Miguel Azcue’s dance career has taken him thousands of miles from his birth country, Cuba—to the Compañia Nacional de Danza del Ecuador, to a modern-dance master’s of fine arts and the Ririe-Woodbury Dance Company in Utah, to the avant-garde Carte Blanche in Norway, and to Philippe Blanchard in France and Sweden. He’s now based in Malmö, as an artistic director of Memory Wax, which he cofounded in 2004.

But an irresistible force keeps pulling him back to Havana and its vibrant dance scene, spawning a truly unique Scandinavian-Cuban cultural partnership.

“I left when I was very little but I was always very connected to Cuba,” Azcue says from his home in the southern Swedish port city. “I don’t know if it’s because there’s such a strong identity there, but I always go back there. It’s strange, because when I do go back, I feel a little bit like a foreigner. But what happens there is pure passion and impulse.”

He adds that Cuba offers a welcome offset to his orderly Scandinavian surroundings: “Everything works perfectly here, and in Cuba you don’t know if things are going to happen on time. They’re two totally different worlds and two different ways of living your life, and there’s so much in the middle to learn.”

Memory Wax now collaborates regularly with Havana’s Danza Teatro Retazos, the Habana Vieja–based company that Azcue’s own mother founded and still runs, where he got his start as a dancer when he was a kid. The result is striking dance that draws on the rhythmic movement of the Caribbean island nation and the contemporary edge, as well as the theatrical imagery, props, masks, and multimedia touches, of his work in Sweden. Local audiences will get their first chance to see the bold hybrid when Memory Wax and Retazos make the Canadian premieres of two works here: the hip-hop– and pantomime-pumped Crisálida and the physically flowing Possible Impossible.

Azcue describes Crisálida as an investigation into individuality and the need to belong to a group: “Who is the person? There is the person outside the skin, but inside there is another world.” Mixing Afro-Cuban and other music, it plays with surreal white masks, curly white wigs, empty mirror frames, and other striking props. Possible Impossible is a contemporary-feeling work that pushes physically and plays with reality and illusion, projecting video versions of the dancers as they move.

For these and other pieces, Cuba provides endless artistic inspiration for Azcue. “I feel I have more freedom in Cuba,” he comments. “Everything can be done there: we can fail and we can just have fun. I like to find that freedom to be playful and not carry too much baggage. It’s exploring and trying to find the human there and freeing myself from judgment.”

So Memory Wax draws a lot of benefits from its Cuban counterparts, but it’s clear the dancers there, who work in a country often isolated from the world, also benefit from Memory Wax’s support—through everything from resources and equipment to touring and workshops by visiting choreographers.

“That’s where I can contribute and that’s very rewarding,” Azcue enthuses. “There is so much music and talent and art, and to actually contribute to that and take them out in the world is important.”

It’s exciting work, but he might have had it easier if he had connected two countries that were closer on the map. “I have to travel a lot,” the affable artist says with a laugh. “It is a bit crazy. I don’t get used to the hours in one place and I already have to go back to the other. Or I have to get used to the snow again. But I like this combination of cultures—and weather!”

The Vancouver International Dance Festival presents Memory Wax/Retazos at the Vancouver Playhouse on March 11 and 12.