Merriam Webster defines catenary as “the curve assumed by a cord of uniform density and cross section that is perfectly flexible but not capable of being stretched and that hangs freely from two fixed points” like a velvet rope that swings from two brass stanchions.
 
Based on a work on Saturday night at PS21 Center for Contemporary Performance, a world premiere collaboration between violinist/composer Hannah Epperson and dancer/choreographer Rebecca Margolick, there is also an invisible catenary – one that links humanity. It is no barrier to an entry. Rather if we so chose or pay attention, the catenary, if followed, can lead us to act as stanchions to ease the burden of each other.

The two, along with electronic performer Niloufar Nourbakhsh, evoke that sense in a rattling and poignant exploration of a relationship. The piece starts before the audience is even seated. As people jockey for seats, Epperson and Margolick are standing centerstage, slowly walking in half-circles, with a long cord tied to each of their waists, like an umbilical cord. Inch by inch, they travel a hair farther from each other until their cord pulls nearly taut between them.
 
As they are doing this – one can only hear a heartbeat and an occasion whirl, something like one might hear in a vintage sci-fi film. Could it be the miracle of human development?
 
As Epperson retreats to a corner with her violin, Margolick becomes the focus. She appears a target – arms outstretched toward a glaring light – and then she caves onto herself and flings her body backwards. It happens again and again as if she is the victim of some violence. Then in a convulsive solo, she twists her hand alongside her head – as if realizing something – and then – still bent over – cradles something invisible in her arms. When she finally stops, her fists are clenched.
 
Epperson puts down her violin to come to her aid – placing her body between Margolick and the hammering light. That is her role throughout, helping Margolick to endure her pain. At one point, Epperson rebraids her wild hair after another exhausting, painful incident that could be read as childbirth.
 
Nourbakhsh also took part, stepping out from the audience to walk across the stage in profile. She was holding what appeared to be a baby paunch with one hand as she seemed to navigate an unseen tightrope. The pressure of perfection – as a woman and as a mother – looms heavy.
 
“Catenary” emphasizes the stress women are weighted down with. Their bodies are expected to please, nourish and soothe. But this burden is further strained by the assault on their rights to their bodies.
 
Epperson, Margolick and Nourbakhsh demonstrated we are one, even in divided times; and insist we show compassion. Without it, the link or catenary that connects us will be disastrously severed.

​The 60-minute dance will be repeated at 3 and 6 p.m. today.

Grand Kyiv Ballet performed the icon classic "Swan Lake" on Saturday night at the Palace Theatre in Albany

 Art can change the world.
 
Art brings people together. Art shares and enlightens with its ideas. And in the case of the Grand Kyiv Ballet, art also serves to remind us that an unjust war continues to rage in the homeland, Ukraine, of these talented dancers.
 
The small ensemble returned to the area on Saturday night for the third time in less than a year – this time at the Palace Theatre with their rendering of the classic of classics, “Swan Lake.” Their stripped-down version of this often elaborately dressed ballet – as well as others — is a tell that they don’t have resources. But the company’s efforts also signal that one must carry on, regardless, to try to rebuild.
 
Certainly, this ensemble is one of Europe and America’s most hardworking. They are seemingly everywhere, all the time, performing their repertoire of story ballets. After seeing last year’s “The Nutcracker” and “Snow Queen,” and being disappointed, I was encouraged by the Kyiv ensemble’s “Swan Lake.”
 
This Tchaikovsky ballet in four acts is the world’s most popular. It centers on a Prince Siegfried who is coming of age and must find a bride. And as he wanders into the forest, he meets and falls in love with  Odette. But sadly, she is under the spell of the evil Von Rothbart who, by day, cruelly keeps her and her retinue as swans. She promises to come to the palace that evening, as a princess, to secure their forever love at the court -- a move that would break Von Rothbart's hold.
 
But Von Rothbart, recognizing their devotion, hatches his own plot. He sends his daughter, Odile, to the court. concealed as Odette. She dazzles, tricking Siegfried into promising his love to her. When he realizes his error, he races from the court to reunite with Odette at the lake. And in Eastern European fashion, their love vanquishes Von Rothbart so the two can live happily ever after. (In the original and most American versions, the two cast themselves into the lake and die.)
 
Victor Tomashek danced Siegfried opposite Ekaterina Malkovich in the dual role of Odette/Odile. Both physically strong, the dancers poured out an honest dose of emotion to carry the audience to buy into their flawed love. Malkovich was gorgeous – ideally sweet and fragile as Odette and daring and dismissive of Siegfried as Odile.
 
Other standouts included Khan-Ochir Tumursukh as the jester. Though he appeared tired at his first tour en air, he quickly recovered to invigorating, carrying all the court scenes – particularly the first, which can seem overdone and dull.
 
Sultan Abdyzhaparov as the cape-flicking Von Rothbart, who cast a malicious look, cut a dashing figure.

One thing that is awkward, however, is the Ukrainian dancers often stop the ballet d'action to garner applause. It's an old-fashioned practice that doesn't work well on American stages where audiences are not used to the custom. On Friday, when the music stopped and dancers walked to the edge of the stage, they were often met with stone silence.
 
Still, the production was a success, despite too many bows and having no sets pieces other than one chair. But the backdrops, particularly the lake view, glowed, providing just the right atmosphere for this haunting ballet.
 
Finally, I must tip my hat to Tchaikovsky. His music for “Swan Lake” has made it the “Romeo and Juliet” of ballet. His escalating theme is not only memorable, but elevates the ballet as the legend it has become.