When you enter the cavernous warehouse performance space currently housing "Sanctuary" the extremely sexy new piece by out choreographer Brian Sanders’ JUNK, the ushers dutifully warn "If you sit in the first two rows you’ll get wet.  Very wet."  This writer is too much of a gentleman and the piece is far too good to stoop to doubling that entendre.  Resisting, however, will be hard.  Er, difficult.

Through 45 minutes of stunning acrobatic feats and sensual dancing, Sanders has created yet another show that titillates the mind and the body.  The celebrated local choreographer and his nine featured dancers make use of found objects like cement blocks, lengths of chain and metal spikes with an ingenuity that is nothing short of breath-taking.  Indeed, the experience as a whole contains so many gasp-inducing moments of physical and artistic daring that the splash that comes at the end may as well have been included simply to shock the audience into breathing again.  But more on that in a moment.

"Sanctuary" is one of the centerpieces of this year’s Philadelphia Live Arts Festival and once again proves that Philadelphia is not wanting for exceptional creative performance.  As the title may suggest, the production takes place at a monastery of sorts, tracking the sexual and personal liberation of a group of monks set to the sound of 80s pop and New Wave artists like Yaz, the Eurhythmics, and Wham!.  Over the course of the piece, the 10 monks go from isolated, solemn figured shrouded in heavy robes to blue jean-clad experimenters dashing in and out of confessionals in pairs and threes then finally to a writhing, joyful mass of near-naked bodies.  As one watches the monks undress, pair up and push the limits of what their bodies can do, one starts to see another interpretation of the title.  The idea of sanctuary transforms from a place of isolated religious practice or devotion to the sensual and soulful comfort of another person, another body.  It’s stunning to watch.

"Sanctuary" is greatly aided by extremely clever sets by Alex Gartelmann and Terry Smith’s smart lighting design that often achieves the character of a performer and the weight of a set piece.  The true focus, however, perpetually returns to the astounding dancers.  Though set in a warehouse, the production achieves a level of intimacy and immediacy that allows the spectator to read the expressions on each performer’s face—ecstasy, fear, longing—and feel the tension of impending physical harm during some of their more daring stunts.  Fire is swung from links of chain; dancers twirl upside-down and sideways from hanging metal pipes; on multiple occasions bodies go flying through the air, flailing, grasping, reaching.  There is no net.  This level of impossible physical skill has become a trademark of JUNK and all of Sanders’ choreography, but it is never anything short of spellbinding.

The ushers, then, are correct to warn each audience member as they enter the dark, open space.  You will get wet at "Sanctuary"—you’ll perspire with anticipation and tension, you’ll be splashed as the troupe jumps into the lengthy pool that separates the audience from the performance space and writhes and flips, limb over limb, with wild abandon; and, yes, you’ll probably get a little excited—10 supremely fit, attractive, near naked dancers tend to have that effect.  This is a smart, sexy, creative, complex show and it’s not to be missed. 

"Sanctuary" runs through September 18 at Theater East at the Hub, 626 N. 5th Street.  Tickets are $25-$30.