Created by artistic director Rafael Bonachela, “momenta” is a one-act, 75-minute, whirlwind of power, grace, and physicality. As Bonachela describes it, “momenta” is the plural of momentum, and so with it, “momenta implies a series of momentums.”And indeed the work lives up to its name. The stage opens with a bare floor, dimly lit. Stage left hangs a huge basket of spotlights burning bright, while the far corners of the stage remain dark. As the work begins, Nick Wales’s divine score starts to ring out across the theatre. Orchestral violins shatter the darkness, and the dancers begin to appear. Androgynous, in flesh-toned outfits, the dancers begin to move with strength and grace, robotic arm movements key in the opening scenes, every muscle illuminated by the shadows of Damien Cooper's clever lighting design. And so the “momenta” begins.

“momenta” has no defined narrative, but the score slowly builds, and with it, the dancers weave their magic. In true Bonachela style, the choreography is mesmerising. Limbs appear like ribbons in the wind, weaving between each other, no apparent start or end to any movement—it seems impossibly difficult to learn or re-create. As the work progresses different combinations of solos, duos and trios enter and exit the stage. Within the choreography, there are clever lifts and falls, as dancers throw and catch each, millimetres from the floor. It is ethereal yet powerful all at once.