Reviewed today are Fall and Recover at the SFX, Dublin andColours From a Desert and Karin Schafer Figuren Theater at the Lambert Puppet Theatre

Fall and Recover

SFX, Dublin

Michael Seaver

Often there is just one moment in a dance that captures all that goes before and after, a single gesture that distils the essence of what is being communicated. Near the beginning of Fall and Recover, performed by two members of Irish Modern Dance Theatre and 11 from the Centre for the Care of Victims of Torture, the lines of paper that cover the floor are ripped up, tossed in the air and the shreds slowly gathered up. Bathed in dim beige light, the white costumes of the 13 flailing dancers mingle in confusion with the flying shreds of paper tossed into the air. The beauty of the overall moving image is reinforced by the power of the gesture: destroying the past, gathering its remnants, putting them to the side and moving on to the future.

The paper-lined stage is unstable ground from the very beginning, the performers walking carefully on its surface, sitting and, with felt-tip pens, drawing individual gnarled maps of suffering as one performer voices her story in a language few of the audience could understand. After this the limpid shredding and shedding of the past opens the stage for individual stories.

Choreographed by John Scott, assisted by Philip Connaughton and Aisling Doyle, Fall and Recover resists an easy despair-to-hope narrative but presents personalised movement phrases that sway between what we see and what we choose to see. A joyous group of 12 dancers sing and stomp, dragging our gaze across the stage, but in their wake a single individual is left alone, falling to the ground, rolling and trying to get up again. At other times the centre-stage action draws us away from single figures, forgotten as they lean against the walls in half-light.

The performance steers clear of what might be dubbed "victim art", not just through the dignity of the performances but through the overall feeling of hope that permeates. Towards the end a simple hands-linked circle closes in on itself and the hands break and grapple towards the sky.

"I chose dance because I didn't have to speak," wrote one of the performers, and the power of simple images validated this choice. But, lest we forget, the final image is of the white outlines of prostrate bodies, not in paint or even chalk, but in salt: records of victims so easily blown away and forgotten.

Colours From a Desert (India), Karin Schafer Figuren Theater (Austria)

Lambert Puppet Theatre

Gerry Colgan

Two consecutive shows from different countries, and in wholly different styles, made for an enthralling evening at the international puppet festival.

First, Jagdish Bhatt brought traditional puppetry, the product of family generations, from Rajasthan. An audience charmer, the performer begins with the ritual of putting on his turban, a very long cloth that ends colourfully on his head.

Then comes the story of a king and his court enjoying a celebration that encompasses many entertainments. There are a camel and its two passengers, a snake-charmer and his cobra, exotic dancers, and much more.

These vignettes are played on a small stage upstairs, with the puppeteer mostly hidden behind a curtain. He uses only his fingers and strings to manipulate his assorted creations with extraordinary dexterity.

At the end, Bhatt emerges to give a full display of his talent, clearly the fruit of years of training and practice, and follows it with a question-and-answer session. He also talks about his life, as fascinating as his art, with unusual candour.

On a different level of sophistication is Karin Schafer's surreal show. It opens with a puppet painter drawing a picture, of a body with two heads.

This dissolves into a three-dimensional marionette, and the two heads begin to argue: you believe anything, so you're stupid; you believe nothing, so you're ignorant. The theme emerges, relating to whether there is a higher being managing everything - at which point the puppeteer reveals herself.

They won't believe her explanations, so she puts on exhibitions of her puppetry for them. There is a brilliant simulation of a concert pianist in action, a roller-blade athlete, and a haunting journey beneath the sea with marine life and exotic growths. At the end, the two heads still have their doubts. They cannot surrender their independent existence.

The mix here, of almost Beckettian dialogue and visual creations verging on the hypnotic, is masterly. Backed up with lighting, sound and efficient offstage helpers, this is puppetry of a very high order.