Wearing Just Their Emotions, Dancers Strip in Cloudless

This past week, Dance Theater Workshop produced Susan Marshall's Cloudless, an evening-length work of 18 episodes. Presented like poems, each was unique in quality and content but linked most tangibly through the relationships of the five company members. The piece has no narrative, though it certainly doesn't take a tale to hold the viewer's attention. Marshall is not telling a story here-she is allowing the audience brief glimpses of sometimes quirky, often intimate details of the dancers' characters and interactions.

The program reveals that Cloudless was a collaborative process for Marshall and her company members. A creative approach is apparent in the dancers' ease and individuality in both the movement-based and dramatic aspects of the performance. "We are a group of people who are comfortable and vulnerable with each other on a daily basis," Marshall related in an interview that was printed in the program. "Some undercurrent of our off-stage, personal lives filters into the work and, although it doesn't rise to the level of subject, it adds a felt layer of intimacy...the intimacy of being comfortable and not having to dress-up."

And dress up they do not. The dancers are costumed in athletic pants, T-shirts, skirts, and slacks, nothing they would not ordinarily wear. As it turns out, more of the piece has to do with undressing. Dancers frequently strip themselves or each other with a carelessness that accentuates this developed level of comfort and intimacy. In one episode, Joseph Poulson vaults himself onto Petra van Noort upside down so that they clutch each other's legs to prevent Poulson from slipping to the ground. They repeat these acrobatics several times, Poulson's grasp taking van Noort's pants with him each time he slides down her legs so that, little by little, they come off.

Pieces of van Noort's wardrobe are pulled from her several times, though she is not the only one who shows some skin. Poulson's shirt comes off, too. Darrin Wright performs "Solo With Table" in his underwear. Although the first instances of unclothing may surprise the viewer, Marshall's costuming choices fall smoothly in line with the array of seemingly superfluous but completely necessary and charming details scattered throughout Cloudless. When Wright walks onstage in his underwear and climbs onto the creaky wooden table, his attire seems completely appropriate. As he moves through his clockwork routine, absorbed in his task and his movement, his relative nakedness perfectly expresses the strange mix of privacy and vulnerability that the solo conveys.

Luke Miller later joins Wright and becomes a soothing part of what has evolved into a duet, titled "Cup." Miller brings with him a cup and saucer. "Why?" one may question. "Why drink tea while dancing?" Because, the viewer comes to realize, anything else would be imperfect for the piece. Miller comes to Wright as a source of comfort. What could be more comforting than a cup of tea?

This sense of compassion is constant throughout Cloudless, as the dancers, either individually or as a group, consistently care for one another. In "Ladder," four company members help Kristen Hollinsworth as she hesitantly makes her way to the top of a ladder, floating as facilitated by a clever use of harnessing devices. In "The Sound," Poulson tenderly cups his hand over Hollinsworth's mouth to prevent a horrible shrieking noise from emitting. In "Book," Hollinsworth and Wright whisper to Miller and Poulson, offering kisses and guidance, as the distressed pair finger through an enormous dictionary, the pages of which are blown by a fan.

Every element of the production adds to this greater, heartfelt theme, illuminating the dancers' care for one another and leaving the audience glowing.