Do yourself and the city a favor and see Kidd Pivot at On the Boards this weekend. You've been trying to limber up the rigid bodies and brains at Pacific Northwest Ballet for the last couple of years (bringing dances by Jerome Robbins, Benjamin Millepied, and William Forsythe), but this shit will blow your skull open.
Crystal Pite's choreography begins with a brawl—an obscure (possibly schoolyard) battle royale that ends in murder, performed in dim light. The choreography gets a little redundant in the middle, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. But that doesn't matter.
What matters is the way these dancers move. I've never seen anything like it—from their guts: twirling; worming; popping and locking; extending; lifting and soaring; then undulating like kelp, bearing all their weight on the tops of their feet; fighting; fucking; walking down the street; jostling in line; hypnotizing each other.
They all seemed to have extra joints the rest of us don't—they were not of this earth, Mr. Boal.
I thought of you while I watched them. Since you've come to Seattle, you've been pushing your company and your audience in directions they don't always like. For that, I commend you. Your predecessors, the Stowells, programmed like they were lecturing, handing down doctrine. Your programming is more like a series of questions—about ballet, about music, about dance in general.
These dancers may be one of the answers you're looking for.
(Dear the rest of you: If you give a damn about dance, see Kidd Pivot. It will recalibrate the way you think about bodies in motion.)