The first time the Merce Cunningham Dance Company came to the fledgling Pittsburgh Dance Council series at Heinz Hall in 1970, people walked out in droves.

Having been a music major at Duquesne University, I wasn't as shocked by John Cage's quirky music score. But when the dance and the music happened to climax by "chance" (one of Cunningham's favorite choreographic devices), I took great pleasure in it.

Chance. Cunningham used to roll the dice to determine the order of his movement phrases. It was only one of many ways that he took the drama out of dance and let it stand on its own, an abstract art form.

The more flexible upper torso of modern dance and the turnout of ballet blended together in his style.

But among his many contributions, Cunningham's major influence will be the way he elevated dance from a subservient position that only illuminated the music to an equal partnership with the score. In other words, the two were composed separately and frequently met only on stage.

Cunningham turned an almost clinical eye toward his movement, using computers to choreograph during the latter stages of his career.

And he prepared years before his death by having archivist David Vaughan carefully document his work.

You might call him a practical man. But to those who worked with him over the years, he offered wisdom, intelligence and plenty of heart. Among the dancers who have passed through the doors of his studio are three Pittsburghers.

Robert Swinston, a member of the company for 29 years, served as Cunningham's assistant and will carry the torch during the next two years as the company embarks on a worldwide tour before stopping operations. Brandon Collwes has been a dancer with the company since January 2006. And Kristy Santimyer-Melita was the first local female dancer to make the Cunningham grade. She performed with MCDC for five years (1984-89), when she was seemingly the face of the company in reviews.

When Santimyer-Melita joined the ensemble, she was the beginning of a trend, a time when Cunningham "began choosing dancers who had a more ballet aesthetic. It was a real challenge and, frankly, a nice one," the former American Dance Ensemble ballerina recalled.

When she entered MCDC, Cunningham was still dancing, although by then he was 65. He stopped during the course of her tenure and she noted that "his work got more and more complicated with computer-generated dance programs -- the arms and the head movements were really, really intricate."

"You could see that evolution in his work," Santimyer-Melita said. "And what happened at the same time was the evolution of his dancers. He was really current on all fronts."

When the 90-year-old Cunningham received the Jacob's Pillow Dance Award on June 20, just six days before his death, the company was able to stream the performance live on his computer. "He watched the whole thing," says Santimyer-Melita. "He even took notes."

Cunningham had been unable to tour during the past several years, when Collwes was just coming into his own. But the former Pittsburgh Civic Light Opera performer and Pittsburgh High School for the Creative and Performing Arts alumnus still has a whole laundry list of memories.

He almost didn't make it to Cunningham. A Juilliard teacher had suggested that he try the style in order to work on his arms. But following the audition, Collwes had second thoughts. After garnering a scholarship and studying for a brief time, he decided to go back to school and then to Europe. When the young dancer heard that two of his favorite rock groups, Radiohead and Sigur Ros, were preparing scores for the company, he headed back to become a member in October 2003 of the Repertory Understudy Group, "affectionately known as the RUGS."

"From day one I knew this was a different situation," says Collwes. "He made me think and he also gave me space to figure out things on my own. To this day when I do his work, in that single moment when you're focused into yourself and your body, I find Merce there. I'll hear his voice."

Now the voice that will be speaking is that of Swinston. He has been Cunningham's assistant for 17 years, gradually working his way into a position of more responsibility by running the day-to-day operations and rehearsals.

"Whatever work I did was being blessed by his presence," said Swinston in a measured tone very similar to Cunningham's. "I always had Merce there to ask him a question."

Now he "channels" his mentor, with the full support of the company dancers, most of whom he has known since they were students.

Santimyer-Melita, who now serves on the board, recently saw the company and says they are "superb." Obviously Cunningham's legendary tradition of generosity and warmth is being upheld. She muses, "He totally changed my life -- a lot of the ways I think, a lot of the ways I approach raising my own children."

A lot of people thought the same way. People like artist Jasper Johns flew in from as far as London to say goodbye. Collwes is glad that he had the chance as well. Cunningham made a solo for him when the choreographer was nearly 90, just the two of them in a studio.

When Collwes voiced concern that he wouldn't be able to remember it, Cunningham explained, "It's in three and five and seven -- it's just a really strange game of hopscotch."

Cunningham had a benign presence. Even when audiences booed, he found it humorous. Still, because of that attitude, these dancers worry. "Not a lot of people have an idea who 'she' is," Santimyer-Melita joked. "The work is difficult to do and to watch -- that's the challenge."

"Merce allows you to look at things with a clean slate," Swinston added. "Especially as times change -- people are seeing his older work in a new way that they couldn't really see before. Somehow he doesn't get so dated because of the clarity of his vision. I hope people will see that."

Pittsburgh did. Cunningham appeared four times, once in celebration of the Dance Council's 25th anniversary, complete with receptions, talks and a performance. But at the final performance in 1998, the dancers moved with an emotion that we had not seen before.

As it turned out, Cunningham had taken the bus with them from New York. And when he hobbled out onto the Byham stage, the audience collectively rose in genuine and loving appreciation.

He had come a long way, literally and figuratively, and so had they.