Astrid Dangeard’s and Jone’s powderkegged leaps and lunges and tricky legwork furthered that concept in this pushme/pullyou dance about connections broken, repaired and sometimes lost. The soundscape by Jasper Gahunia, Stephen Krecklo, William Lamoureux aka Earth Boring included a male voice repeatedly telling us to relax as if he were a gynecologist. I found it more annoying than relaxing but otherwise the music drove the choreography at a fast clip through wonderful duets and group sections of undulating hips, sudden clashes and equally sudden separations. And now I get the title. We meet people fleetingly, like them or not, and then forget about them. Tantalizingly, we continue to try to reconnect. A dance for our time.

Crystal Pite’s work, originally set on the now defunct Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet a decade ago, “Ten Duets on a Theme of Rescue” bridges the program. To a soundtrack of Solaris by Cliff Martinez for the Soderbergh remake of the Tarkovsky film the dancers often flow through a dreamlike atmosphere as if weightless. But with Jim French’s lighting, often only their feet were visible, forcing the eye to squint to see the upper body movement. Linda Chow’s dusky costumes furthered the difficulty of seeing the movement clearly. Even so, moments shone through. The work’s five dancers form same and opposite sex couples in various stages of flight or danger with one either coming to the other’s aid or ignoring their plight.

Andrew Mikhaiel and another male dancer duel athletically, and Jones and another woman play pattycake. but to what end, I am not convinced. Other sections do confirm Pite’s intent. Shanna Irwin follows Canfield, both bent-legged as if tiptoeing through a minefield, their hands covering their eyes so as not to see what happens. Canfield heroically follows a slow-stepping dancer as she dangles her arm behind as a lifeline. But he is blown back each time he barely reaches her, the flaps of his jacket flying upwards. Jones’ and Mikhaiel’s final duet affected some sense of safety reached, but I’d have welcomed a bar or two of Fontella Bass’s “Rescue Me” as a kicker at the end. It needed bit of wit.