Editor's note:

Last month, choreographer Wally Cardona and composer Phil Kline came to Helena to put together their latest collaboration, a dance piece called SITE. The new work was co-comissioned by the Myrna Loy Center in Helena and Dance Theater Workshop in New York City. The music for the piece was performed by 50 recorded and 15 live musicians from the Capital High School band. The 15 live musicians traveled to New York City to premiere the piece at Dance Theater Workshop on May 29. This three-part series follows their journey.

A week after the work-in-progress performance in Helena, choreographer Wally Cardona and company are dancing in a theater not unlike the Myrna Loy Center, in the Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan, in New York City. It's a Saturday, a hot holiday weekend, and the city is full of vacationers.

Cardona is nursing a cold -- lovingly bestowed upon him by his 10-month-old daughter, Beatrice. The company seems a little weary. Or maybe it's just Fred Collins' mournful trumpet blaring over the loudspeaker, setting the mood.

Ready or not, in just two days, the dancers and Capital High School musicians will premiere their labor of love in front of a New York City audience.

May 27, 2007

After getting in late Saturday night, the students are tired but excited when they step off the bus in front of Dance Theatre Workshop the next morning. Their hotel is in New Jersey, so this is their very first moment in the city.

A little early for rehearsal, they walk around the block to see the famous Bohemian hangout, Hotel Chelsea, where artists like William S. Burroughs to Bob Dylan once took up residence. The students are quieter than usual, eyes and mouths agape.

When asked what she thinks, Angela Albrecht can only reply: "Big," her voice cracking slightly.

Back at the theater, composer Phil Kline and the students greet each other warmly and start setting up for rehearsal. He inquires about whether the vibes and bass drum have arrived -- they're the largest instruments and had to be shipped.

"I hope so," says Brianna Kienitz.

"Oh dear," says Kline.

Turns out, they haven't. Phone calls are made and, 15 minutes later, replacement instruments are on their way from a nearby shop. It's 10 a.m. on a Sunday, and Memorial Day weekend to boot. Capital High School band director Angela Keedy jokes that it would have taken longer to order a pizza.

Crisis averted, the students get on with rehearsal. Kline is conducting with a chopstick. He and the students laugh and joke and have an easy rapport.

Cardona comes down to the theater. He says "welcome" and "we missed you."

"It was a quiet week," he says.

Just like at the Myrna Loy Center, Cardona has the musicians playing several times from remote spots in the theater; he needs to figure out where to place the band in the new space.

As they play in the glass-enclosed lobby at Dance Theatre Workshop -- and later on the sidewalk -- curious passers-by pause to watch. The students watch them back; it's an amusing sight.

For a late lunch, the group hits the funky Empire Diner a few blocks away. The house pianist starts playing a lyrical version of a Green Day song and Tom Smith goes nuts. He requests everything he can think of, from Metallica to the Beatles. He tips the guy all the cash left in his wallet.

Then it's off to the catch the subway, another first for most of the students. They take the red line up to Columbus Circle on 59th Street, where the buildings are taller and shinier.

The students ooh and ahh; they crane their necks upward, jaws open.

"Memorial Park has nothing on this," Hannah jokes.

May 28, 2007

The next morning, Brianna plays the vibes while Cardona and Kline set sound levels. The sound is ethereal, calming -- like one of those nature sounds tapes, but not so cheesy.

The kids are all half asleep. The previous night, they went to see the musical "STOMP" down on Astor Street, a risque avenue that apparently was just as impressive as the show.

"That whole street made me blush," Grayson Quigley remarked to Keedy afterward.

The cue-to-cue rehearsal is long. Backstage, the students listen to iPods, send text messages and play rock, paper, scissors silently across the divide.

Onstage, the dancers are loose, but controlled; focused, but not forced. They dance right on the edge of being out of control. Brianna plays Kline's solemn "Dirge" softly on the piano. Periodically, the subway rumbles underneath.

For lunch, some of the kids go to Better Burger, a hip organic place that provides little forks for its french fries and sells vegan brownies for dessert. It's right down the street from Dance Theatre Workshop, and the musicians decide they'll be going there every single day.

It's the students' second day in the city. As incredible as the scenery is, they all agree that the diversity of the people is much more astounding.

Boxes of New York-style pizzas arrive at dinnertime. Everyone -- dancers, musicians, crew -- seems to be enjoying one another's company. Even some of the little cliques among the students are breaking down. People are joking and having fun.

Outside, the streets of New York City are bustling with summery people. The air is warm and the sun is going down. Everyone is in good spirits.

Keedy allows a group of students to explore the neighborhood during the break. She tells them to stay together and be back by 10 to 6.

"And make sure you hold hands the entire time," she calls after them.

Back inside, one of the dancers, Joanna, says she's feeling good about where things are headed. It feels like the puzzle pieces are like this, she says, touching her fingertips together so they slightly intertwine.

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Even if you've seen it on TV a million times, nothing compares to Times Square in person. Whatever you can imagine, it's bigger and brighter than that.

After rehearsal on Monday, with an hour to kill before the bus arrives, the students hop the subway for a chance to see the landmark at night.

As expected, Times Square is a sight to behold -- seeing the students see Times Square is, too.

Their faces light up with amazement; they can't contain their awe. Brianna and Hannah look like somebody just played a joke on them. Tom, not surprisingly, starts jumping up and down.

"So this is where all the electricity goes," cracks Sarah.

In the ESPN Sports Zone building, the kids run up the winding staircase to the game room on the fifth floor. They marvel over the TVs in the bathrooms -- that is, until Grayson points out they're marveling over TVs.

"Because we don't have TVs in Montana," he notes.

"And we ride horses to school," someone adds.

"And we don't have electricity or running water."

"Basically, we're all just miners and pioneers."

Outside, the lights glitter.

May 29, 2007

On Tuesday, the theater is abuzz with opening-night activity. People from the New York Public library are there all day to videotape the performance and the students. The kids enjoy cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery after a morning on Canal Street, where they make one T-shirt vendor extremely happy.

After the final dress rehearsal, in a restaurant around the corner from the theater, Cardona orders a Caesar salad and attempts to eat something prior to the evening premiere.

He says he's nervous, but not in the same way he usually is before an opening. Something is different about this piece, he says; somewhere along the line, it took on a life of its own.

Cardona says that part way through the process he had a minor freakout when he began to feel like he wasn't where he should be with the choreography. But in a way, nothing could have been more perfect.

Everything he talks about points to the idea that each component of the creative process, from the boards to the two different venues to the things that happened -- and the things that didn't -- was essential.

You take those things, and you do what you have to do, he says. Maybe the piece would exist without them, but it wouldn't be the same.

That certainly applies to the musicians, who have clearly endeared themselves to both Cardona and Kline.

"There is something about having them around," says Cardona, who adds he's dying to know what the students think.

If he asked, he might be underwhelmed by their answers.

"It's cool," they'll say. Or, "it's interesting."

"Modern dance meets Home Depot," is how Angela Conley describes Cardona's choreography.

One of them doesn't like the dancing one bit. The same goes if you ask about the city, or the fact that they're part of a premiere of a new work by two innovative, respected artists.

They're more excited about Better Burger and rolling around in the crumpled paper backstage.

With all due respect, they sound like teenagers.

Back at Dance Theatre Workshop, an audience of supporters and members of the New York dance community gather for the premiere.

"The creme de la creme are here tonight," notes one audience member.

Downstairs, the students sit in the dark dressing room by the glow of their cell phones, just hanging out. All of a sudden, it's 7:30 and the crowd excitedly shuffles into the theater.

The performance begins almost imperceptibly; it takes the audience a few minutes to realize something is going on. It takes a moment for it to hit, too, that the whole thing is really happening.

The overture begins with Brianna's delicate glockenspiel, followed by Tom's booming drum, Conley on the French horn, then Keedy on the trombone.

Kline's beautiful, intimate score is nothing like the over-the-top marching music he and Cardona first envisioned.

"Flutter," the song Kline handed to his musicians on the very first day, is now a haunting, ambient tune. The sounds and songs work hand in hand with Cardona and company.

Onstage, the dancers construct a house with the boards and then tear it down, start over. They build and destroy; build and destroy, and then they dance among the ruins.

The show is well received and the crowd cheers wildly when the band takes the stage. The musicians beam.

In the lobby, friends and significant others are bearing flowers. The dancers have that relieved look on their faces. Cardona laughs a little louder than usual.

One woman gestures carefully as she speaks to him about the performance. Another audience member, a dancer, describes the piece as meditative and hopeful.

"In the construction and deconstruction, I saw a lot of life's journey," she says.

Afterward, dancers and crew gather at a nearby open-air restaurant, the Viceroy, to celebrate.

Up on 42nd Street and elsewhere around the city, audiences flooded into the night from plays and readings, concerts and cabaret shows.

Maybe some of the theatergoers connected with what they saw and retired to the nearest cafe to discuss the work with their friends. Maybe they were just moved and couldn't quite articulate why. Or maybe they felt like they hadn't been changed at all.

Back in Chelsea, the kids went for ice cream.

Click here for company & member bios, photo gallery, and reviews.

The Band

The band

- Angela Keedy,

band director, trombone

- Angela Albrecht, flute

- Hannah Berglund, trumpet

- Sami Berglund, alto sax

- Adam Colvin, alto sax

- Angela Conley, French horn and piano

- Sarah Dramstad, alto and soprano sax

- Taylor Goodheart, alto sax

- Brianna Kienitz, percussion (vibes, glockenspiel), piano

- Liz Knatterud, flute

- Mike Nathe, clarinet

- Aaron Paulsen, trumpet

- Jamison Powell, bassoon

- Grayson Quigley, baritone sax

- Tom Smith, drums

- Sadie Viergutz, clarinet