Dance Out

In a city known for its dance, music and nightlife culture, this exhibition of paintings, drawings and film, soundtracked by local DJs, is a celebration of the human body and the carefree energy of dance

Royal West of England Academy, Bristol
9 May – 9 August 2026

by DAVID TRIGG

In Gillian Wearing’s Dancing in Peckham (1994), the artist throws shapes in the middle of a London shopping precinct, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. Without headphones and unaccompanied by music, she flails her limbs as baffled passersby look on askance. This classic of British video art, which was inspired by a woman Wearing had observed dancing uninhibitedly by herself at a jazz gig, interrogates how context informs what is considered “normal” or “eccentric” behaviour. But it also celebrates the simple joy of expressing oneself through gesture, rhythm and movement – a sentiment found at the heart of this lively exhibition at the Royal West of England Academy (RWA), which examines the many ways that artists have attempted to capture the power of dance and being swept along by the beat.

David Remfry, who has co-curated the exhibition with the art historian James Russell, has been depicting after-hours dancing since his student days in 1960s Hull, where he would surreptitiously sketch the local fishermen and their glamorous partners in the legendary Locarno ballroom and nightclub. Several of his drawings and large-scale watercolours are on display, from stylish couples dancing arm-in-arm in New York City, London and Hull, to single figures in joyous abandon. An exuberant 1996 portrait of the singer songwriter Lezlie Harrison captures a moment of pure delight as she raises her hands with a huge smile on her face. Remfry’s confident draughtsmanship, which he combines with diaphanous washes of pigment, is a masterclass in capturing the intimate energy and carefree atmosphere of the dancefloor. 

David Remfry, Nightclubbing, 2010. Watercolour on paper, 152 x 102 cm. Marcus Leith.

Another artist taking inspiration from smoky clubs is Denzil Forrester, who was a regular at East London’s dub-reggae parties in the 1980s, where he would sketch the crowd in situ and later use the drawings as source material for his vibrant paintings. The intoxicating pulse of the dancehall is felt in works such as the semi-abstract Itchin’ & Scratchin’ (2019), in which a large crowd of revellers swaying before a throbbing sound system seem to dissolve into an abstract mass of kinetic geometries. A much earlier work, Blue Tent (1984), combines the rhythmic movement of club-goers with the fluttering fabric of a marquee blown by the wind. Although Forrester has routinely addressed themes of racism and prejudice, those tensions are not seen here. Rather, the club is presented as a space of escape and respite from such challenges.

The sense of “losing it” on the dance floor, of being transported from the drudgery of everyday life and into another world, is suggested by the paintings of Amy Dury. But whereas Remfry and Forrester work from direct observation, Dury uses found imagery in the construction of her richly coloured paintings of men and women dancing. One can only surmise what tunes her figures are getting down to, though their hairstyles and attire point to the 70s when disco was going mainstream. Nostalgia for a bygone era that may or may not have existed seems to be at play here, with each canvas combining figuration, graphic floral motifs and gestural brushwork to create images tinged with the fantastical.

Paul Dash, Dancing in the Street, 1961. Oil on board, 61 x 77 cm.

One of the most formal and highly codified forms of dance is, of course, ballet. The French impressionist painter Edgar Degas was famously fascinated by the movement of ballerinas and, more recently, Silke Otto-Knapp drew inspiration from the avant-garde performances of modern ballet productions. Neither artist is included here, for the majority of works focus on dance as a leisure activity, occurring in sweaty nightclubs, ballrooms, or, as with Paul Dash’s bustling crowd scenes, in the streets during carnival. In this show, dance is presented as a form of liberation. As Tracey Emin states in her classic 1995 film Why I Never Became a Dancer: “It felt like I could defy gravity, as though my soul were truly free.” Even in Zoe Spowage’s painting Ballet, Living on Compliments (2023), two muscular, large-than-life women prance with energetic, uninhibited movements – a far cry from the disciplined precision of classical dance.

Dancers inside the gallery. Royal West of England Academy, Bristol, 9 May – 9 August 2026,.

“Those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music,” is the oft-quoted phrase that springs to mind when viewing Wearing’s Dancing in Peckham. But in the main gallery of the RWA, the music can be heard, for the show has been soundtracked by Bristol DJs d4rling, DJ Devolicious and Josephine Gyasi in response to the works on display. Not only does the mix of house, jazz, jungle, disco, samba, footwork and reggaeton (among other genres) fill the air, it can also be felt through a haptic dance floor, which transforms sound frequencies into physical vibrations. The exhibition is further animated at regular intervals through an ambitious live programme of dance events, including salsa classes, Afro-Cuban stilt performances, as well as workshops for those who, for various health reasons, find dancing difficult.

Melanie Manchot, Night Moves, 2026.

Bristol is world renowned for its dance, music and nightlife culture. Melanie Manchot’s newly commissioned Night Moves (2026) is a spectacular five-channel video installation in which Bristol-based dancers and groups perform after dark in locations around the city, from Stoke Park to Cumberland Basin to the roof of Trenchard Street car park. Skateboarders zoom past a pirouetting ballet dancer in a skate bowl, morris dancers perform in the shadow of Clifton Suspension Bridge, and a lone female dances to reggaeton on an old railway bridge. Visually and aurally arresting, it reflects the diverse cultural melting-pot of the city while asking subtle questions about the place of dance at a time when the night-time sector is battling severe economic headwinds, aggressive gentrification and the privatisation of public space. Above all, though, it is a compelling celebration of bodies moving in space – another reminder of the empowering nature of dance and its ability to strengthen our connection to each other and our own bodies.