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Large architectural structures on stage, a rich blend of cultural influences, ambitious universal themes — this is definitely a Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui work. The architectural structures in this instance are large blocks of various shapes and dimensions, puzzle pieces to be put together and taken apart. The performers do just this, manipulating their landscape, arranging and rearranging them to form stairs, walls, columns, corridors, platforms. They run through them, into them, climb up, tumble down, constantly returning to these monoliths for support and purpose. Order and disorder. The term monolith has literal roots, as the work was originally inspired by and performed at an old stone quarry (now used as a performance venue) near Avignon, France. The sense of scale, labour, and a timeworn landscape are still present in this very different setting, and the blocks anchor the work, demarcating and framing the spaces that the performers inhabit.

The performers are not only the eleven dancers. They are joined onstage by the six members of Corsican vocal group La Filetta, Lebanese singer Fadia Tomb El-Hage, and traditional Japanese flautist and taiko drummer Kazunari Abe. The music, almost all of which is performed live, is a melange of different cultural traditions, both religious and secular. It is stunningly beautiful and sets the spiritual tone of the work. The relationships between the dancers and vocalist/musicians on stage enrich the dialogue between the music and movement. All nineteen performers shift in and out of the spaces equally, engaging with the landscape as one collective rather than two. As the bodies breathe together, the divide between vocal and movement performance suddenly seems quite an arbitrary one.

Ancient, Western and biblical images are intertwined with images drawn from Eastern practices. This is not about fusing separate cultural traditions, but about highlighting their inherent reliance on and entanglement with one another. But the blurred reality of the Oriental-Occidental dichotomy is (I hope) not something that we need Cherkaoui to inform us of. What resonates far more is the sense that the performers are part of something larger than themselves. There is an energy that draws them together, providing a glimpse of the connection between the individual and the universal—something that I suspect most of us yearn for.

Some sections do not work as well as others. At one point, the dancers engage in Pygmalion-like relationships: one sculptor, one sculpture. It elicits some giggles from the audience, but although amusing, it does not quite feel like this is the place for it. Perhaps it is just that, at times, there seems to be too many choreographic ideas at play. The themes of the work are numerous as well as ambitious: making connections, linearity, identity, multiplicity, order and chaos, human relationships. They are tangled across and within one another and I can’t help but feel that sometimes the resonance of the individual ideas gets lost. But perhaps the areas of overlap serve to reinforce the emphasis on connections which Puz/zle pieces together, slowly, bit by bit.

Within this swirling, contemplative world of connections, group sections are interspersed with solos. This arrangement quickly becomes predictable, but the strength of the solos renders this a minor concern. The individual dancers radiate power and serenity, even as they struggle with themselves, and Helder Seabra and Leif Federico Firnhaber’s solos imprint themselves especially strongly on my imagination.

The world the performers inhabit is not always serene. They repeatedly act as witnesses to one another, a powerful act which can be affirming but also threatening. In more overt instances of violence, the group turns on one of its own, a battle-duet ensues, and in one particularly interesting moment, the suggestion of violence is directed towards the audience. If the work were not already approaching two hours in length, I would be curious to see this element explored further.

Puz/zle offers a sweeping and evocative exploration into connections: between people, cultures, ideas, artists, mediums, between bodies and landscape. Perhaps it tries to be too many things, but it nevertheless offers a lot. The monoliths remain the heart of the work; it is they that allow the different connections to be made and remade, and the performers’ Herculean acts of shifting their environment continue to fascinate me throughout. Among this looming, unstable, monumental landscape, moments of clarity, serenity, and tension appear and disappear. Ultimately, I leave with a deep respect for the beauty and power of the nineteen bodies whose performance I witnessed.