extinction [2.0] but then you come to the humans came in 2024. The final part, Figures in Extinction [3.0] requiem was added and presented as a triptych earlier this year in Manchester. It’s the first time it has come to London’s Sadler’s Wells in its entirety.

The list in the title of the first part refers to animal species that are either extinct or fast becoming so, as well as the rapid rates at which the world’s glaciers are discharging due to climate change. It seems extraordinary that these themes could be turned into a piece of dance theatre but what has transpired is a truly astonishing, thought provoking, engaging and aesthetically beautiful work of moving art.

Set to music and soundscape by Owen Belton and Benjamin Grant respectively, we were taken on a journey via a startling range of animals beginning with a Pyrenean ibex, depicted here with giant, curved horns worn on the dancer’s arms. Heavy, grounded movements gravely carried the burden of evolution, followed swiftly by the fluttering of the Bachman’s warbler. A child’s voice called out many times, “Has it gone?” A herd of South Selkirk caribou lumbered across the stage and seemed to falter at every step.

NDT1 in Figures in Extinction [1.0] the list

© Rahi Rezvani

Greenland’s Helheim Glacier appeared to be breaking, cracking in real time. Even plants, namely the spider orchid, were struggling to survive. The splendid poison frog, bathed in Tom Visser’s shaft of glowing light, evoked the slime and globular, wide-eyed stare of this creature.

In the middle of marvelling at the quality of movement, so easily identifiable with each dancer’s interpretation, we were interrupted with a monologue from a climate change denier. Pite is adept at making movement to the spoken word (think The Statement). Jon Bond skilfully gesticulated and exaggerated his spiel of non-sensical pronouncements and though briefly alarming, his comic timing was delivered to perfection.

After watching five dancers reassemble the skeleton of an Asiatic cheetah, I felt a real sense of despair. The child’s voice repeatedly asked, “Have they gone? Have they gone forever?” I could have watched it all night.

The second part could not have been more different. In collaboration with psychiatrist and neuroscientist Iain McGilchrist, we were moved into a world of technology and an exploration of the division of our brains. A child whispered, “Why aren't they moving?” The stage was filled with rows of seated, suited and booted people, glued to their phones. Even the tiniest head movement was executed in complete synchronicity.

While the voice over, once again mimicked by the dancers, discussed the truths and myths of the right and left sides of the brain, the movements increased. The advancement and use of devices, the voice suggested, has led to a loss of real connection. One woman frustratedly yelled at her phone, “Why can’t I speak to a real person?” Familiar. The ensemble dances were incredible, flawless as they moved like a flock of birds, sometimes even when rippling across the floor.

The message was clear. McGilchrist suggests that in the modern world we seek happiness, which in turn leads to resentment and unhappiness, followed by mental illness. It may seem like doom and gloom but we came away with much to think about.

The final part was about death and perhaps the least tangible concept. Yet this section, with moments shrouded in the grief that inevitably comes with loss, contained some extremely funny episodes. There was a conversation between two hospital workers, with strong northern English accents, discussing the merits of changing a hospital bed and the best way to accomplish the removal of a bottom sheet. Hilarious.

There was also a passage where a sheet represented a catastrophic loss of life, each dancer moving underneath it and passing it to the person directly behind. A newborn baby cried, the mother tried hard to bond, the cycle of life continued.

It’s a long but extraordinary creation, danced impeccably. Nancy Bryant’s costumes, Jay Gower Taylor’s scenic design and Visser’s lighting – Figures is an experience worth repeating. Pite and McBurney are a formidable duo.