After intermission Aaron Loux and Christina Sahaida share a single set of pyjamas in “Silhouettes” (1999), she the top, he the bottoms. Like the pjs, the two as partners are split, dancing alongside each other but never quite coming together. A constricted wrapping of the arms pretzel like around the head and one shoulder counters springy legwork. Loux spirals a loopy wiggle from his ankles all the way up to his eyes in a fluid wave. The music is comprised of five short pieces for piano, played live by Colin Fowler, which Morris brings to life with precise little balletic hops, skips, and turns. In the fourth, a minor chord is introduced which shifts the tone emotionally. Here, a section of movement phrases repeated from earlier seems completely different. The piece ends with the dancers collapsing and going back to sleep, as if the dance has all taken place inside a cartoon bubble of dream over their heads.

The finale of “Mosaic and United,” a tour de force from 1993 costumed by Isaac Mizrahi, feels one number too many. I understand the inclination to end the evening with gravitas, but I felt let down after the joyous high point of “You’ve Got to Be Modernistic.” Comprised of two separate music works performed by a string quartet, “Mosaic” has a driving energy, and “United,” is eerily haunting. An Egyptian motif recurs in angular elbows and flexed wrists, as well as a folk dance grapevine featuring high stepping, hands behind the back, dancers in lines that cross in and out. There’s an occasional funny tap on the top of the head. Repeatedly, the dancers lie on the floor, their bodies vibrating like violin strings. Joslin Vezeau is full starch to the softer men in this piece. Karlie Budge and Dallas McMurray draw my eye whenever they’re onstage. 

Overall, this program underscores the enduring nature of Morris’ virtuosity—demonstrating the value of supporting an artist and their collaborators over a creative lifetime, a model currently as precarious as the Roaring Twenties.