The Israeli choreographer Jasmin Vardimon came to the UK in 1997. Ten years of work have produced eight hours of stage material plus many hours of rehearsal material, and in Yesterday, premiered in September, she visits her memories of these past creations. There is a danger of course that this would turn out to be an indigestible hodgepodge of unconnected bits and pieces. What holds it together is the consistency of her mainly pessimistic view of the human condition, the aggression between men and women – with the woman usually coming out on top – and the daring way in which the dancers hurl themselves and each other around.

Vardimon makes clever use of technology throughout her work. Yesterday (pictured) opens with a man lying on his back, feet in the air. On those feet stands YunKrung Song. She is holding a fishing-rod, from which dangles a camera. What she is filming – mainly us, the audience – appears on a huge screen behind her.

Later she places herself in front of a static camera at the front of the stage, and we see her drawing a thick black line from head to toe, dividing her left brain from the right, the emotional from the cerebral, tracing (according to Vardimon) the scars and marks of her physical and mental self. There is some humour as we get a lecture on avoiding disease, with the excellent Mafalda Deville as a speedy, contorted virus. Elswehere, predatory Christine Gouzelis manipulates and tries to seduce the reluctant Tim Casson. There is a long section from Park – a marvellous work in its entirety – in which the dancers are blown this way and that by the wind of a fiercely-waved revolutionary flag, and an extraordinary finale, much reminiscent of the work of Pina Bausch, in which the dancers whirl though a deep carpet of feathers.

Personally, I would rather see one complete work, but for those unfamiliar with Vardimon’s style, this makes an interesting tasting menu.