2 identities dance onstage

Tartan was on display, shortbread was nibbled, and the sound of bagpipes filled the air at Minneapolis' Orpheum Theater on Saturday night, all in celebration of Scottish Ballet's Minnesota debut presented by Northrop Dance. What happened on stage, however, was anything but traditional.

The program, which paired Jorma Elo's "Kings 2 Ends" with the late Sir Kenneth MacMillan's "Song of the Earth," showed a company with two contemporary artistic identities, one more captivating than the other.

A lengthening of limbs

Elo, who hails from Finland, is resident choreographer for the Boston Ballet. With 2011's "Kings 2 Ends" he displays a flair for lengthening limbs, sometimes to hyperextension. He embellishes his movement for 14 dancers with insect-like head bobs, full-body rhythmic flow, pedestrian steps and quirky hands, as if bent on creating a mad hybrid between pop locking, Bob Fosse-style jazz and ballet. It's a strangely fascinating blend although it all rushed by -- Elo has a need for speed in this work.

Two musical compositions support "Kings 2 Ends." Steve Reich's Pulitzer Prize-winning "Double Sextet" is a minimalist masterpiece, and Elo sets it as contrast to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's more ornate "Violin Concerto No. 1 in B flat K207" in the second half of the work. It's not clear, however, whether this comparison exists purely for its own sake or furthers a point of view.

The same busyness drives the choreography from beginning to end, its mood shifts signaled by lighting changes rather than quality of dancer interactions.

"Song of the Earth" is far less showy, but this adeptly performed 1965 classic demonstrates its timelessness over and over while unfolding with a majestic and measured pace. Set to Gustav Mahler's "Das Lied von der Erde," which incorporates Chinese poetry of the T'ang dynasty translated into German, the work explores fear and acceptance of mortality.
Simple, yet beautiful

A masked Messenger of Death (Christopher Harrison) is a constant presence, but he is not as threatening as might be expected. His touch is light, his guidance true. Sophie Martin and Erik Cavallari proved particularly courageous as lovers challenging the seemingly inalterable course of fate. And MacMillan's choreography is nothing short of revelatory.

The full company sections, in particular, simply yet beautifully reference communal activity -- all the familiar celebrations and losses that make up the cycles of life.