The punning French title (both ‘hearts’ and ‘chorus’) introduces an abstract dance piece about the voice of The People in history. It’s performed by the Madrid chorus (a big acting and movement role) and orchestra, and a baker’s dozen of guest dancers. Conveniently in this bicentenary year the music is by Verdi and Wagner, a selection of choruses and preludes. This is balanced out by silences, and taped crowd noises and a speech by Desmond Tutu.

A booklet-note by the dramaturge anchors the project on a range of apparent contemporary parallels, including the Arab Spring risings and Riccardo Muti’s impromptu speech about Italian arts funding at his granting of a rare encore at the Rome Opera in 2011. But this show presents a bland revolution. What we see is essentially a suite of 18 unlinked pieces all saying the same thing: people are struggling to find freedom, democracy, equality. The work of the late Pina Bausch seems an influence but there is little of the bite, surprise or visual mastery of that lady’s work. The music choices are either obvious in narrative purpose (Verdi’s ‘Va pensiero’ and ‘Patria oppressa’, Wagner’s ‘Wach auf’ and Pilgrims’ Chorus) or just emotional backing tracks (the Traviata and Meistersinger Act 3 preludes).

Choreographer Alain Platel once did orthopaedic work with children. The main thrust of his movement vocabulary is sourced from copying the movements of people with cerebral palsy. Naturally this borders on the disturbing and grotesque, and is presumably so intended as an image of struggle. But the virtuosity of its realisation often takes the spectacle into dubious areas of taste. Combine that with a lack of anything very startling in the main drive of the show and you have an uneven product. It can be hard for the performers to maintain tension and line in such a random programme but the musical performance is excellent. The most positive thing here is that Madrid has a fine vocal ensemble who obviously enjoy stepping up to the acting plate.