Michelle de la Reza and Peter Kope learned long ago that people don't have to come to the dance. They could take the dance to them, hence the name Attack Theatre. In the '90s they were two of the instigators that formed the East End Event, where residents literally opened up their homes to site-specific work. Visitors could find a cornfield in a living room or a brand new mural in a hallway.

The Attack Theatre duo learned a lesson at one early event, though, during what they call "The Unfortunate Incident at 5041/2" when Ms. de la Reza went through the plate glass window in their living room. She wasn't injured, but a viewer on the porch got his arm cut by a shard of glass. (Luckily there were four doctors in the house.)

Since then they have developed "100 percent radial awareness," according to Mr. Kope, something that has stood them in good stead while pirouetting in front of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra's first violin section or performing "Slippery When Wet" in a bathroom.

Now they're taking their dance to a whole new level -- eight public and three private performances in 10 different Pittsburgh museums and galleries over the course of two weeks -- in "Assemble This."

It was something that they first performed at The Frick Art & Historical Center more than a decade ago. The premise? They would provide a basic phrase of movement and then proceed, with onlookers in tow, to three works of art. Through conversation with and suggestions from the patrons, they improvised and added the new movements, forming a completely new patchwork quilt of a dance.

Because this is Attack Theatre's 15th anniversary, the highly collaborative group (usually Ms. de la Reza, Mr. Kope, manager Donna Goya and marketing and education manager Rebecca Himberger) was conversing about retrospectives to mark the occasion. At one point during the marathon meetings with lots of coffee and pretzels, "Assemble This" bubbled to the top. "We realized it has such a rich history with Attack Theatre, not only in forming relationships with other arts organizations, but also to other art mediums," enthuses Ms. de la Reza. "Conceptually it was the birth of a new direction for us."

Then they realized that, except for the very beginning at the Frick, "Assemble This" was only performed out of Pittsburgh. Some were fairly close, with performances in Ohio and upstate New York. Others were more exotic, such as the Avignon Festival in France and Jacques Cousteau's Monaco Oceanographic Museum, where brightly colored fish became the artwork.

They ultimately felt that they should revisit the production in Pittsburgh. But, as Ms. de la Reza puts it, "Of course, we just can't leave anything alone."

Keeping to the workaholic nature of the company, they went on the "attack." If they did it in Pittsburgh, it would have to be more than one show. But if they did more than one show in a gallery, it wouldn't be authentic because "you can't act like it's something new when it's not new because you use the same works of art."

The solution? Different venues, "which is the insane part," as Ms. de la Reza puts it. Mr. Kope adds, "I think we're driving Rebecca and Donna crazy."

They are certain that, with this project, the lines between administration and artistic are "blessedly blurring in a way that everyone is contributing by investing in the process." Ms. Himberger agrees. "It's hard not to become a part of the fold in some way or another," she says. "Peter and Michelle want everyone to own the company as much as they do."

That means the new partnerships, too. Ms. Himberger relates how they constructed a wish list in early August and set about calling their favorite galleries and museums. As it turned out, everyone wanted to join in this Pittsburgh tour de force.

Next they set a time frame of two weeks or so because they were flying in cellist Dave Eggar, who will accompany them along with percussionist Charles Palmer (yes, live music is always a must these days). "The stars definitely aligned in securing the dates," Ms. Himberger says of the tour, which begins at SPACE and ends at the Warhol.

The various partners have a say in their programs -- the art selection, the location of the box office, the reception. "We've been working even more diligently to protect those partnerships," admits Ms. Himberger. "It puts a strain on us but in a good way."

That also means extra planning, because everything has to fit in the company's traveling green room, already labeled the Bat Van, a rented vehicle that will contain tables, sewing kits, bottles of water, even Sharpie markers. The Attackers will also bring their own box office for the smaller spaces, complete with signage.

After all, instead of a run in one venue, there will be 11 mini-openings and closings.

What to expect from eight public performances and three private viewings? Although they already have a general "lay of the land," so to speak, the company members will arrive in the early afternoon to case each place.

They will have to forget everything from the previous night (except the four-minute introduction to the company, which is called "The Blank Canvas") and start anew, a variation, you might say, on "Groundhog Day."

The dancers will refresh their memories as to the artwork and try to prepare for the improvisation. At 7:30 the dancers will begin warming up for the performance in full view of the patrons. "We try and meet every person in the audience," explains Mr. Kope. "We want to encourage interaction, not gawking and staring."

With that philosophy, the audience will own the performances every night.

Although the emphasis is on improvisation, Ms. de la Reza insists that "it will not be a free-for-all -- there's a lot of structure. You won't be able to see how everything changes if you don't have a benchmark."

After viewing "The Blank Canvas," the entire entourage will proceed to the first piece of art. Audience members will offer their thoughts and the dancers (ranging from two to five depending on the amount of space) will convert adjectives like "knotted" "or "discord" into movement phrases to be inserted into the original structure. Mr. Eggar might use something like "discord" to switch the music from major to minor on his cello. Mr. Palmer might counter by switching percussion instruments.

The process will be repeated until the original four-minute "Canvas" grows to 15 or 20 minutes.

"It makes your brain hurt by the end," Ms. de la Reza admits. "You're memorizing not just the various improvisations but where they begin and end. You constantly have to think ahead. It's an incredibly invigorating and exhausting mental process."

"It's hard for people to believe the improvisation really is created on the spot," Mr. Kope says. Still, onlookers enjoy watching the creativity and choices that the dancers make.

"They get to see from square one how the process works," Ms. Himberger adds. "With that, they get to see what I saw when I first met Peter and Michelle."

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