Parallels between a dancer’s body and a sculptor’s clay are drawn in this duet between 75-year-old artist Mike Sprogis and choreographer Julien Carlier. Sprogis begins by introducing us to the ideal conditions in which he likes to start work, the morning light picking out the stone dust in his studio. As his voiceover recounts this, Carlier marks the stage in white tape, as if prepping his own dance workspace. Sprogis mimes chiselling while the soundtrack chimes to the beats of his fists, and Carlier creates angular, solid shapes. It feels intriguing but cold.

The piece really warms up when Sprogis gets stuck into working a huge mass of clay in the centre of the stage. As he pummels, smooths and gouges, Carlier mirrors the clay’s movements, with fluid repetitions of hands passing elbows, and zig-zagging limbs. There is a startling moment when Sprogis holds up his creation and we can see that it’s a giant impression of Carlier’s face. It makes for a discombobulating effect. Carlier’s body crumples as Sprogis squashes the clay; the disconnect between inanimate face and alive body is almost alarming. 

From here they riff on ideas of sculpture and movement, the power passing between creator and creation. It’s pensive, a slow and considered piece that doesn’t force an interpretation but leaves plenty of space for imagination to fill in the blanks. 

Golem, Assembly @ Dance Base, until 25 August, 7.45pm; main picture: Stanislav Dobak.