Dance is an increasingly popular medium for exploring and expressing the distorted thought patterns mental illness can bring, so much so that Edinburgh's Queen Margaret is now one of a handful of universities offering a masters degree in dance movement psychotherapy. It's from this course that choreographer Shan Chan comes, utilising her clinical research, along with fellow choreographer Suzi Cunningham, to climb into the mind of a person living with schizophrenia.
The first half sees a cast of five moulding together and fracturing apart. With Chan as protagonist, the rest of the group become giggling bullies or monstrous double-backed creatures, grotesque in their cooperation. Later, earthy, flat foot beats and tribal patterns help remind us that in parts of the world such distorted visions are hailed as luminary gifts.
Chan's talent is in creating choreography pacy and vivid enough to be accessible but not so literal as to be crass. There are moments of brilliance – a pulsing human centipede yanking itself painfully forward then gently stroking its thighs is as fascinating as it is original.
Less convincing are the passages that play with language; the exception being Cunningham's jagged poem where interrupted rhythms and rhymes form a skewed mirror to a frenetic solo.
This might be a show that appeals more to people with an interest in the subject. But if Chan and Cunningham continue to produce work as carefully constructed and sincerely expressed as this, they might go a long way towards bringing positive attention to a developing strand of dance.