Tanowitz consistently brings back the original motif of prancing, the circling chassés, languid développés. Facings change, feet stomp. There seems no end to the possibilities. My eyes begin to cross, yet there are nice surprises. Toogood and Lozano have a duet where they walk together hand over hand like a skating pair, then in tandem sit into their right hips. Three dancers line up on relevé, arms in fifth, then the center dancer crumples to the floor as if she has fainted. Okamura awkwardly jumps on the back of a crouching Lawson.

When Toogood and Lozano take bows, the audience thinks the show is over and applauds. But the remaining cast dances on, perhaps even raising the temperature a notch. Eventually there are more bows, but now we hesitate, hands midway to a clap. In the end, everyone lies prone in tidy sardine rows. The house lights go up. Some of the audience begins to file out. Eventually the dancers one by one rise and exit. Attention getting and anti-climactic at the same time, they don’t really get the applause they’re due.

And yet, the evening’s not over. We’re invited to an epilogue by Toogood in the Glade. We snake our way up a ramp and stairs onto a grassy knoll where she is a vision in silvery sequins, moving to music with a single poignant lyric on repeat: “Don’t go wasting your emotion; lay all your love on me.” At the end, she bows, pauses, then begins again twice more, a mechanical ballerina atop a wind-up music box. It’s a kiss goodnight after an enchanting evening.