Sea Beneath the Skin/Song of the Earth review – sea, sand and ceremony as Mahler’s song cycle makes waves

Barbican Hall, London Samoan choreographer Lemi Ponifasio’s chant-filled music-theatre piece – performed by Theatre of Kiribati and Britten Sinfonia – pushes Mahler into uncharted waters Mahler’s Das Lied von der Erde already represents a culture clash, with a German text inspired by Chinese poetry set to music of early 20th-century Viennese headiness. Sea Beneath the Skin takes that a whole ocean further. The brainchild of the Samoan director, artist and choreographer Lemi Ponifasio, it’s an unclassifiable music-theatre piece that’s less a collision of worlds than a collusion between them. It begins with a woman walking on to the dark, glossy-floored stage, on which two white pillars stretch up to the roof to represent the trunks of giant kauri trees. Her song, rich-toned and short-phrased, is eventually answered by another woman high in the auditorium, and their duet grows in urgency and intensity. Later there will be four black-clad men dancing a neat cyclical routine involving lots of body percussion, then a third woman facing us down with terrifyingly aggressive shouted chants, and then a young man in Kiribati ceremonial dress, pouring white sand on to the stage from a black plastic bucket. What do these mean? It’s not clear, but they all frame and link the six movements of Mahler’s song cycle, in which the two singers are on stage as characters in some kind of undefined narrative.