Of course, it would not be a Shechter piece if the live musicians were not the focal point during certain points in the choreography. So, it was not surprising when a set of curtains opened to showcase the three musicians in red-orange suits driving the high decibel acoustics.

And there was some curtain humor too—as when one dancer was pushed out of the scene’s enclosure and onto the floor. A few seconds later, the curtains opened momentarily to allow another dancer to quickly retrieve the ejected dancer and pull her back into the dream.

About halfway through the evening the musicians again came into view, singing a sultry Latin dance tune. The dancers, in their own space, formed a line swaying together and then broke into couples and a trio for partner dancing with fluid, salsa moves. Continuing the nightclub vibe, they danced right through the fake scrim toward the audience and encouraged viewers to join in the dancing (there was ample room in the theater’s set-up). And for the remainder of that dreamy number, the audience members were in the dance sharing the same dream. 

Comings and goings continued with larger groups (twelve dancers altogether) gathering steam to form a circle dance that broke into an ecstatic party scene. The hyper-energized frenzy kept building with curtains and panels opening and closing—finally climaxing to reveal… one more curtain, draped in champagne-colored luxuriant folds and set off in an ethereal light. The dance should have ended there, but it did not. And no one minded—because no one wanted this dance dream to end.