Ekman’s Cacti.

Intense, fun, captivating, irreverent. Made fun of itself, and of ballet critique, through a voice track that at times described what was going on and at times asked, in an anguished voice, “What does it mean?” Never a dull moment.

Memorable scene: a man, with his upper body bare, standing and posing in harsh side light. As the light switched from a source on the left to one on the right, everything changed, even though nothing did.

Hjálmarsdóttir’s Riptide.

Never really connected to this one. Already two weeks later I’ve mostly forgotten what it was like.

Naharin’s Minus 16. Same experience as last time: the initial Echad mi yodeah chair dance was powerful and unique (although a bit less so this time around because I knew what was happening) but the rest felt kind of pointless. Yes, the audience members they invited onto the scene had fun dancing, but it wasn’t interesting for me to watch other people dance with no particular choreography.