People take a chance on Atalee Judy, a self-proclaimed bad kid whose choreography recalls the tumultuous social climate from which art emerges. Judy's dance - Logotype 02, on of a series of confrontational pieces - proved to be riveting. In the solo Logotype 00 Judy associated guns with movement derived from "fall and recovery" techniques she'd learned in the mosh pits of New York City; the duet Logotype 01 featured a video image of a bald head with the top cut away to reveal nothing but static. Logotype 02 - the first group piece in her series - uses the image of a barcode being scanned to show the way individuality gets lost in the drive to identify consumers by their purchases. Underneath identical striped work suits, her dancers have barcodes tattooed on their backs, as if the scanning process were analogous to the labeling of Jews in Nazi concentration camps - an association confirmed by projections of bombed buildings and gaunt prisoners. With two notable exceptions, the movement is unrelentingly violent, drawn from Judy's immersion as a teenager in the punk rock scene, skateboarding, and the martial arts. When coupled with the deafening acoustic environment put together by Claypeople and Esch Marie (Judy), the choreography gives a visceral reality to the impact of electronic surveillance on our lives.

But oddly the piece begins and ends with what looks like butoh dance. We first see [a performer] covered in white clay, hunched over, her fingers barely moving in front of her face. Video close-ups from different angles reveal volcanic cracks in her "skin," as if she were burning inside. This style reappears at the end, when the sole male dancer, Juan Estrada, assumes the same position, looking rather hopelessly toward the dim lights above: this may be a rebel who's refused to be scanned or a futuristic being simply shedding his skin. But the silent, almost immobile sections seem to comment on the ruthless dancing they frame, ensuring that Judy's critique of massive cultural surveillance will not get confused with the aggression by which she reveals it.

And the dancing can be violent, almost suggesting a flirtation with the totalitarian strategies Judy seeks to expose. After the initial butoh section, a group of menacing figures - wearing gas masks - line up in military formation while a male nonconformist writhes downstage with a bandage covering his eyes. Projected in back is a thin red beam of light scanning a barcode, accompanied by the shuttling noise of an automatic lock closing again and again. Suddenly, with no perceivable preparation, two of the women fling themselves high into the air, legs kicking out to one side as if blown away. You see their disheveled hair in silhouette as it flies in the opposite direction, layered momentarily over the projection of a couple, wearing gas masks, holding a baby. The two women land bolt upright, still facing the audience, as two more dancers are thrown up like clumps of dirt. A somewhat confusing struggle between individual and group ensues, in which the women antagonists turn out to be victims themselves; the choreographer's intention may not be completely clear, but the movement is sharply defined and rigorously executed. With Logotype 02 Judy transforms the company.