A mysterious baroque music faded in on darkness at Northwest Portland’s BodyVox Dance Center. When the lights rose, dancer and choreographer Carlyn Hudson lay on her back downstage right, donning a sheer, bulbous, chiffon top, complete with a stand-up frill collar. As she began to move, three dancers joined her, one by one. They switched places, following one another’s staccato movements, until all stood regally on stage.

These were the first moments of Hudson’s newest work, A Presentation, which opened at BodyVox on Friday, Sept. 12, after a preview performance, and continues Saturday and Sunday, Sept. 13-14. The evening, which consists of two distinct works and a 20-minute intermission, sticks true to Hudson’s unique and unmistakable style.

Hudson, originally from New York, has been dancing and making contemporary ballet works in Portland for more than a decade. A founding member of SubRosa Dance Collective, her music choices, recognizable from the first few seconds, have been honed and developed into a distinct viewpoint over her career — adding to the quintessential sharp, serious, and graceful phrasing of her choreography.

A Predisposition, commissioned pre-pandemic, features dancers Anika Devore, Anna Ruth Ellis, and Grace Armstrong, along with Hudson. As the piece progressed, the movers conserved their energy in moments of calm, exploding with power later on.

The first baroque song, heard immediately in the evening, ended as the four sat to the floor, legs crossed, in a pool of light. Bladed hands and heavy elbows traced their torsos, knees, and hips, as outstretched arms reached high with bird-like fingers.

Here, Hudson’s attention to detail was evident. Each turn of the head and position of the pinky is relevant in the work, and even the dancers’ gazes can impact the piece’s timing. From kneeling to sitting and standing again, the dancers moved in unison, occasionally diverting to canon-style breaks. They brought to mind historic scenes of a resplendent court … animals waking from slumber … birds or insects navigating their surroundings after a long sleep.

Hudson, whose decidedly classical style is punctuated by comedy, showed off her sense of humor in the first fourth of the work. Her penchant for slapstick appeared as she waved her arm to slap the knee of a dancer next to her, suddenly pointing and engaging her in an accusatory eye contact. The audience chuckled. From there, the tone returned to seriousness as the dancers focused to engage in challenging balances, holding one foot while threading the opposite arm, followed by a tricky extended fourth plié, promenades, and more.

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The end of the first movement was marked in pleasant silence as three dancers fell to the floor, and a chorus rang as dancer Anika Devore began a solo. The choppy choreography kneaded together seamlessly with the song as Devore added an emotional element to the reaching, pausing, and sweeping motions — her strength and clarity complementing Hudson’s technical work.

As Devore fell to the floor as well, Hudson and Ellis stood, switched places, and fell again. This satisfying and repetitive domino effect propelled Ellis and Armstrong into a duet. First, seated, they mirrored and activated each other, swirling gently and then reaching violently to the tune of a folk-style song with heavy Western lyrics. The dramatic moment was made so by the intensity of the dancers’ connections — understated without being lost; heartfelt without becoming melodramatic. The dancers’ tasks were seemingly understood by all participating, and enacted with undeniable form.

“Blue Crystal fire …” rang the music as the dancers visited their counterparts, still lying on the floor. The song ended, and the crossing pattern of pedestrian steps and gestures continued. A new baroque classical song featuring strings began, and the dancers formed a chain-like line, limbs intertwined.

They pas de bourréed, turned, and skidded into another challenging line — testing the dancers’ balance with single leg holds and intricate timing. From there, grounded qualities returned as the dancers formed more tight-knit circles on the ground, charging toward and away from one another on hands and knees before sliding and gliding away. As the dancers walked and slid, they slowly moved toward stage left, disappearing, one by one, as mysteriously as they had appeared.

I had the pleasure of speaking during intermission with dancer Anika Devore, who previously trained with Joffrey Ballet, Milwaukee Ballet, and City Ballet of San Diego, about A Predisposition.

“What I appreciate about this work, in particular, is how the circularity and precision of ballet is infused with the texture and freedom of contemporary movement,” she told me. “It’s mentally challenging, which made it enjoyable to learn and put together.”

After the break, the dim, silhouetting lights came up on a deep baroque chorus for the second piece of the night, Songs About Love and Nature. The same four dancers stood on stage, wearing ruffled shorts and black tops with their hair in crown braids. Facing the audience, they circled around each other quickly, in contrast with the soundscape, stepping silently and creating sharp vignettes.

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The patterns swirled and unswirled, arms creating exceptional curves and slashes above their heads, before shuffling quickly downstage, reaching out as the music crescendoed. Through flicks of the feet and small skips, the lightness that almost always accompanies Hudson’s work is exemplified. There is an inherent femininity in what she does, mimicking the joy of her artistic personality in her work, as well as an evident edge that draws on history, yearning, and rage. 

While it did not feel choreographically similar, something about Songs About Love and Nature brought to mind Alvin Ailey’s iconic Revelations — perhaps the chorus or the timelessness, solidified in front-facing patterns and surety — at times also resembling the dancing of girls around a Maypole, the instruction of a conductor to his chorus, or the regality of an English court with flexed hands and turned-out feet, all chugging as a unit. Another moment harkened to Swan Lake before exploding into dainty comedic bird-like walking.

As a new piano song began, the lights turned red and the dancers took the stance of soldiers, stepping forward and back with slightly bent legs before kicking, punching, and advancing toward the audience. They melted, like collapsible toys, and sprang back to attention again and again, tilting their heads with curiosity, then eyeing the audience playfully. Hudson later played a small air violin in tune with the song, and the dancers knelt. A petite allegro section saw the dancers jumping and turning in pas de chat, waving their wrists madly. They stepped into a final vignette, and the music bumped to black.

Hudson’s work is both overstated in tone and understated in execution, with a mystery that leaves the audience interested. She tells an abstract story that shines through her movement language — in which she continues to excel at dancing, often drawing the eye. In A Presentation, Hudson’s work, which contains difficult cardiovascular elements, appears easy. The clarity with which she moves is amplified by her complete control of her body. As a dancer, her dainty frame, inherent grace, and excellent extension pierced through all her work, making her a joy to watch. Her dancers, also technically gifted, matched her stride throughout.

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Tickets for A Presentation, composed of A Predisposition and Songs About Love and Nature, are available through Hudson’s website. Final performances will take place at BodyVox Dance Center, 1201 NW 17th Ave., at 7:30 p.m. Saturday, Sept. 13, and 4 p.m Sunday, Sept. 14.