Review: Meg Stuart and Tim Etchells in Shown and Told – the real deal… you can’t bottle this!

Matthew Paluch sees Meg Stuart and Tim Etchells in Shown and Told – “art with an agenda that doesn’t feel like a slap in the face doesn’t come around that often”.
| Title | Shown and Told |
| Company | Damaged Goods and Forced Entertainment |
| Venue | The Place, London |
| Date | 1 November 2024 |
| Reviewer | Matthew Paluch |
You can tell a lot by a crowd, and the group gathered to see Shown and Told by Meg Stuart and Tim Etchells were no joke.
I’m sure there was the odd civilian, but what I mostly saw was the who’s who of the (serious) dance ecology – festival directors, academics, makers etc.
Why? Because Stuart and Etchells are the real deal. Creatives who’ve been making work for over 70 years collectively, and Shown and Told is the first time they’ve appeared in a work together. Disclaimer: I haven’t seen either of them perform before, which seems difficult to believe but is the case nevertheless.
Shown and Told does exactly what it says on the tin. It shows and tells using movement and words. No set and minimal, atmospheric lighting sets the stage for Stuart and Etchells to play within their world – one that’s simultaneously about nothing in particular and everything, accessible yet profound, engaging yet subtle.
There are numerous interludes – or should I say games or tasks? – where the duo work at times independently but never disassociated, and at others in a very literal, connected manner. Unspoken awareness seems to be the name of the game.
The opening section sees Etchells talk, and Stuart move. “It’s like…” is how Etchells starts every sentence, and it could go anywhere, and does. Initially, it seems like Stuart is doing her own thing, with total conviction, but then her movement starts to relate to the words (or vice versa), and in a very literal way through certain choices. Stuart doesn’t perform, she embodies, and this is addictive stuff. Etchells mentioned memory, as in remember and Stuart turned in an instance and saw something from her past. Simple movement fuelled by intention needs very little to make a huge impact.
Stuart then took over and discussed her calling, “I dance because…”. It’s rare that a dancer by trade can do “talking” but Stuart can, in the same way she moves, with purpose and honesty. As she listed a plethora of reasons I wondered if they were all hers? Not because they didn’t make sense, but rather they seemed so realistic and broad in reasoning.
Elsewhere they played with the idea of charades, the building of cities – ranging from crystals to snot – and location: “are you there? I’m here”, “I’m here!”
It all seems a little loose on paper, pointless even, but in the moment, it’s about play, exploration and analysis, which are ideal notions with which to discover dance, or philosophy, or life for that matter.
As the work progresses the pair become even more interesting to watch. Etchells isn’t a practising dancer, so his movement has a pedestrian simplicity that says genuine throughout. Stuart is a thoroughbred and offers dynamic execution like few others and also disregard. My favourite moment was when she leaned on the back wall around a corner in almost complete darkness. Why? Don’t ask me, I just saw and felt a real artist in self-aware repose, not “switched on” but still totally present. You can’t bottle that.
It makes sense for Shown and Told to be programmed at The Place. It’s a progressive space, and Stuart and Etchells aren’t standing still. The work speaks about something and nothing, and art with an agenda that doesn’t feel like a slap in the face doesn’t come around that often.



