She’s always been an exceptional dancing body, and that still holds true at the age of 67, where Lecavalier seems to have entered the uncompromising, I’ll-do-whatever-I-want phase of her career, choreographing her own solos that are worlds away from any idea of cosy retirement.

Lecavalier comes scampering backwards on stage, dressed in long coat and hood (druid vibes). Skittish as she bounces on the balls of her feet, her body quivers and quirks with a febrile quality, playing out compulsive repetitions to the restless bpm of a techno soundtrack.

Lecavalier’s movement hints at echoes of dances past – wisps of a balletic port de bras, or some entrechat jumps; a burst of hip-hop footwork – but all through a blurred filter. She’s a distinctive, mercurial presence: somewhere between witchy raver, manic pixie dream grandmother and earnest artist of the avant garde.

Danses Vagabondes is inspired by Carlo Rovelli’s book Écrits Vagabonds, a collection of essays wandering through disparate topics, the thoughts of a roaming mind. Lecavalier, too, is in constant motion, scrolling through all these impulses with a tight, nervous energy that’s strangely engaging. Although when the tempo slows the wandering goes a little off course.

It’s hard not to marvel at the way Lecavalier’s body is still very much at her command – she can still kick her leg to her shoulder, but that’s by the by. It’s harder still not to marvel at this dancer’s unquenchable maverick spirit.

At Sadler’s Wells East, London, until 27 April