From where I'm sitting, Irish Modern Dance Theatre is a hefty heading, especially given that the troupe exists solely to create the work of a single choreographer, John Scott - in this case, a no-frills duet. Scott's hubris in branding begs questions as two guys step out and we wonder how the content of the next half hour can be enough to embrace a nation and summarise an entire genre. Justification here is approached via dance-making that addresses a cultural trait: Scott observes that his work is pioneering in a place known more for its literature and text-based drama than for its modern dancing. Manoeuvring this notion, Actions' extrovert performers, Daniel Squire and Andre Zachery, practically never stop talking while they never stop dancing. They are outstanding but not seductive. They want to be liked for their skills (abundant) and train of thought (as wayward as anybody's). Waiting for nothing, they know their tasks but not each other. A wheedling, part-improvised verbal dialogue (exasperating and endearing by turns) buzzes around the athletic dance expertise of this odd couple as they stab at further personal acquaintance. Nobody in the house is not drawn in. Even when punters are asked (by Zachery) for ad-hoc proposals (on which he sportingly acts, while elsewhere an un-ruffled Squire levers his horizontal spine in a sequence of gorgeous slow balances), it's only a continuation of the way in which observers are engaged in 'conversation' with this rapidly evolving event. That the space teems with collective fascination is brought about by this mature choreographer's wit and sophistication. John Scott's actions deftly juggle fixed moves and prepared text-clusters with episodes of spontaneity and banter. There is lyrical rawness too as the gents careen about, spraying their sweat, lofting and shlepping each other into more or less graceful partnered instants. The payoff for this immediacy is a lack of a really memorable signature moment. The choreographic element is scored as a kind of second-fiddle, just to equip registers of a pursuit which is ephemeral and all about presence - maybe yours?
