The season winds downbut not very far down, and much later than it used to; even financial and emotional woes don't seem to stanch the flood of new dance constantly filling our lofts and theaters. I pull from my pile of programs for performances seen but not mentioned the one for Jonathan Appels's April concert at the Clark Studio Theater. He calls his troupe "very meta modern dance poeticians," and the excesses of that label mirror the excesses of the work. But his hour-long Heat Lightning challenged exquisitely ballet-trained dancers with a constantly shifting sound score combining his own poetry with classical, funk, and house music. Hallucinatory and gorgeous, it cries out for another run.