Appreciation for the arts should be a given. Still, we live in a world of uninspired internet quizzes (what kind of cheese are you?), and wealthy, bored women fighting on TV as entertainment. I was excited to see Ballet BC’s final production of the 2013/2014 season, UN/A, but was also nervous that, as someone who is not a frequent ballet attendee, I might not “get it.”

Broken into three acts, UN/A premiered the original, distinct sequences of three individual choreographers:

Twenty Eight Thousand Waves, Cayetano Soto’s first work for Ballet BC, began with an ethereal, vocal harmony. The figureless dancers began to move in slow, almost stop-motion movements. With the men in muted grey and the women in nude, non-repetitive motions and fluid transitions slowly give way to a frantic burst. As the music becomes frenzied, the dancers move like molecules, kinetic with heat. The final seconds display more energy than all the time preceding. And then, as the music stills, the breathless dancers produce no sound other than the smudge of their shoes as they spin furiously and then come to a full stop.

The second act, Lost and Seek by Spanish-born Gustavo Ramirez Sansano, began with melodic piano and cool on-stage lighting. The dancers—androgynous and childlike—make long, willowy movements that are both deliberate and gravity-defying. The scene is playful, showing what appears to be children wrestling, laughing, and even chasing a giant wave—a perfect moment before inevitable change.

And finally the third act, immix by Montreal choreographer Giconda Barbuto, begins. Opening with nothing but a thin stream of light that gleams across the audience, the intense music is the sole cue for tone. The dancers emerge to deliver forceful actions while stark lighting intensifies the twisting and running. It’s like watching the inside of a clock and the dancers are the cogs from within; their bodies serve as catalyst to each others’ movements, each limb acting as a lever propelling forth a powerful exchange.

By the conclusion, I find it almost unimaginable that we could give our time to such banality as reality TV. Instead, UN/A is a transfixing performance that demands focus while allowing the mind to wander to places great and vast. From fluid weightlessness, to uncomplicated delight, to industrial deliberation, UN/A delivers three diverse pieces that fit together effortlessly and make time race.