The signing may have given some indication of the sounds accompanying each piece but it was utterly to the detriment of the dance

The signing may have given some indication of the sounds accompanying each piece but it was utterly to the detriment of the dance performance as a whole.Sign-language interpreted performance (SLIP) in the opera house – where there are at least words – has attracted as much controversy as surtitles and, although the Royal Opera and English National Opera have been putting on SLIPs for years, it still arouses the ire of some baffled opera-goers. But the audience couldn’t help but be distracted or fascinated or irritated, depending on its personal reaction, by a series of movements that didn’t correspond in any way with the carefully co-ordinated sequence of activity going on alongside it. He’s fascinated by the relationship between rhythm, music, sign language and dance, and he worked valiantly at the Lowry to prove it. A puzzled friend, situated well to one side of the balcony and catching only the odd glimpse of the signer’s hands, actually assumed that the dancers must still be in need of signalled guidance through their movements.To his credit, Paul Whittaker, of Music for the Deaf, himself profoundly deaf, seemed quite at ease in his unusual role. Surely only someone with little sense of the drama of dance or the atmosphere of a subtly lit scenario could have placed a signer – who needs to be lit up to be effective – a mere step or two away from the dancers?With this extraneous gesturing figure sited well within the range of vision of most of the audience, what chance was there to be able to focus properly on the dancers’ intricate sequences of movement? And what was left of the brooding atmosphere of the world premiere of Rafael Bonachela’s Curious Conscience, evoking the luminous nocturnal soundworld of Britten’s Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings? Precious little, even for deaf viewers, I imagine.No matter how hard I longed for the poor view of the stage that plagues me in so many theatres – big hair or a bobbing head blocking my view of the stage – the perfect sightlines of the Lowry’s Lyric Theatre offered no such lucky escape. Whether or not he also conveyed any white noise, hum or hiss, I can’t say as I was trying very hard not to see him But I simply couldn’t miss him.

As the dancers limbered up, the valiant signer, Paul Whittaker, mimed a strummed guitar and communicated the opening words of Wire’s punk hit with gusto. Dance fans with mild to severe hearing loss could now in theory appreciate the highs and lows, the scrapes and tootles, and the tempos and rhythms of the accompanying music.
Actually, there were some words in the only recorded soundtrack of the evening – Bruce Gilbert’s “Feeling Called Love” and “Do You Me? I Did” – in Michael Clark’s Swamp. It’s about movement, colour, lighting, unexpected and challenging physical encounters and ever-changing patterns Above all, it’s there to be looked at. Yet when, for one performance at the Lowry, in Salford, last weekend, Rambert Dance Company featured a simultaneous sign-language description, it raised a good few questions, primarily: “Why?”

The signing was not of words, since they’re seldom basic to dance, and not of the choreographer’s artistic intentions since they should be clear to the eye, but of the music.

Dance, for goodness’ sake, is one of the most visual of all the arts. We’re used to Osborne’s heroes that fly off the handle but when a door stuck at a sexually vital moment, this hero pulled off its handle – and lead off his conquest through the kitchen.. An evening of dance signed for deaf people? Surely this is political correctness taken to an extreme. Gill’s production demonstrates this collaborative work is a genuine ensemble piece, with a cast graced by Anne Reid’s superb performance as the prattling but controlling mother.There was a hiccup on press night. But that is unnecessary, for the actress splendidly communicates the poignant mix of weary, battle-scarred experience, fragile hope, and ironic amusement in the great scene where she and George never quite click as lonely soul-mates because she can see through him to the point of issuing a challenge that he should stop blaming the public.Left to his own devices, Osborne tended to produce dramas monopolised by motormouth protagonists.