Some dancers sat as others invaded their space.

The dancers sit from time to time on three chairs at the back.

The dancers sat down, fanning themselves with their hands.

At that festival's close, the dancers sat onstage and listened to the singers.

The dancers sat in the studio for two hours as Balanchine tried to figure out what to choreograph.

Next the dancers sat in a semicircle of chairs, looking like people at a conference.

There were no customers inside, and the half-dozen dancers sat at the bar talking.

A dancer sat in a chair and reminisced while other dancers swirled through the space.

Its dancers sat on, climbed over, crouched under and slid across benches.

The dancers clutched and sat on one another, as if this thinker could not rid himself of his thoughts.