Ever since learning of the riots at Nijinsky's premiere of Le Sacre du Printemps (The Rite of Spring) in 1913, I have pondered over the side I would have taken in that audience. Would I too have rallied in outrage? I would like to think not. Would I have left? Wouldn't have dreamt of it.

But what if you were to find yourself amongst rioters mid-performance today?
That was exactly my predicament at last night's performance at the Brighton Dome, young Israeli company Batsheva Ensemble's Deca Dance.

No less than four times did myself, my friend and dozens of audience members find themselves in close confines with randomly rising rioters yelling 'Free Palestine!', to which we were asked to maintain support for the highly professional performers by applauding the sound of the yells away.

The silent moments were the worst. They should have been the most potent injections of dramatic tension all night - and that they were - but for all the wrong reasons. We began to sit with baited breath, expecting at any point small groups in the audience to stand up and shout violently.

Never before have I witnessed such political rage in at such close proximity. Perhaps I am sheltered, naïve - after all, I was, prior to last night, pretty ignorant of Israel's current political situation - but from what I have read, I still feel there were absolutely no grounds for the diverse (both ethnically and creatively) performance to be cruelly interrupted.

Embarrassingly, Batsheva Ensemble have experienced a similar situation elsewhere on their UK tour, perhaps most notably at the Edinburgh Fringe. It is frankly humiliating on the UK's part that they are probably used to such behaviour by now, and disappointing that performances have been cancelled because of it.

The basis for protest seems to be that the company are representatives of Israel, praised by Israeli government - but their government's policies in no way necessarily equate to their own. This, in turn, is ignorant - ignorant of personal identity - and downright disrespectful to the undeniably straining and constantly committed lifestyles of such excellent performers, and to their passion and drive: their art, their dance.

People left, people shouted back, people even cried. But let's not forget that people stayed - and gave a largely standing ovation, at that. The right to dance prevailed.