Fri 24 Jan: GSB, Jackie Kibuka and Keith Alexander

A singular spotlight opens a portal of krumping bodies in GSB's Episode 101. The breadth of raw emotion, vibrating torsos, and intense facial expressions narrate an enthralling perspective that I wanted to witness for a longer duration than what was offered. Combinations of isolated lighting, fiery sound, and unique solos created a captivating performance - the distinct flair of GSB's creative collective were clear for all to see. Fierce chest pops, fluid arm swings and the exploration of contact between the dancers all emphasise a powerful story which appears to develop a life of its own.

Keith Alexander’s strong solo performance embodies a personal enquiry of his life and the complex intersections of the African diasporic experience in America. Using transdisciplinary tools such as voice, memory, body percussion, and audience interaction, Alexander immerses us in his imagination that breathes beyond any location. Alexander's rippling body motioning backwards with his hands clapping the syllables of 'Mississippi' and newspaper sheets encircling the centre of the stage paints an ancestral vision of resistance and unafraid fortification. To Quell a Storm is a journey of traversing chaos and arriving at a place of unquelled curiosity.

An emotive performance bursting with Wakaliwood-style theatrics and vibrant Ugandan culture closed this evening of evocative performances. Jajja 15 by Jackie Kibuka takes us on an adventure guided by "the water that holds the current of (their) ancestors". Fusing hip-hop, African contemporary movements, and spoken word, the story of four British-Ugandan grandchildren is beautifully illustrated. A single top hat transforms each of the grandchildren into Jajja, reigniting a long-forgotten history of his activism in the 1950s against British colonialism. Their bodies intermingle in a flow of energetic movement as exclamations of "no more British rule!" permeate the stage. Jajja 15 is a highly energetic piece that speaks to the transformative potency of learning one's history.

- ayebainemi abieyuwa ése

GSB describe themselves as a “London based Krump creative collective” - and that’s absolutely the identity and energy they bring to Resolution with Episode 101. Throughout the work the cast demonstrate their adept skills at both precise, dynamic dance and convincing storytelling. Nothing is literal, but it's all authentic by the bucket load. The simple light design emphasises elements of isolation and claustrophobia in the storytelling communication, further supported by extreme, often pained in nature facial expressions. The collective offer, tight, well rehearsed work that gives space to all involved to exercise deep-rooted emotions.

To Quell a Storm by Keith Alexander is a sensitive piece that shares personal history and experiences, and works as a fine platform for Alexander's enigmatic persona. He arrives on stage and immediately starts to engage with his audience, regaling childhood memories and asking them to join in with clapping rhythms and rhymes of sorts. Everyone is hooked immediately, and we observe Alexander creating percussive rhythms with his body, listen as he shares more insights into his life to date and witness him try to quell said storm with expressive arms to a soundtrack of experimental jazz. As engaging as he is, the work needs some tweaks in relation to pace and structure, but the core intention is evident and worthwhile.

Jajja 15 by Jackie Kibuka is a narrative work that follows a storyboard style pattern allowing for difficult subject matter to be accessed with ease and subtlety. The axis is a grandfather character who had to leave Uganda in his youth due to political complications. What unfolds is the journey of his family reconnecting with their ancestral roots and sense of self. The movement vocabulary suggests a modern take on ancient language; grounded shunts, gliding hops and elements of present day street dance abound. The characters are on the journey together, clearly looking for something, but doing so with mutual support and laughter, and throughout the (narrated) voice of Jajja, tinged with sadness, acts as a reminder that many people can't call their home, home.

- Matthew Paluch