EMIO GRECO'S DANCERS MOVE TO SHED LABELS.

Byline: - Vicki Smith Paluch

A Japanese woman wearing a blond bouffant wig, a white silk tunic and stiletto heels walks very, very slowly toward the footlights and declares ``Emio Greco is dead!''

Meanwhile, Emio Greco is still dancing on stage.

It's the unsettling way the contemporary dance company ``Emio Greco/PC'' will introduce itself to Southland audiences on Friday and Saturday when it brings ``Rimasto Orfano'' to UCLA's Royce Hall. In the company's latest dance work, Italian choreographer Greco and Dutch theater director Pieter C. Scholten (the PC in the troupe's name) investigate and question the connections between mind and movement.

``(It's) what happens when you get bored with yourself and want to get rid of yourself,'' says Greco, and it's the type of existential juxtaposition the 39-year-old dancer-choreographer relishes. This relentless, disturbing and yet beautiful piece for seven dancers, including Greco, runs 75 minutes without intermission.

``For us, (that statement) is our answer to those ... who wanted to classify us. It is my declaration that I would be something else.''

In his choreography, Greco takes dance down to the synaptic level, the point of the automatic physical responses of twitches and blinking, and then builds movement to such a fever pitch that it would challenge a classically trained ballerina. Greco's movement style could be the choreographic offspring of young, twitchy Twyla Tharp's brand of aggressive yet lyrical modern dance and William Forsythe's deconstructed ballet with arms that reject rather than envelop. But that is only a part of the visual power of Greco's choreography.

``I am much more interested in processes, looking beyond the surface of a gesture to the impulse behind it. It is much more mysterious,'' says Greco, a classically trained dancer who started his studies when he was 19.

``Rimasto Orfano'' takes place on an empty stage. A single light bulb hanging from the rafters illuminates an area surrounded by gray silk fabric, creating a shiny and rocky appearance. The dancers are dressed in ghostly white silk tunics. It is set to music by New York composer Michael Gordon, who uses the plaintive curl of a lone violin, the wail of distant sirens and the crash of an airplane.

Greco, Scholten and Gordon began work on ``Rimasto Orfano'' in 2001, but before the events of Sept. 11. ``We had already chosen the sounds of sirens and of an airplane crash,'' Greco said. ``(In the creative process) the events of Sept. 11 cross your mind. I carry all of this with me as I process and go beyond the events.''

Greco wants audiences to apply their own narrative to his movement.

In that way, the work could be a post-Sept. 11 tale of struggle and rebuilding. Or it could be a postmodern ``Giselle'' in which Prince Albrecht is not forgiven and dies, having to reconstruct himself in a nether world where the dancers must figure out how their new bodies work. Some start out twitching and flailing. Attempts at classical movement break and yet one female dancer regains her control and whips off more than 50 fouette turns as if she were in ``Swan Lake.''

``The members of the audience want to name the things, but there is no explanation for anything,'' Greco says.

RIMASTO ORFANO

Where: UCLA's Royce Hall.

When: 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday.

Tickets: $2O to $42. Call [phone] or visit uclalive.org.