By Lucia Mauro

Since establishing Luna Negra Dance Theater seven years ago, artistic director Eduardo Vilaro has fought to redefine contemporary Latino dance. The Chicago company is based more in modern and ballet styles than in salsa or flamenco. It's certainly not a folkloric troupe.

Yet Vilaro continues to delve into the racially and ethnically diverse movement, as well as music of Latin and Caribbean countries, in fresh ways that speak to modern audiences.

Over the weekend, Luna Negra's fall engagement at the Harris Theater in Millennium Park embraced these goals with a gentle flourish. The world premiere of Vilaro's "Mi Corazon Negro" (My Black Heart)" united the dancers with renowned Afro-Peruvian vocalist-poet Susana Baca.

Baca, who has devoted her life to preserving the culture of Peru's African descendants, anchored the full-length ensemble work from the moment she entered in slow motion.

Baca wove her body's seamless rhythmic flow into Vilaro's choreographic blend of African and Latin body postures, including shoulder contractions and elegant sweeps of the hips. Structured like an informal village gathering, "Mi Corazon Negro" gives each dancer an opportunity to illustrate timeless joys and challenges.

At one point, Ricardo J. Garcia executes an athletic, anguished solo while Baca seems to walk on a cloud in the distance. The vocalist becomes the lifeblood of the work and essentially drives the dance. She offers tender maternal qualities and a quiet invincibility.

The ensemble — with especially fine work from Garcia, Veronica Guadalupe, Vanessa Valecillos, Anthony Peyla, Kirsten Shelton and Jessica Alejandra Wyatt — showed an effortless mastery of technique and artistry.

Luna Negra's program included other shorter works from the repertoire.

Maray Gutierrez's "Eterno Despertar" ("Eternal Awakening"), a melancholic quartet suggesting a symbolic washing ashore and shedding one's past, keeps revealing new psychological layers. Ron De Jesus' "The Last 12 Minutes" takes a profound glimpse into the afterlife as spiritlike figures fight for the soul of a dying woman, with a jarring finale in which these vague harpies break into molecules. Pedro Ruiz's too-short duet, "Enamorados" ("The Lovers"), is a twisted tango of flirtation, resistance and chaotic submission.