Irish Timeswriters review Fairport Convention, Stillorgan Park Hotel, Dublin and Dublin Dance Festival: Fall and Recoverat the Project Arts Centre

Fairport Convention

Stillorgan Park Hotel, Dublin

Electric folk is a much muddied commodity these days, but English folk icons Fairport Convention reminded us of just how musically far-sighted and thought-provoking it can be.

Guitarist and vocalist Simon Nicol is the sole torch-bearer for the Fairports’ original line up (which at varying interludes in their 42-year history included Richard Thompson, Sandy Denny, Ashley Hutchings and Dave Swarbrick). His compadres these days include florid fiddler Ric Sanders, percussionist Gerry Conway, bassist Dave Pegg and talented multi-instrumentalist and singer Chris Leslie.

This was a fundraiser for Pieta House, a centre for the prevention of self harm and suicide, and the Fairports hit full throttle from the get-go. Their opener, Walk Awhile, focused on the quintet's remarkable vocal harmonies, but it was their reading of Richard Thompson's Crazy Man Michaelthat raised the hairs on the back of the neck, sparked by Nicol's loping vocals and Sanders's shadow-boxing fiddle.

Anyone who expected them to dine out on past glories was mistaken, as the band fashioned mini-epic tales of maritime adventure ( I'm Already There, a companion piece for the doomed classic, Lord Franklin), natural history ( The Fossil Hunter), railroad romanticism ( Travelling By Steam) and the trepidations of the firstborn's fleeing of the nest ( In Our Town).

Their ode to Sandy Denny, in the shape of her sublime Who Knows Where The Time Goes? at times teetered on the edge of over-zealousness, but the band's respect for life's fleeting moments won out. Historical tales of fossil hunting and of the hidden delights of the ukulele, underscored their zest for light and shade in equal proportion – and delivered with ear-tingling fervour. Fairport Convention's quintessential Englishness, writ large in the baroque-tinged music of their home place, was an immovable anchor to an exhilarating night. SIOBHÁN LONG

Dublin Dance Festival: Fall and Recover

Project Arts Centre

Fall and Recoveris more like an ongoing process than a stagnant piece of repertory for Irish Modern Dance Theatre. Performed by members of the company and 11 clients from the Spirasi Centre for Care of Survivors of Torture, the work changes as new performers and their stories are introduced. Since the premiere in 2004, some cast members have featured in other IMDT works and that experience shows in this production.

The work seems bleaker than before, less connected with individuals but with an increased emphasis on the group. As before, it begins with the entire cast drawing on white paper that covers the entire dance floor.

Different houses – safe refuges – are traced in markers, but they are quickly ripped up until the entire floor of paper is shredded and removed to the side.

There follows some moments for lone performers or small groups, but these reveal the different personalities behind the common white costumes. Instead, people are inert bodies, carried by groups above their heads, or solitary figures lit by one downward light, dancing lonely solos. Mostly, the power of unison is employed to create a family of shared experiences.

A lone dancer stands against the black back wall, trapped in a square of light and is gradually joined by others pressing against her body. Later, the entire cast faces the audience, hands held, shouting their history at the same time. Rossa Ó Snodaigh’s music has also evolved into a richer tapestry of looping twangs and lowing drones that provides changing colours to the action.

The unpolished movement from so many less-experienced performers is appropriate within John Scott's aesthetic, which values honesty of intention above slickness of delivery. But the nature of the piece also dampens his quirkiness and eye for the absurd. It's not all gloomy – there are moments of joyous release in the songs and processions – but the final image of white forensic body outlines on the black floor is potent enough to leave a lingering sadness and reminder of the past realities of many of those onstage. MICHAEL SEAVER