By Kathy Valin
Enquirer Contributor

Maybe phenomenal dancing is contagious. It seemed that way at Sunday night's performance by Complexions at the Aronoff Center's Procter & Gamble Hall presented by ballet tech ohio. During the program, 20 amazing performers filled the stage with nonpareil physicality, led by the magnificent example of Desmond Richardson.

If the gnarly choreography of Dwight Rhoden (co-founding artistic director along with Richardson) is something of an acquired taste, many in attendance couldn't get enough of it, screaming and hooting their approval in rousing ovations. Rhoden himself describes his work as intentionally dense, and very cinematic. "It should wash over you," he has said.

Sandy Brown and Seth Delgrasso were physically infatuated in "Ave Maria." A highlight was a sustained deep plie (knees bent) on pointe. "Sweet Low Rise," to Gershwin sung by Nina Simone featured two lovers, the expressive Sarita Allen (decades older than anyone else on stage) and Edward Franklin, in a troubled relationship, alternatively abusive and passionate. Desmond Richardson's "Solo," paired with music by Prince, drew gasps of amazement. Rhoden's choreography fits him like a glove, and the total control of his phenomenal technique was devastating.

But it was two segments from Rhoden's blistering, "Anthem - The Clearing," evoking the terror attacks of 9-11, that took the roof off the house. In "White," 19 dancers in couples, groups and formations moved fluidly, with isolated impulses traveling robotically through them. Weight was carried into the floor. Quick thrusting directional changes took place to a score of piano, strings and loud percussion. One woman on pointe performed perfect supported multiple turns. High leg extensions were held momentarily to the side or backwards in a plunging arabesque. Dancers wiggled, turned, and rotated, at the mercy of some unseen force. When a sinuous Richardson soloed, every fiber of his body vibrated with life, driven by inner intensity. Dancers looked up together at some invisible horror, finally inescapable.

Flung and falling together, their hands clasped in desperate partnerships. They leaned into positions impossible to hold, or collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, twitching convulsively. One searing image had a dancer momentarily held aloft by others, arms and legs outstretched as though he were in free fall. Finally, as a powerful gospel singer asked "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?," the dancers became more yielding and jazzier. The music collage was always key. A highlight of the second segment, "Red," was danced to Jimi Hendrix' tormented "Star Spangled Banner." To the screaming feedback of his electric guitar, it featured running and spinning encounters between dancers, awesome in abrupt directional changes.

The cumulative power of Rhoden's choreography is hard to describe, but undeniable. Though the steps, episodes and encounters were not traditional, and mostly on the same level of intensity - high - the proficiency and commitment the dancers brought to achieve them sent the work to a level seldom seen on stage.