Unholy Trinity

Traditionally, writers and activists have the monopoly on discussion of feminist ideas, so it is both refreshing and exciting to see the female body, its cultural associations and its vocabulary of movement explored with eloquence and grace by three powerful solo dancers.

In Salome, Avatâra Ayuso partners with an elaborate red dress, both femme fatale and Little Red Riding Hood, travelling through glamorous gesture–arms outstretched, Hollywood pose–to the language of demure femininity–swooping legs, and floating feet–to a skittish animalism, perched on all fours. Composer Daniel Williams layers the original Strauss score with threatening electric heartbeats; the unsettling and seductive mood that saturates the piece is spellbinding.

Finishing on a more upbeat note, Aoife McAtamney's softer swells pairs Irish acapella folk songs with silent passages of dance. There's a zen-like energy to the way she loses herself in swoops and stretches. Finally, clicking her fingers, arms spread, we get the peaceful and uplifting sense that she has found her own rhythm.

By contrast, Dolly by Giorgia Nardin stands out as the most biting. In a flesh-coloured leotard Nardin's form is rendered neutral and strange, while a fierce melancholy drenches her twitches and convulsions as each new passage spirals out of control. The power here is in Nardin's subtlety. She is a human trapped in a doll's skin, moving and behaving in a way that seems to overwhelm and disturb her.

When it comes to expressing ideas that have such raw basis in emotion, dance can fill the spaces left empty between words.