In some ways, Believe is like a durational art installation. Lotus Eddé Khouri and Christophe Macé stand side by side throughout, fixed in a spotlight. The music (Purcell’s Cold Song) plays on a loop. Occasionally the light flickers. The action is minimal: just tremors and quivers that unsettle the surface of these expressionless bodies, but do not displace them.

Yet it’s a work of theatre, not art, with a beginning, an arc and an end. At first, the music sets the mood: a nervy harpsichord jangle, a jabbing voice climbing then subsiding over a steady chordal march. Distortions creep imperceptibly in – stuck-record replays, noise warps – and the couple’s constant tremble is interrupted by elbow sideslips, itchy glitches, even momentary pauses. It’s like watching a rigid structure being shaken from within. It ends as implacably as it had begun, the passage of time marked only by sweat patches blooming on the performer’s t-shirts.

A hypnotic, audacious work, tenacious in the pursuit of its own compositional idea.

Like a seismograph recording the motion of the ground, two figures in dark t-shirts and jeans tremble in response to the vibrations of Klaus Nomi’s version of Purcell’s Cold Song. Believe is not about who these figures are, but rather what they are experiencing; not about their volition, but rather about connecting to the music. Barefoot, standing still from beginning to end, faces fixed on the horizon, they start shaking their upper body, resigned. The constrained movement is in itself a statement: not everything in dance has to be expansive. It is like a concentration of energy just before an earthquake. As the distortion of the music grows heavier, the tremors now take over the whole body. Despite that quaking crescendo, the music loop creates a meditative state. It eventually reaches its climax, and the shaking bodies find their own way back to the beginning.

Clad in simple black clothes, two people enter the space, sombre and earnest. They plant themselves side by side, in the centre of the stage and here they remain, solid and in solidarity.

Shuddering into life, the duo pass through a complex mosaic of emotional states. Their upper body movements, brittle yet guttural, drive the piece on as though they are both bound to and compelled by this fragmented locomotion.

Framed by Klaus Nomi’s rendition of Cold Song played in mesmeric repetition, Believe unfolds in distinct chapters, creating a calming rhythm where minute shifts in the physical quality become satisfyingly magnified.

Moments of surprise synchronicity suggest a deep affinity or visceral bond between the two beings. Pauses, shifts in tempo and sudden changes of light provide pleasing punctuation to their relentless endeavour.

Refined and essential, Structure-couple offer a deeply sincere work which is emotive and hypnotic.