A dancer on stage expects to be looked at; looked at with a critical, perhaps judgmental eye. Claire Cunningham, in this extraordinary short piece, directs our gaze and holds it. Inspired by the work of medieval Dutch painter Hieronymus Bosch, it conjures visions of an escape from hell, with Cunningham cowering in a corner, a stripe of light down her spine, arms bent backwards  and wavering in the air. Her crutches are additional limbs, flailing about, both supporting and hindering movement.

It is a considered and slow-paced dance, in dusky light that gradually builds to illuminate the space. The choreography is pared down to a limited range of movement, some uncomfortable-looking positions are held and tasks are performed until breaking point. There is physical difficulty here, and we are required to look and to consider suffering of others.

A musical switch from Zoë Irvine’s evocative soundscore to early choral music heightens the emotional impact. It accompanies a climactic moment as Cunningham, in just a vest, standing unaided, begins to quiver from the belly, her breath audible. It is a theatrical coup that validates the minimalism of the preceding twenty minutes. The dance ends with another effective surprise, a heart-felt rendition of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Christ lag in Todesbanden, sung from the back wall by this vulnerable figure, held aloft on crutches. Give Me A Reason To Live is a departure for Cunningham, whose previous works, whilst just as ideologically driven, have been more audience friendly and humour inflected.

One of Cunningham’s reference points is the Nazi Aktion T4 euthanasia programme which targeted disabled people. I’m not sure the piece as yet embodies that theme but it certainly makes you reflect on being in or out of control, of your body and your life.

It may benefit from further development, with richer choreography in the opening section, but it is a huge achievement to make something so emotionally and structurally raw that gets its message home this powerfully.