Dance heals. Come and watch Here we live and now.

In turbulent times, an evening of dance works therapeutically. Especially when three former Nederlands Dans Theater (NDT) dancers show new work in Here we live and now. Only, anyone expecting a sharp look at current affairs by the programme title will be disappointed. Here we live and now refers mainly to choreographers living or working in The Hague and shows a snapshot of their development.

That doesn't matter: the dance night transcends the pressure of current events. And that is just as well.

Petrichor

Never thought there was a name for it. Petrichor. The smell created when rain falls on dry ground. Try to explain it to someone when you smell it and they look at you in amazement. Célia Amada, too, was amazed by the phenomenon from childhood, researched it and turned it into a dance piece. In it, three dancers swirl across the floor in warm colours to fascinating electronic music by Argentine Ezequiel Menalled. Whereas the composer meticulously experiments with all kinds of sounds from behind his laptop on stage, the experimental dissection of dance movements is a lot less visible. That will come.

Dissonance

Because Dissonance by Menghan Lou begins immediately with unexpected movements cleverly plotted along the yardstick. While the neat pleated skirt and blouse with buttoned collar expresses 40s suffocation, the dance breaks through the inner confusion. Kalin Morrow and Violet Broersma perform it perfectly. Sometimes their wigs make them look like Maddie Ziegler and Allison Holker in the duet on Chandelier by Sia. And also influences from the alien, Brussels-based Peeping Tom see you back, supported by a composition by Thijs Scheele. Choreographer Menghan Lou has an extensive arsenal of moves up his sleeve and could go straight to the big stage.

Rhizoma

And then Rhizoma ('carrot stick') by Astrid Boons. It has been a while since I Long of Kat Válastur saw and it still stands with me. Also in Rhizoma your senses are probed by two dancers who first appear to be androgynous beings. Compliments to lighting designer Albert Tulling. Rhizoma pulls you into a vacuum: there is no more turbulent world, is there still a world?

Limbs seem to be swept away under dancer Astrid Boons and Maria Chiara Mezzadri and after a series of mercilessly clapping knee movements, they finally get up. It is actually inclusion dance and of a mesmerising kind. To echoing tones of swirling singing bowls by Chilean composer Miguelangel Clerc Parada, a gigantic slowdown sets in. Here, Boons masters the absolute power of doing nothing. Until the two dancers, intertwined and connected with each other, abandon everything.

Like hearing a pin float from the ground back to where it came from, the audience is so enthralled in the endless performance at this try-out.

Here we live and wow.