MIF15: Tree of Codes @ Opera House, Manchester

Tree of Codes does what Manchester International Festival does best: bring together several interesting artists and set them loose on an unusual project, in this instance a ballet based on Jonathan Safran Foer’s book of the same title. MIF’s crack team here includes choreographer Wayne McGregor, artist Olafur Eliasson and composer Jamie xx, and the resulting ballet is exciting and mesmerising but, like the book itself, ultimately unknowable.

The production starts with the dancers – made up of performers from McGregor’s own company and the Paris Opera Ballet – taking the stage in black body suits studded with lights, rather like those used in motion capture for CGI characters. As the performers move, the lights change in synchronicity with their movements, creating elegant patterns in the air.

After this brief introduction things take on a more recognisable form, with dancers performing in a mixture of contemporary and ballet styles. They leap, intertwine and escape from one another, but to quite what purpose remains unclear. In fact, for the remaining hour of the ballet there are few stylistic changes, with the opening blacked-out sequence remaining the most memorable.

What does change, though, is the set. Based on a complex series of mirrors, Eliasson's design allows the dancers to dance with themselves, their reflections stretching off into infinity. Windows slowly open and panels rotate within the stage, creating holes and gaps similar to those in Foer’s novel (which was made by cutting out words from Bruno Schulz’s book The Street of Crocodiles). The stage is bathed in red and blue light, which refracts and reflects as the glass panels swing into motion. A spotlight roams the audience at various points, allowing people to see themselves reflected in the mirror at the back of the stage – a rather unnerving experience for some, judging by the embarrassed looks on their faces.

Jamie xx’s music thuds along pleasantly enough, with rising and falling piano and organ that would make a great soundtrack to a new-age religious ceremony. It fits well with the choreography, and supports the spectacular staging without being too intrusive.

By the end I find my energy flagging – it is hard to stay engaged for 75 minutes of anything without narrative, no matter how impressive. But, as previously stated, this is the kind of work MIF does well: art for art’s sake. However, that doesn’t necessarily make for work that feels very meaningful, and Tree of Codes reminds me of Robert Wilson’s The Old Woman from MIF 2013: something you are impressed by, that you talk about with your friends, but that you don’t necessarily feel an emotional connection with.