A few years ago, Taiwanese choreographer Lai Hung-Chung witnessed a car accident. Shocked and disturbed by it, he nevertheless found himself unable to articulate his turbulent thoughts. Soon however, Lai came to realise that this ‘indescribable state’ was something we all experience at different points in our lives, triggered by many different events: death, loss, separation.

See You is the work that evolved from his exploration of the indescribable. By its nature it’s not a literal piece of dance, and yet in among Lai’s discombobulating landscape of movement are fleeting images we recognise: a slumped body, an embrace, two people trying desperately to connect. These come and go with the ebb and flow of the movement, in among unsettling moods and moments of tenderness that ambush you to take your breath away. Lai’s vision has the precision of calligraphy and the breadth of a symphony, brought into being by a phenomenal team of dancers.

One of the great powers of choreography is to put images into your mind that you’ve never seen before and may never see again. In See You, it’s the line of tightly pressed dancers shuffling side by side, one of them clasped horizontally at waist height, their trapped legs flailing helplessly. Or a maze of bodies shape-shifting to block the path of an individual as she tries to escape. Or the multi-headed snake of dancers, all facing forwards, necks whipping from side to side. 

^{Picture: Chen Chih-Chang}

Yet the piece also blindsides you with its descriptions of intimacy and longing. Two dancers stand staring at each other, mirroring tiny movements as the distance between them shrinks but never quite closes; it’s a heart-breaking image of the bittersweetness of grief. 

Yang Yu-Teh has designed costumes that echo this state of disruption. Deceptively plain, in ivory linen, on closer inspection they reveal ruches and irregular patterns of embroidery or are sharply bisected by a slash of fabric in another colour. The score, composed by Hsu Chia-Wei, similarly welds together unexpected sounds; ghostly electro interrupted by the groaning of strings, or electrical clicks that are later contrasted with the soft pattering of rain.

Lai Hung-Chung is still a young choreographer who, in the last six or so years, has been scooping up awards in his home country. He is a startling and rare talent. Let’s hope this won’t be the last time that Edinburgh Festival audiences see him and his brilliant company.

Dance Base, until 28 August, 5.30pm.