Thrown a Sander

Whomp. Thwack. Thud. To most of us, this may just be the noise of bodies colliding. But it's the music of the spheres to choreographer Mehmet Sander. This gutsy 27-year-old dance guerrilla's coryphees don't just run the gauntlet; they hurdle it. They use ramps, cubes, and other objets de body bruising, too, in the formalistic, hyper-athletic dances that have made this Young Turk L.A.'s new terpsichorean star. Safe saltation it's not. More like the Bataan death mambo. But then, you wouldn't expect the hokey-pokey from a guy with a pierced eyebrow who bills himself as "H.I.V.+ and a Queer . . . from Istanbul." "The core of my dance has always been basic human survivalism," says this prince of pain. "The scariest thing for me is for an audience to be thinking about their laundry. To defeat that, I use physical risktaking."

The Mehmet Sander Dance Co. slams into the boards at the U.C.L.A. Center for the Performing Arts from May 6 to 8. Where else? It is, after all, the hub of the hip, the West Coast's answer to BAM. The Mark Taper Forum may have a higher profile, but U.C.L.A. is the avatar of the avant-garde. Not just for the Brentwood bunch anymore, it's where the blackclad roam to find the likes of Diamanda Galas, Spalding Gray, and Philip Glass. "Traditionally, our programming was based on Western European forms," says center director Michael Blachly. "But we've broadened to reach younger audiences and those that come from different vantages." Wham-bam, thank you, man.

JAN BRESLAUER