Despite the fact that he runs his own theater, I still associate Bill T. Jones with the opulent grandeur of Lincoln Center, City Center, BAM, etc. 

While his choreography can obviously fill those palaces, Jones’ aforementioned home at New York Lives Arts provides an opportunity to be literal inches away from his dancing bodies. 

If you sit front row. 

While aficionados seem to prefer more distance between their seats and the stage — probably for a vantage point that fits the entire ensemble in their line of sight, swivel-free — the first row accentuates the individual corporeality. 

Being within arm’s reach of a legend’s work reveals the kinetic intensity of his movers: aggressively throwing themselves on the ground with a pronounced thud, slapping skin so hard that they leave behind red imprints, more sweat than looks humanly possible, and you can literally feel the physical weight of their endurance on the boards thumping underneath your feet.