The Spaniard Marcos Morau is a rare phenomenon: a choreographer raised outside dance who does not repeat its history or ignore its special powers. In his works, the dancers—and when he choreographs for large companies, he seems to use all of them—move like CGI simulacra of themselves, angling their every joint so severely that you imagine cracking and popping in Dolby surround sound. And yet the dancers bare nary an inch of skin. Buried in layers of costume, they seem to have emerged out of a Baroque painting. They move as in a dream—that is, according to a drama whose contours you almost recognize. “Today, the boundaries separating different types of art are very fragile and fluid,” the 41-year-old Morau recently explained. “I am convinced that we must break them to bring them closer together.” This month his work is everywhere, with world premieres for Staatsballett Berlin and the Nederlands Dans Theater, and a repertory piece for his Barcelona company, La Veronal, touring to Paris. —Apollinaire Scherr