We begin in a jostling nightclub on a Friday night. In Ed Burkes’ high key paintings, limbs jut and poses are struck on a harlequin dancefloor, while dissonances and harmonies are played on a keyboard of chromatic colours. There’s an implied rhythm of the night in Burkes’ work which thrums through each of his canvases, transporting us to that place of collective ecstasy you might feel when lost in the sounds of the dancefloor

Euphoria, however, is just a short step from delirium. In Fiona Finnegan’s oil and acrylic paintings on wood a quiet sense of unease stirs through the scenes, which have been stripped of the details to locate them in a particular time or place. In one work, naked women dance around a bonfire, while sparks are flung high into the night sky: is it a scene of joyful revelry, or are we witnessing an arcane ritual, perhaps inspired by the Celtic mythology that informs Finnegan’s art? Likewise, Dereck Harris – who uses stills from YouTube videos of contemporary dance as his source material – creates scenes of baroque spectacle, depicting writhing bodies under the glare of the artificial stage lighting. The effect is like that of an incantation, inviting us to step in, and join the dance.

If the flute lulls us with a heavenly melody, then Chantal Powell’s Sistrum series might wake us from a stupor, fixing us firmly in the here and now. The sistrum, an Ancient Egyptian rattle (that Powell recreates in ceramic form) was historically used in religious ceremonies when coming into the presence of deity. The shrill sound of clanging bronze might have alerted worshippers to come to their senses – a reminder to clear the mind and focus on the ensuing encounter. Plutarch, the Greek philosopher, wrote that the sistrum ‘makes it clear that all things in existence need to be shaken, or rattled about, and never to cease from motion.