The cast are stupidly multi-talented. If it is sometimes the case in these blended productions that you can separate the main characters into dancers and actors, singers and clowns, here the cast move between vocal projection and physical manipulation—as well as portraying multiple characters—without friction. While the musicians stay at a distance from the main cast, acting like a Greek chorus, they too are integrated into Hades’ underworld as the newly dead, dropping in at their appointed time. I particularly liked catching one singer diligently filling out her form in the background while waiting for her musical number. 

Duke’s movement language is crafted for each performer, and determined by what each scene needs, though there are some commonalities. Passionate duets, as well as protective group sequences, all feature strong physical connections between the dancers in their taut and pulled linked arms that re-find and guide each other. There is an enjoyable retelling of Jason’s trials in which the dancers move through a cacophony of Greek friezes. Music and sound don’t worry about being anachronistic or in different languages. Directorial decisions like these are visually and sonically distinct enough to communicate to the audience a new emotion or setting and trust their intelligence.

As a retelling of a classic myth, it is not that well trodden path of the female character explaining her actions from her perspective. Rather, “Ruination” shows us Medea asking Jason to tell the truth—to acknowledge shared blame in her crimes, and shared acknowledgement in his victories. It is also a tale of love and passion, where the characters, the storytelling and the dancing all get caught up in a lovers’ embrace, and choose to linger there awhile. A final reckoning, and the wintry outdoors, can wait a little longer.