In "Motherless Child," eight dancers appeared in front of a photo of Sub-Saharan AIDS orphans to open Jean Isaacs' "35th Anniversary Retrospective Concert" last weekend at the Don Powell Theater. They trudged along the diagonal as if stepping in deep sand. They left one woman alone in the far corner. But they gradually regrouped. To a swell of emotional music, they gently flicked their fingers, shot up into the air, and rescued one man, hugging and stroking him as the light faded. It represented Isaacs' warmth and deep social conscience, and her ability to balance hope and pain, theater and abstraction.

The dance "Motherless Child," from Isaacs' work "Song of Nyumbani," was inspired by photos by Dr. Art

Myers, seen in the right corner. Photo: Manuel Rotenberg

Two duets from "Phantom Limbs" (2000) brought the horror and painful memories of AIDS closer to home. Bradley Lundberg stepped off the back of a tipping chair into the arms of Sadie Weinberg. He looked ill. She cupped his head in her hands. But Isaacs added a final spin to signify their joyful, yet temporary time together.

Actor James Winker spoke about dear friends lost to AIDS (text by Winker), and the excellent dancer Alison D. Smith embodied his sorrow and rage by climbing into his lap and collapsing on the floor. Still, we took a hopeful breath as Winker spoke of rediscovering joy in a painting or a song.

"Motherless" and "Phantom Limbs" revealed a serious side of Isaacs that surprised a few viewers. I overheard a woman quip, "I didn't like those preachy dances." They obviously struck a nerve. Perhaps she expected a full evening of upbeat works like those seen in Isaacs' recent productions of Trolley Dances and Cabaret Dances. But art reflects life, and the 10 dances in this retrospective helped us appreciate the full range of Isaacs' work, how it has changed, and its historical significance.

The dances were gleaned from Isaacs' last 35 years of work and three companies (3's Company with Betzi Roe and Patrick Nollet; Isaacs McCaleb & Dancers with Nancy McCaleb; and San Diego Dance Theater, which she's directed since 1997). Along with her company, several former members and students also performed.

"Red Dress" (1990) represented Isaacs' fighting spirit and love of cabaret culture. It was danced beautifully by Monica Bill Barnes, a former student and guest artist from New York. From the moment she turned her head, Barnes' sharp focus had us hooked. She popped in and out of a corner of light, and her shadow conjured images of an old stage show, or a boxing ring. We saw a tenacious woman who could take it on the chin. She rose up on half-toe and stretched into solid arabesques, which said she wasn't afraid to take chances.

"Tabula Rasa," an ensemble work named for Arvo Part's eerie score, was also accented by lighting. Bathed in shadow, dancers appeared in sweaty garb and pulsated until a brighter light beckoned them to look upward. When it debuted in 1986, it featured five women, but much has changed in 23 years. For the retrospective, Isaacs cast three men and three women who sought fulfillment as equals. They moved as a cohesive group without dominant partnering. As in many of her dances, Isaacs used the power of diagonal lines; dancers moved farther away and came back at you more forcefully in leaps and slides to create tension and a sense of distance.

Formerly known as "New-Age Ceremonial Stomp" (1981), "Stomp for the Millennium" (1998), was pure rhythm. Performed without music, a team of seven dancers whipped off complex snaps, claps, and heel rolls. To make it more exciting, they changed directions, split into groups, lined up in single file and split off in tight unison. At one point, they slapped their thighs to produce a mechanical rhythm. They pretended to puff cigarettes and incorporated coughs and short phrases about "quitting" into the mix. That made them loveable humans instead of androids.

Dancers Daniel Marshall (top) and Bradley Lundberg hold on in "Holding On/Letting Go," a work by Isaacs from 2001. Photo: Manuel Rotenberg

Set to techno pop from the 90s, the trio "Skin" was not as interesting. But its exotic undulations flowed into the quivering duet, "Siamese Twins" with Lauren Slater and Erica Nordin Ruse, who chugged on their butts and conjoined limbs to become one body in motion. They moved with easy confidence. In spite of their limitations, they were comfortable with their bodies.

The first section of the duet "Holding On/Letting Go," with Lundberg and Daniel Marshall, was based on beautifully sculpted male bodies. At times, it felt like an experiment. Their slow seesaw lifts and poses were punctuated by music driven bursts, but they were not sentimental. Their movement was confined to a small area, yet their expressions remained detached. The solo by Weinberg that followed was more compelling. She stretched into deep plies and plunged her arms inward before extending her legs with flexed feet. The effect was exhausting; she struggled to forget and move forward, but went nowhere.

In sharp contrast, two comic duets, set to music by Frank Sinatra and Bizet, were flat-out hilarious. Isaacs has created more than 100 dances for the concert stage, and she's choreographed for opera and theater. She is loved for her work that tickles the funny bone. The set for "CarMen and the Women Who Love Them," by Michael Arata, was corny. So were the sexual innuendos. As Julio Catano rubbed and buffed his precious cardboard car, McPherson responded by rolling on the floor in seductive wiggles. The two headlights were a metaphor for her, well, you know, but it was a clever giggle.

The excerpt from "Her It Age" (2007) was more refined and theatrical. In it, Jeannie Baldini-Isaacs poked fun at her own heritage. The crowd howled as a recording of Isaacs listed stereotypes of Italians - their connections with organized crime, getting fat, and being hairy - and the laughter grew during the lively dance portion. Liv Isaacs-Nicolet and Lundberg glared, spanked and twirled to Sinatra's "Lazy Mary." Even if you've never been married, their irritated and sleepy expressions rang a bell.

Whether you like or dislike Isaacs' work, prefer her light or deep dark side, she is an icon in the San Diego dance community. After the show on Sunday, she peered into the audience and invited former dancers and students to the stage. Dozens of men and women rose from their seats to join her and the cast on stage. It was a visual testament to her role as a dance educator and prolific dance artist, one who has inspired a generation.

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Jean Isaacs San Diego Dance Theater hosts Muestra Choreographica Binancional/Binational Choreographic Showcase featuring Mexican and American dance companies and workshops on May 23-25, 2009, at Dance Place San Diego, NTC Promenade.