The starting point for this fascinating amalgum of art forms was a piece by British choreographer Siobhan Davies.

Called Score, it became a short film: shot from an overhead angle, it shows four dancers wheeling in concentric circles almost like human pixels, sometimes seeming to go rogue before returning to sustain the pattern within the bigger picture. Watch it – preferably before seeing the other works – and you’ll tune into the impulse that saw Davies say to, among others, a playwright, a poet, a ceramicist and a musician, “What do you make of this?”

What emerges from their reponses is a matrix of thrillingly individual artworks, performances and installations, all worth attention in their own right, but colluding to make Rotor so much more than a sum of its parts. There’s a tremendous, shape-shifting pleasure to be had from wandering back and forth, just bouncing one encounter off another moment of looking. Take, for instance, the sound installations – a poem written and read by Alice Oswald and a text by playwright EV Crowe - that are located on the balcony overlooking the airy well where one of Dovecot’s weavers is, in real time, creating her connection to concepts within Rotor.

Crowe’s words are to do with how to tie a knot. Brisk, sometimes tetchy instructions that are a direct spin-off from movements charted in Davies’s choreography, A Series Of Appointments (performed live at specific times). Oswald’s haunting lines also resonate with images of knots and of walking backwards – as happens in Davies’s choreography – but ties these into a memory of a sad and wasted life. Meanwhile, in full view, a new and vibrant tapestry is weaving into existence.

Catch the liquid, flowing illusion of Ben Tyers’s moving metal sculpture then watch Davies’s quartet of outstanding dancers jockey and interweave – before launching, with wit and gusto, into Matteo Fargion’s demandingly precise, gorgeously whimsical a capella Songbook with its semaphore gestures and teasing juxtapositions of vocalised sounds. In the background water plops, weeping from perhaps the most exquisite installation of all, Clare Twomey’s unfired clay pots that can’t hold water but collapse or split into open mouths under stress.

Your heart and mind become awash with associations that are cosmic, everyday, universal, personal. And there’s more besides to feed into the tapestry of your perceptions. But hurry – Rotor ends tomorrow..

Details of opening hours: www.dovecotstudios.com, 0131 550 3660.

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