Montpellier, France. 10:45 pm.

A score of couples populate the front of the Musee Fabre.

The dancers, men and women of a variety of ages, glide effortlessly gracefully across the makeshift open-air dance floor to the unmistakable rhythm of violins and bandoneón.

Layered over the music is the gentle sounds of water cascading from a fountain in a nearby park where fire twirlers practice under a moonlit sky. A vibrantly colourful light projection splashes the silhouettes of the dancers onto the facade of the museum. Bodies pressed together in a tight passionate embrace, their movements are slow and elegant, footwork deliberate and precise.

For the moment, they are lost in the dance and ignorant of the small crowd that has gathered to witness and politely applaud between songs. Once the music stops they return to reality, reanimated back to their former selves: ordinary everyday citizens of Montpellier.

Such is the transformative power of dance.