Build it and they will come.

That's the artistic philosophy of The Pillow Project's Pearlann Porter, who is nurturing her mostly dance group (liberally sprinkled with multimedia) amid the recyclable toilets and window dressings of Construction Junction, its "fiscal" partner.

"They" is an umbrella term for this warmly inclusive artist. It could mean the hearty mix of audiences -- young, old, family, Goth -- that now comfortably assemble in the intimate furniture groupings (for 50 or so viewers) at the expansive Space Upstairs. "Actually I think a lot of the stuff comes from my living room," Porter says in her rapid-fire delivery. "Except it's like my living room if it were expanded to 4,000 square feet."

But The Pillow Project is also providing a networking opportunity for a wide span of artists, mostly young and sometimes untested. But so was Porter when she began collecting young artists around her to found the The Pillow Project in 2004.

Actually she says that her "By Volume" series last year, where the audience could come and go as it pleased between 7 p.m. and midnight, was the catalyst for the company.

"I've been used to regular performances my whole life, where the audiences sit down at the start and leave when it's done," Porter muses. "I didn't know how to do an ongoing, gallery-style show, where the audience could wander around in a casual setting."

Word of mouth made it an unqualified success. By 7:15 most of the audience was in place, just ready to hang out with the performers, even get up and dance with them. Some stayed all night, others only 15 minutes. A few wandered in from the Point Breeze neighborhood almost by accident, drawn in by the music. Mostly it was a mix-and-match audience, where a photography enthusiast attended a first dance performance and a dance fan was exposed to graphic art.

That has driven Porter to renovate the entrance for more seating, whimsically adding, "now the Space Upstairs is going to have a Space Downstairs."

The Pillow Project's Second Saturday series has also become a hub for local artists, where the veteran Mary Miller Dance Company will rub noses at the final performance this weekend with relative newcomer and percussionist PJ Roduta.

The series began in May with a mixed bag and gravitated to improvisation, followed by the environmentally friendly "Reuse, Recycle, Remix" and a two-dimensional evening with performers behind screens and on video. To Porter, it has all been a big lab experiment that "permits me to do something really crazy."

This time it means that Saturday night's finale will be conducted in silence: "iPods requested, but not required." Even the dancers will wear them, each moving to his or her selected tune." At a rehearsal, Porter put hers on "shuffle," surprised by how it altered the movement.

Miller will take a different twist, using music with the movement inspired by sign language. Of course, audience members have the option of tuning out via their iPods.

Porter is gradually cutting the extras, moving toward no music, no programs, no right or wrong, no boundaries, no explanation so that the audience "gets it."

A part of "Silent Saturday" will serve as a teaser for her next event, "Twenty Eighty-Four," currently in full production and opening Oct. 9. Based on Orwell's landmark novel, "1984," Porter calls it "non-fiction choreography" where an "interactive video element is a prop that will provide the driving that compels the dance to happen."

There won't be an ending here either, particularly in Porter's constant enthusiasm for art. "I'm kind of driving myself a little mad," she says. "It's almost an obsession bordering on dysfunction."

It sounds like a topic for her next series.