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\u201cIt\u2019s interesting how people talk about birding,\u201d says Sasha Okshteyn,<\/strong> the artistic director and producer of Beach Sessions Dance Series<\/a>, an annual event along New York\u2019s Rockaway Beach. \u201cYou have to be really patient and follow your intuition in a way, but you\u2019re never sure of what\u2019s going to happen. You don\u2019t know what you\u2019re going to see.\u201d That\u2019s the mindset she hopes the audience brings to this year\u2019s performance on Saturday: magic hour serving as lighting designer, shoreline for the stage. The ninth iteration of the summer program features not one but two innovative artists: the late Merce Cunningham, whose 1991 dance, Beach Birds,<\/em> alights for the first time on sand, and Sarah Michelson,<\/strong> with a response shaped by her experience in the \u201990s, as part of the broader Cunningham community. As with a rare pair of nesting falcons, some onlookers will make a pilgrimage and others will happen upon a magic moment. \u201cI’ve been calling it a \u2018natural occurrence,\u2019 which is something that birders talk about,\u201d Okshteyn says. \u201cIt\u2019s something that you experience and you\u2019re like, \u2018Oh my god, what is this?\u2019\u2014especially for beachgoers. And then it comes and goes. It\u2019s very ephemeral. I think that\u2019s the beauty of it too.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n For Cunningham, a pioneering dancemaker with a decades-long career, collaborating with other artists was familiar territory. John Cage, his longtime companion, frequently composed music for dances\u2014movement operating independently from sound being one of the choreographer\u2019s hallmarks. Robert Rauschenberg, Jasper Johns, and Andy Warhol designed sets. Rei Kawakubo<\/strong> of Comme des Gar\u00e7ons created a famously lumpy set of costumes. For Beach Birds,<\/em> the artist Martha Skinner<\/strong> oversaw the black-and-white leotards and tights: white bodies with a stripe of black that ran across the shoulders and down each arm, delineating wingspan with a single calligraphic stroke. Beach Sessions revives the effect\u2014with a swimwear riff\u2014via custom-printed rash guards, white shorts, and black gloves. \u201cThere were some particular instructions that I remember about not letting your fingers splay apart, but to keep the fingers together so that the hand became an extension,\u201d says former company member Patricia Lent,<\/strong> who staged this weekend\u2019s version with fellow alum Rashaun Mitchell<\/strong> on behalf of the Merce Cunningham Trust. An injury kept Lent out of the original 1991 cast, but she joined two years later for Elliot Caplan<\/strong>\u2019s film version, Beach Birds for Camera<\/em><\/a>, which begins with a closeup of dancers\u2019 torsos: arms outstretched, bodies gently swaying, as if riding a current of air.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cThis is an eccentric project, there\u2019s no doubt about it,\u201d Lent says of bringing Beach Birds<\/em> to the beach. The fact that it has already migrated from stage to screen helps pave the way for this latest iteration, Mitchell adds: \u201cIt\u2019s not bound to the rules of the theater, so we can stretch it and amplify certain aspects.\u201d The setting demands sly adaptations. For one thing, there are no entrances and exits when the Atlantic Ocean is the backdrop\u2014the only wings belong to the errant birds overhead. Footfalls are muffled, taking away a sonic cue helpful for dancers when choreography doesn\u2019t adhere to music. Repeated jumps prove difficult on soft sand; likewise, lifting to the ball of one\u2019s foot in relev\u00e9 fails to register when the ground gives way underneath, so the choreography has shifted in subtle ways. \u201cBut it\u2019s remarkable how much you can do,\u201d Lent says.\u00a0<\/p>\n This year\u2019s performers include a mix of recent graduates and seasoned Beach Sessions alums; Morgan Griffin,<\/strong> who joined as the event\u2019s co-producer this year and first floated<\/a> the idea of a Beach Birds<\/em> revival, is dancing as well. Several of the original 1991 cast members moonlighted in the rehearsal studio, sharing recollections from Merce himself and teaching sections of the choreography. \u201cJust to be able to watch that transmission process is really, really exciting,\u201d says Mitchell, reflecting on a few favorite gestures: \u201cI think about this specific leg-shaking movement that feels kind of like a flutter. I think about these beautiful head movements that are sharp and somehow animalistic.\u201d But the avian world wasn\u2019t the only inspiration for Beach Birds<\/em>. The two trustees staging the work got to pore over Cunningham\u2019s original notes, where he privately named each of the dance\u2019s four sections. The first one is called Chess. \u201cIn the stage piece, when the curtain opens, they’re lined up in roughly two rows across the back, and he’s labeled each of the dancers with a chess piece,\u201d Lent explains, marveling at the work\u2019s underlying layers. \u201cThere\u2019s a lot of stillness, but when they move, they move in roughly the same way that the chess piece would.\u201d<\/p>\n