Standing before us, tightly buttoned-up in full Scottish regalia, Charlotte Mclean is the epitome of conformity. From her silver-trimmed jacket, down to her kilt, tartan socks and strapped-up Ghillies, she is the neat face of Highland dancing. And as she starts to hop daintily between the crossed swords beneath her feet, it’s all looking very pretty and twee. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that, but we’ve arrived assuming Mclean has something more to share than fancy footwork. And we’re right.

Half an hour later, this image has been blasted out of the water. Sword dancing has been replaced by contemporary dance, the quick wit has been swapped for serious intent and the Highland gear sits lifeless in a corner. With the lights lowered, Mclean lays on the floor, her bare body glistening with exertion, silently screaming in a potent mix of agony, frustration, anger and, perhaps, pleasure. The female body experiences all of these, especially where reproduction is concerned. Talking as she moves, she alights gently on miscarriage, abortion and the children she hopes to have in the future.

^{Pictures: Maria Falconer}

Mclean also touches on the often unbearable weight of modern conundrums: are we doing too much? Or not enough? How do we navigate Brexit, and climate change, the war in Ukraine and the umpteen other concerns that rush at us on a daily basis?

And started life as a text message to a friend in 2017 and has undergone various incarnations since then; and will do so again. Mclean hopes to perform it ‘for the rest of her life’, stating that it will ‘transform and grow with her’. This is a fascinating prospect, and you get a real sense that this autobiographical dance poem will change exponentially as Mclean’s body ages and her experiences gather. Yet it will surely retain wit and wisdom, and an edge as sharp as the swords she dances on.

Dance Base, until 28 August, 6pm.