Mozart never wrote a true waltz, but as part of the Mainly Mozart Festival, four adventurous local dance companies joined the celebration this week by performing “Valses Mexicanos,” a showcase of waltzes branded with their unique signatures.

Ashley Akacich in City Ballet's version

of "Valses Mexicanos" in Tijuana.

Photo: Manuel Rotenberg
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The California Ballet, San Diego Ballet, Malashock Dance and Jean Isaacs San Diego Dance Theatre, an unlikely combination, first shared stages in Tijuana over the weekend, accompanied live by the chamber group Cuarteto Latinoamericano.

They brought a stripped down version of that show, without live musicians, to the basement of Horton Plaza on Tuesday as part of the free weekly series, “Lunchtime at the Lyceum.” From beginning to end, it was an entertaining collision of extremes that cleverly twisted the simple waltz form into something new.

The program opened to the sound of a harpsichord and eight members of The California Ballet. Dressed in rich satin gowns and long-tail tuxedos, four couples gracefully circled the stage in classic three-four time. The men leaped into the air and beat their feet in rapid grande batterie with precision.

In contrast, some in the audience munched on their box lunches and adjusted their Bermuda shorts, as the aristocratic corps weaved through each other on the diagonal and the chivalrous men carried the women high upon their shoulders. Most impressive was Ashley Akacich, who moved comfortably in her billowing gown and flashed a flirtatious grin with rare authenticity that transported the scene to a nobleman's ballroom.

The waltz was not always considered beautiful or even an accepted dance form because it was done in closed position, rather than open or separated. In fact, it was considered so scandalous, it was forbidden in Germany and Switzerland until 1812 because it was considered lewd for men to touch women at the waist. Brave nobleman responded by building private ballrooms, a bit like the Playboy mansion of today.

Chelsy Meiss and Ryan Beck of San

Diego Ballet. Photo: Manual Rotenberg

Young members of San Diego Ballet would have been arrested had they performed their version of the waltz back then. Less formal and technically sound, yet more playful than the preceding group, the company of eight played with the waltz beat and added difficult complex lifts. For some in the group, the lifts were overwhelming. Prompted by music that evoked a bike ride, the men hoisted women over their heads. The women pedaled their feet in the air, a scary and precarious exercise to behold. Standouts however were Ryan Beck and Chelsy Meiss who partnered with softness and ease. Trusting her solid partner, Meiss released her head and extended her arms fully and moreover, interpreted the subtle beats with musicality, the whole point of this program.

Dancers from Malashock Dance Company brought their signature liquid arms and tremendous power to the waltz, as well as bare abs of steel. Led by local favorite Sadie Weinberg, the troupe retained the one down beat and two up beats, but added traveling hops and solid, soaring lifts.

In one section, four men lifted Weinberg over their heads and she arced to the ground with ease, but they lifted her again and tossed her above their heads as if she were a fun toy. If that weren't enough, they swung her airplane style, a glorious image that visually counted out the pendulum time of the music.

While some movement was reminiscent of Malashock's recent show “FATHOM,” in large part because of so many familiar faces, it was fresh. Palm to palm, dancers formed a square and waltzed as a team. Unlike the old waltz, couples threw themselves to partners hip to hip, then stood in lotus position and repeated a gorgeous gesture with their hands, circling their palms over the floor, as if conjuring a spirit.

Sadie Weinberg boldly takes the

waltz to the air along

Photo: Manuel Rotenberg

Jean Isaacs Dance Theater took the waltz from the beautiful to the bawdy in a wacky waltz parody that poked fun at its high society history and stiff gender codes. Dancers John Diaz, Veronica Lamm, Bradley Lundberg, Daniel Marshal, Erica Nordin, Jessica Reed, Alison D. Smith and Sadie Weinberg, blasted onto the stage, but not in gowns or tuxes. Instead they wore variations of stretchy yellow and black. Smith towered over her tiny partner, Lamm, and appeared even taller than she is because of a long skirt with dizzying black and yellow stripes.

At one point, Smith became a giant May pole as the group tugged and twirled her skirt. The men threw themselves at the women, like giant babies clutching thier mothers. The group circled and kicked with flexed feet, then played peek-a-boo under skirts like unruly school kids. The climax was all about clothing as they stretched their shirts and skirts into elongated strips. They entangled their odd partners and flapped the fabric for a finale to great applause.

Veronica Lamm does her twisted waltz

as others in Jean Isaacs San Diego Dance

Theater juggle Sadie Weinberg to a waltz beat.

Photo: Manuel Rotenberg

To the classic "Les Patineurs Valse" (The Skater's Waltz) by Waldtufel, the four companies ended the program by returning for little encores that served as a fun historical review.

They filled the stage for a final bow, and the mixture of costumes and characters was a mind-bending vision of extremes and a reminder that dance is alive and evolves.

Surely those returning to their offices after this lunch hour walked with a littler waltz in their step, and that's a good thing.