The studio space is washed in various shades of low light. For one sequence it is blue: was this mountain once under water and is that a six-legged sea creature formed by the performers?

The desire for such specific interpretations falls away as the abstraction of the piece takes over with compelling power, helped by James Brown's vivid soundscape.

The performers "climb" horizontal wires and inch their way across the floor in tiny incremental moves that seem little more than vibrations, yet get them from point A to B – and back. In one beautiful sequence, they move fingers to toes in a line along the floor. It doesn't sound much in words, but in context it made a memorable impact, like so many moments captured in this piece.

Not everything was ideal. One interesting section involved floor work so close to the front row that most of the audience would have been unable to see it.

Also, one has to ponder the perceived need for companion performance elements to compensate for minimalist action. We were warned about extreme sound and light at the box office and the door, but the man beside me found it necessary to block his ears at one stage and the woman in front of me to put on dark glasses. Later the strobe lighting went on so long I had to close my eyes. It's not a complaint, just another thought.