In "Erased by Degrees," the dancers ran across the space backward, one by one, and bumped into Erin Owen, who was standing calmly at one side. In some kind of nightmare cycle, they returned one by one and displayed themselves right in front of her, with bursts of agitato dancing. She stood her ground. They came closer. She flinched. They trespassed into her personal space. She tried to go; others came and held her there. Corriston confronted her within inches, with minute but powerful jabs of his whole side, his arm. Netta Yerushalmy twisted her hands as if she were about to dig into Owen's stomach. None of Owen's aggressors touched her.
Through all the personal revelation and competition, the hysteria, fear, and frustration implied in these sketches, the emotional tone was often soft, and the opponents avoided violent contact. It was as if these individuals had agreed to maintain a degree of civility in order to go on together. At the end, they flung themselves into wild motion again, and falling and swirling lifts. The music ramped up into loud ascending and descending chords and then quieted down. Two people exited together, and the rest followed in a half-hearted line-up, as if they weren't sure getting in step was a good idea.
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