Tampa’s Seventh Avenue – ‘La Septima’ as it was better known by the immigrants who settled there – was the heart of the growing community in the early 20^th century. Streetcars rolled down the busy avenue as workers toiled in the factories that would bring Ybor City its fame as the “cigar capital of the world.”

But underneath the bustling surface was a darker, more tumultuous landscape of labor movement struggles, wrangling for political power and the fight for Cuban independence, shaped by crime bosses, revolutionary activists, immigrants from many lands and social segregation.

That is the world Paula Nuñez, director of the Tampa City Ballet, aims to portray in “La Septima,” a production years in the making that employs contemporary dance, live music, film and storytelling to bring to life the people and stories that shaped Tampa and Ybor City.

To cohesively capture the historical authenticity as well as the human complexity of this era in a 70-minute performance is probably an unrealistic aspiration.  However, judging by the opening night performance at the New Tampa Performing Arts Center,  Nuñez has succeeded in many important ways with this beautifully rendered production, impressive in its caliber and the talent on display.  

Though the source material for the show came from a plethora of places  – archives, oral histories, photographs, newspapers and personal diaries – the primary one was Wenceslao Gálvez y Delmonte’s 1897 book, “Tampa: Impressions of an Emigrant,” originally published in Spanish and translated by University of South Florida professor Noel Smith.  

Phrases from the memoir -- voiced sporadically by actor Cornelius Aurelio from a raised desk at stage left that emulates the platform where lectores (readers) read novels and political tracts to the employees of the cigar factories as they worked – provide a spare narrative thread throughout the production. (“Literature didn’t just pass the time, it passed the torch,” he says of the lector’s role.) Unfortunately, it was frequently difficult to distinguish Aurelio’s words over the effective but dominant music, leaving audience members to interpret for themselves identities, relationships and transitional changes through the abstract movements of the company’s 16 dancers.

Wearing aprons and seated on chairs as if in a factory setting, the dancers attacked the fast paced choreographic vocabulary – full of sharp arm gestures, quick transitions and extended lines – in near-impeccable unison.  Black and white A.I.-generated projections created by University of Tampa professor Santiago Echeverry – of tobacco fields in Cuba; workers rolling leaves in factories and wisps of smoke that echoed the prodigious fog machines spewing a constant stream of mist from the wings – created a charged but subtly ominous ambiance.

Shelby Russ-Nacca, portraying an immigrant activist known as “Carolina La Patriota,” showed impressive range in a fierce and athletic solo demonstrating the activist’s dedication to the revolution, and a more nuanced fragility in a pas de deux with Brandon Carpio (as the immigrant Gálvez y Delmonte), revealing her inner exhaustion.

Bathed in the first of a series of angled streams of light (design by Joseph Smith), we are introduced to a central figure of the period, a tall, slender man in a white suit with a matching hat who exudes power and moves with an elegant fluidity.  Charlie Wall (danced by Bailey Lord) was Tampa's original crime lord and a powerful Anglo kingpin who controlled illegal gambling, bootlegging, prostitution, and la bolita – an illegal gambling numbers racket --across Central Florida for decades. According to brief words from the lector (and even an even briefer demonstration in movement), Wall was also reputedly a kind of Robinhood, feeding striking labor workers and giving to the poor.

That was Ybor City by day; video projections that change the scene to nighttime and the flocked wallpaper of an Ybor City social club tell a different story. The female dancers return in fringed 1920s flapper dresses and the atmosphere becomes electric as a group of  men vie for their attention and the tensions between social classes are revealed.

Revealed as well is the classical foundation of the TCB dancers, two of whom (uncredited in the program, but later identified as Cecilia Jansen and Maria Fernanda Papa) dance on pointe, partnered by a variety of male suitors, with technical proficiency and evocative artistry. Nor are most aware that the man in the bright pink shirt is Wall’s arch enemy, mafia boss Santo Trafficante (danced by Alexander Martin.)

Daniella Mass -- a singer with a massive mane of wavy red hair and an astounding vocal range who began the production strumming an acoustic guitar and crooning a Cuban folk song – returns to flawlessly render the “Quando m’en vo” aria from Puccini’s “La Boheme” during the central pas de deux. Though not an identifiable character in the narrative, her presence added a depth and poignancy every time she opened her mouth.

As the lector intones “Chaos whispers the birth of a new age,” the cast returns dressed in black, save for Wall in his impeccable white suit. There follows an exhaustive and exhausting number, again danced in near-perfect unison, to a pounding percussive score that emphasized the striking of a single note, over and over. Both the music and the dancers’ commitment to the incessant choreographic demands reminded me of the closing moments of Twyla Tharp’s modern marathon, “In the Upper Room,” danced to a similarly minimalist Philip Glass score.

The music throughout is also uncredited in the program but, according to Nuñez, was selected to intentionally layer contemporary pieces alongside classical, operatic and Latin influences. It includes original compositions by Pacho Chibás and Alonso Toro and segments of works by Michael Karlsson, Alexander Balanescu and Ibrahim Maalouf, as well as Arturo Márquez’s Danzón No. 2

In a final adagio movement that strikes an elegiac tone, the ensemble gathers in a group behind Wall, palms pressed together and raised toward the sky as if in supplication. Wall ultimately turns his back to the audience to observe his own demise, reenacted as a shadow projected on the back scrim, which swiftly and somewhat unexpectedly brings the production to a close on a decidedly minor note.

Much of the information included here about “La Septima,” this reviewer garnered from interviews and research rather than from the performance itself. And therein lies a single critique: While “La Septima” beautifully captures the ambiance and aura of the time on which it focuses, it de-emphasizes the development of the characters that are a part of that drama.

This comes at a cost, leaving audience members less emotionally invested in the story and its outcome than they might otherwise be. A love story, an enemies’ denouement or even the fleshing out of a single charismatic character to serve as a through-line might lend a continuity and create a connection to this unfolding history that would move hearts as well as minds. At the very least, a program giving a brief synopsis of the action and a list of artists’ credits could serve to enhance accessibility, while still allowing plenty of room for individual interpretation.

That said, what Tampa City Ballet – a fledgling company that has yet to be able to sustain fully-salaried dancers – has accomplished with this ambitious production is an exciting indicator of future promise. It is Nuñez’s hope to make “La Septima” an annual program that could go on the road to be shared with other communities. With a little honing and character development, that is not only a real possibility but something to be devoutly wished.