Trigger warnings. They give a flavour of what’s to come. For some that is indeed ‘a mere flavour’, for some a true warning to brace and self-care, for some a strong indicator that this production just isn’t for them.

In all honesty, I scanned over the warnings, thought ‘blimey, buckle up’, and instead chose to focus on the fact that this production is a standing affair for audiences, 80 minutes, no interval.

Duly warned all round, I can say I wasn’t prepared for what I was about to witness. Neither was my lower back or my partner’s knees – standing opera, an excellent way to discover/reaffirm any middle-aged ‘niggles’ you’ve been thus far ignoring but might want to get checked out.

But my lower back had it easy, compared to my eyes and deepest, darkest soul.

Dramatic? Maybe. A positive? Absolutely. To quote Uncle Bryn in Gavin and Stacey, ‘and let me tell you for why…’

Two angels fall to earth and land in the middle of a broken marriage. Heaven help them.

Mr and Mrs X.E, are a desperate couple facing financial crisis and a crumbling marriage and they long for a better life. When they discover the two bruised and battered angels in their garden, they bring them inside to nurse them back to life.
Care quickly turns to control. The couple seize the opportunity to exploit the spiritual beings in pursuit of fame and fortune.
Brutally clipping the angels’ wings to exploit this heavenly gift, the celestial beings are subjected to degrading, inhumane practices

From the Chinese-American composer, performance artist and activist contemporary, 2017 Pulitzer-winning composer Du Yun and librettist Royce Vavrek, directed by Kip Wiliams and brought to us by the wonderful English National Opera (ENO), I can honestly say this is the most unique theatrical, not just limited to operatic, production I have ever seen. It’s absolutely astounding and enthralling.

I’ve watched theatre in the round at the Royal Exchange, the Crucible and the Royal Shakespeare theatre, I’ve watched open air theatre in Heaton Park, walking to each living, breathing, outdoor location to see the star-crossed lovers do their thing in Romeo and Juliet. I’ve experienced immersive, productions (a little reluctantly at first) in the absolute gift that is fringe theatre, but I have never born witness to theatre which literally surrounds you, envelops you and surprises and shocks you with every revolution of the stage.

You are invited to stand (and at this stage, it’s important to highlight that there are seating options for those with accessibility requirements) around a central stage within the epic space that is the warehouse at Aviva (home of Factory International). Already gently revolving, we see two angels, crouched and clasped together at its centre, as we surround what is frankly already a spectacle, the beauty that is their white, feathered wings against the dark, ominous and vast backdrop.

The production is, and I don’t mean to mix artistic channels although I clearly am, cinematic in nature. With three steady-cam (?) operators taking us deep inside an ever evolving set and space, and simultaneously projecting to screens above, sometimes split, and serving as sometimes a reflection of what sections of the audience can see in front of them, sometimes as an accompanying context and/or dual offering for what they can’t, I’m admittedly struggling to convey just how impactful this was.

The ‘I guess you just had to be there’, has never applied so much as to Angel’s Bone. Which I guess for a review, is a positive and translates to a recommendation for going to see for yourself.

There’s a magic to the production, as sets evolve as they indeed revolve, leaving the audience to wonder when and how a room appeared, how a wall somehow disappeared on a set which seemingly has all eyes on it.

There’s a dizzying, claustrophobic effect to the senses, which the act of standing does surely contribute to, instilling a feeling of physical discomfort to an already mental discomfort as the story and action takes flight, without mercy. The production is such that there is nowhere to hide for the cast and creatives, but equally so for the audience. You’re involved, you feel drawn and almost hypnotised by what is playing out around and in front of you. And there’s a sense of wholly voluntary no-escape.

The score by Du Yun, is (excuse the pun) instrumental to the feelings that this production evokes. What is seen by the eyes, is matched and complimented perfectly by what is heard by the ears. And it’s ironic that I speak essentially of a balancing of the senses and the elements that make up this production, as the result is so off kilter, so jarring, so challenging and uncomfortable, but all in the ways that it should be. You will not go home on the tram with an earworm of tuneful strains and delightful ditties. The music is there to be experienced in the moment. I understand it’s so diverse as to be chamber music and cabaret, electronica to punk. For me it was also experimental jazz, modern jazz with a capital M, New Orleans funeral procession jazz, it’s embracing the minor, the incidental, the off-the-beat and it’s incredible, brought to life by the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Baldar Bronnimann.

And to the cast – Allison Cook and Rodney Earl Clarke (Mr and Mrs XE), Matthew McKinney and Mariam Wallentin (boy and girl angel), and Keith Pun, our male soprano and omnipresence to proceedings, put simply, their voices are beautiful. But it is to the rest of their performances that I must pay tribute. This is not an enter stage left, do your thing, exit stage right affair. We return again to that nowhere to hide piece. There is nowhere to hide, but the choreography and acting involved in this harrowing production is without question, demanding and relentless in nature.

To convey chaos , trauma and a loss of control takes impeccable preparation, direction, discipline and precision. Bring in the additional performers, the Manchester-based Kantos Chamber Choir, who seamlessly infiltrate the stage and story, joining the main players as they all unravel in real time (purposely and as required, I should add) both visually and vocally in synchronicity with the narrative, it was truly a collaborative effort all round which led to my less than attractive, open-mouthed, wide-eyed expression that I settled into last night.

But let us return to the trigger warnings and the themes, that I barely referred to explicitly at the beginning of this blog piece. I was first keen to convey that whilst I’m going to describe Angel’s Bone as harrowing, powerful, shocking and uncomfortable, (not surprising given the messaging and topics being addressed), there is beauty, talent, strong-story-telling and innovation which brings me to those feelings. And as I’ve said quite a few times (sorry), if art makes you feel something, it’s done its job. And whilst those feelings aren’t always going to play out as joyous, heart-swelling and positive, they’re equally as valid. And perhaps perversely, leave me just as equally content.

Those trigger warnings – extreme sexual violence, human trafficking, sexual exploitation, prolonged acts of sexual aggression, violence, smoking and alcohol misuse, depiction of a firearm, depiction of drug use and injection, depiction of death by suicide and use of flashing lights and haze (you can read more at Access: Advice on Content.).

We’re not messing about here. I mean, we shouldn’t when we’re dealing with a ‘dark, unsettling parable ‘, of modern slavery and human trafficking. There’s little stone left unturned, little cruelty left unportrayed.

This production isn’t for everyone. It’s powerful and upsetting. Enthralling, impressive and uncomfortable.

It’s a brave, innovative, exciting, contemporary, unapologetic, unafraid piece of operatic theatre. And one to experience dependent on your own appetite. For me, it was a privilage to be a standing witness to this culmination of collaborative talent and contribution to the world of arts.

Although I was glad of the sit down afterwards to digest and reflect (not least on whether it’s time to visit a chiropractor).

On until 16 May, for more details and tickets, visit Angel’s Bone | Aviva Studios | Manchester | English National Opera – Factory International.

To read more about English National Opera (ENO), visit Home – ENO.

Photography credit – Tristram Kenton and Ellie Kurttz