After 10 years, opening night of the California State University Summer Arts festival at Fresno State is like an old friend. So much is familiar: the first-day-of-camp excitement in the air as Summer Arts students settle in for their two-week sessions; the amusingly dry and irreverent introduction by head honcho Jim Spalding as he declares to the audience that he has "the best job in the world"; the outrageous minimum bid suggested by Spalding in the inevitable fund-raising auction before the show; the powerhouse performance by a world-class dance ensemble; the impatient waiting by the crowd in the courtyard for the ice-cream social afterward.

Summer Arts, which brings together students from all the California State University campuses, has been in Fresno long enough to make it a cherished part of the community. And at Sunday night's opening performance of the Urban Bush Women, a Brooklyn-based ensemble, once again it was clear that the month-long program was being kicked off in style.

Before I get to the night's performance, a few words about The Bee's Summer Arts coverage in general: My colleague Felicia Matlosz and I wrote a cover story in Sunday's Spotlight section detailing our ten top picks for the festival. We also plan to get to as many public performances and lectures as we can and record our impressions on the Beehive. With so many events, we can't get to all of them, of course, and we're hoping that readers can help us out. (Be sure to check out the program's Web site for up-to-date info on public performances.) I'm creating a special Summer Arts Bulletin Board thread for comments and impressions. All contributions are welcome.

Now back to the Urban Bush Women. Once again, Summer Arts programmers knew what to look for when scheduling the opening-night performance. Of all the arts, dance has the most potential to bond an audience in a sort of primeval, group-hug mentality. Something about watching the movement of the body -- a universal human characteristic -- gets your blood pumping even as a completely sedentary observer. Add to that pounding drums, driving music and the drama of spoken voice, all of which mark the Urban Bush Women experience, and it's no wonder you want to do more than simply tap your feet.

Urban Bush Women, which was founded in 1984 by Jawole Willa Jo Zollar, weaves contemporary dance with the movements and traditions of African Americans and the African Diaspora. In the 2004 piece "Walking With Pearl ... Africa Diaries," the seven dancers performed to the text of Pearl Primus, a celebrated dancer, choreographer and anthropologist. Primus was known for her physical daring as a dancer (she could leap 5 feet in the air) as well as her passion and interest in African culture, and the piece aptly caught such dimensions. With the charismatic Zollar reading Primus' words, the dancers conveyed a pounding sense of energy.

I myself have never been to Africa, but I can say now that I feel as if I've seen an African sunset. At one point in the piece, the dancers -- clad in vivid colors -- clump together, gazing upward at the sky, and it's as if we can actually see that fierce yet gentle sun casting the landscape in gorgeous hues. (Susan Hamburger's lighting design is exquisite.)

In the second piece of the evening, the rousing "Shelter," the company updated this 1988 work with a blistering dose of contemporary social commentary. At turns frantic and contemplative, the title of the piece finds a whole new meaning when connected to Hurricane Katrina. Not once but twice, Zollar declares that "N'Orleans don't raise no chumps, and then adds: "I ain't fled nothing. My country fled me." In this jarring context, the dancers offer intensive movements that range from limb-shaking (they quake and jitter as if bugs are eating them alive) and stiff (they clomp, straight-legged, onto stage in a gait that suggests a goose step) to eerie calm, as if they're in the eye of the storm. In a visual image that I won't soon forget, we're confronted with the dancers on the ground, curled up in fetal positions, and as the percussionist (a fine Bashir Shakur) bangs a cymbal, they jerk as if a voltage jolt is coursing through their bodies. It's as if they've touched a live wire.

It was, in short, an electric performance. And a particularly fine way to kick off Summer Arts.