On a chilly late February evening in 2025, I found myself seated in the darkened auditorium of Sadler’s Wells, London, awaiting the UK premiere of Deepstaria, the latest creation from visionary choreographer Wayne McGregor and his eponymous company. Named after the enigmatic Deepstaria enigmatica jellyfish—a translucent, tentacle-free marvel of the deep sea—this 75-minute, interval-free work promised a plunge into the unknown, a meditation on the void that spans the oceanic abyss and the infinite reaches of space. With its fusion of cutting-edge technology, experimental soundscapes, and McGregor’s signature hyper-physical choreography, Deepstaria arrived with the weight of expectation. Having followed McGregor’s career—from his boundary-pushing collaborations to his knack for weaving science into art—I was eager to see how this piece would unfold. What I encountered was a spectacle of undeniable ambition, a sensory immersion that dazzled and confounded in equal measure, yet left me grappling with a lingering sense of detachment.
The Concept: A Dance of Darkness and Discovery
At its core, Deepstaria is an exploration of humanity’s fascination with the void—those uncharted territories that provoke both awe and existential unease. McGregor draws inspiration from the deep sea, a realm less understood than outer space, and the jellyfish that lends the piece its name becomes a metaphor for fluidity, regeneration, and the mysteries of existence. The program notes speak of reflecting on “our profound relationship with the void and our own mortality,” a lofty premise that sets the stage for an abstract, non-narrative experience. This isn’t a story with a beginning, middle, and end; it’s a sensory landscape, an invitation to drift through darkness and light, sound and silence, movement and stillness.
The production’s technological innovations are front and center from the outset. A massive panel coated in Vantablack Vision®—a material so black it absorbs 99.9% of light—dominates the back of the stage, creating an illusion of infinite depth. This isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a void that seems to swallow the dancers, pulling the audience into its hypnotic pull. Theresa Baumgartner’s lighting design complements this effect, weaving beams of light that carve through the darkness, sometimes sharp and piercing, other times soft and rippling like water. The score, crafted by Nicolas Becker and LEXX with the aid of Bronze AI, promises a “sonic dreamscape” that evolves in real time, a digital engine recomposing the music as the dancers move. It’s a bold setup, one that blends dance with science fiction, asking us to reconsider how we perceive movement, sound, and space.
The Choreography: Fluidity Meets Precision
As the lights dim and the first notes—or rather, dissonant hums—fill the air, two dancers emerge against the Vantablack void, their bodies small and vulnerable in the vastness. McGregor’s choreography wastes no time in showcasing the extraordinary capabilities of his nine-strong ensemble. These are dancers who defy the limits of the human form, their limbs extending into impossible angles, their torsos twisting with a liquid grace that evokes the jellyfish of the title. There’s a balletic quality to their movements at times—clean lines and poised extensions—but it’s undercut by McGregor’s signature style: sharp, twitchy convulsions, hyper-extended legs, and a sense of perpetual motion that feels both alien and deeply human.
The piece unfolds with a focus on solos and duets, a departure from the frenetic group dynamics of some of McGregor’s past works. This quieter approach allows for moments of intimacy, where the dancers’ individuality shines through. One standout duet between two male dancers—perhaps Jasiah Marshall and Jordan James Bridge, though the minimal costuming makes it hard to identify performers with certainty—unfolds with a tenderness that catches the breath. Their hands reach toward each other, bodies curling and unfurling in a slow, deliberate exchange that feels like a rare glimpse of connection amid the abstraction. Another solo, marked by a dancer’s whirling spins and sudden stillness, captures the weightlessness of a creature adrift in the deep, the Vantablack backdrop amplifying the sense of isolation.
Yet, for all its physical brilliance, the choreography often feels like a showcase of technique rather than an emotional journey. The undulations and leg splays, while impeccably executed, echo patterns I’ve seen in McGregor’s earlier works—think Autobiography or UniVerse—and after a while, they blur into a hypnotic sameness. There are flickers of innovation, like a sequence where the dancers’ translucent organza costumes ripple under spotlights, transforming them into jellyfish-like apparitions, but these moments are fleeting. Too often, the movement seems to chase the technology rather than stand on its own, leaving me admiring the dancers’ skill without feeling their story.
The Soundscape: A Contrarian Symphony
If the choreography is the body of Deepstaria, the soundscape is its restless soul. Composed by Becker, an Oscar-winning sound designer, and LEXX, with Bronze AI manipulating the audio in real time, the score is a daring experiment. It rejects melody, rhythm, and predictability, opting instead for a collage of industrial hums, alien squeals, and electric pulses. At its best, it conjures the eerie stillness of the deep sea—watery echoes and distant vibrations that pair hauntingly with the dancers’ fluid motions. At its worst, it’s an assault, a cacophony that grates on the nerves and numbs the senses.
The use of Bronze AI is a talking point, billed as a revolutionary tool that makes recorded music feel live and unpredictable. In theory, this aligns with McGregor’s fascination with science and chance, nodding to the legacy of Merce Cunningham. In practice, it’s hard to discern how much the AI shapes the experience versus the pre-composed elements. Two brief sections hint at rhythm—a pulsing beat that briefly syncs with the dancers’ steps—but these are anomalies in an otherwise amorphous soundscape. After 75 minutes, the lack of structure becomes wearing, and I found myself longing for a melody to anchor the chaos, something to tether the movement to a human pulse.
The Visuals: A Feast for the Eyes
Visually, Deepstaria is a triumph. The Vantablack panel is a marvel, its light-absorbing properties creating a void so deep it feels like a portal to another dimension. Baumgartner’s lighting is equally mesmerizing, shifting from stark whites to blood-red columns that evoke the womb-like depths of the ocean. At one point, small rectangles of light bathe both stage and audience, a sci-fi flourish that momentarily bridges the divide between performers and spectators. Later, beams transform the dancers into sea anemones, their shadows stretching across the stage in a dance of their own.
The costumes, initially minimal black undergarments, evolve into diaphanous organza layers that catch the light beautifully. Designed by Ilaria Martello, these later outfits enhance the jellyfish motif, their ripples turning the air into water. It’s a subtle but effective shift, one that elevates the visual storytelling where the choreography sometimes falters. Together, these elements create a stage that feels alive, a virtual black hole that mirrors the unknowable spaces McGregor seeks to explore.
The Emotional Disconnect
For all its technical prowess, Deepstaria struggles to stir the heart. McGregor’s intent—to meditate on mortality and our place in the universe—is ambitious, but the execution feels more cerebral than visceral. The dancers are captivating, their movements a testament to years of training and trust in McGregor’s vision, yet they remain distant figures, more like specimens under a microscope than conduits of feeling. The tender duet stands out precisely because it’s an exception, a fleeting moment of humanity in a sea of abstraction.
Critics have noted this too. The Stage praises the “big ideas and innovations” but hints at a lack of emotional depth, while The Guardian finds “incredibly tender movement” amid the quiet choreography, suggesting pockets of connection that don’t fully coalesce. The Independent calls it “bold and beautiful” but admits it can “get stuck in a groove,” a sentiment echoed by Everything Theatre, which finds the piece “impressive and powerful” yet “a little long.” My experience aligns with these views: I was awed by the spectacle, impressed by the dancers, and intrigued by the technology, but I left the theater with my emotions intact, my tears unshed.
Innovation vs. Impact
McGregor has spent over three decades pushing the boundaries of dance, and Deepstaria is a testament to his relentless curiosity. The integration of Vantablack and Bronze AI marks a new frontier, a fusion of art and science that challenges how we experience performance. Compared to last year’s Maddaddam, which some found heinous, or the eco-conscious UniVerse, which startled with its clarity, this piece feels like a step forward in ambition, if not in resonance. It’s a work that demands attention, that dares to be different, yet it doesn’t quite reach the heights of his most affecting creations.
The 75-minute runtime, unbroken by an interval, is a deliberate choice to immerse us in the void, and it mostly succeeds. There’s no shattering of the illusion, no jarring return to reality, but there’s also no crescendo to reward the journey. The Times describes it as a “meditation on the unknowable” that “can’t lead anywhere,” a fair assessment of its circular nature. For some, this might be the point— a reflection of the void’s futility—but for me, it left a void of its own, a sense of potential unfulfilled.
The Legacy of Company Wayne McGregor
Celebrating 30 years of Company Wayne McGregor, Deepstaria reaffirms the troupe’s status as one of the world’s finest. These dancers are a privilege to watch, their precision and fearlessness a reminder of why McGregor remains a titan of contemporary dance. The piece arrives on the heels of a global tour, following its debut in Montpellier, France, in June 2024, and it’s clear that this is a company at the peak of its powers, even if the work itself doesn’t always match their brilliance.
Later in 2025, an exhibition at Somerset House will delve into McGregor’s 30-year career, and Deepstaria feels like a fitting chapter in that story—a bold experiment that pushes the form forward, even if it doesn’t fully land. It’s the first part of a diptych, with On the Other Earth set to premiere later this year in a 360-degree LED interactive screen. Perhaps that second installment will build on what Deepstaria begins, offering the emotional anchor this piece lacks.
Final Thoughts
As I stepped out into the London night, the echoes of Deepstaria lingered—a blur of fluid bodies, pulsating sounds, and unfathomable darkness. It’s a work that dazzles the senses and challenges the mind, a testament to McGregor’s singular vision and his dancers’ extraordinary talent. Yet, for all its innovation, it’s a piece that I admired more than I felt, a journey into the void that left me floating rather than grounded.
Would I dive in again? Perhaps, if only to catch those fleeting moments of magic—the tender duet, the jellyfish transformation, the interplay of light and shadow. But as a meditation on mortality, it falls short of transcendence, proving that even the deepest waters can sometimes feel shallow. Deepstaria is a bold leap into the unknown, but like the jellyfish it honors, it drifts more than it drives, leaving us to marvel at its beauty without truly knowing its depths.
Rating: ★★★☆☆
Company Wayne McGregor: Deepstaria ran at Sadler’s Wells, London, from February 27 to March 2, 2025.
