Then, with a large loft bed structure in the space, Kim Johnson was alone, wheeling and tumbling under a dazzle of starburst projections that were activated by pulsing synthesizer music. As if in a dream she climbed to the top of the bed, where another woman, her alter-ego (Shura Baryshnikov), was asleep. In a wonderful exchange, Struckholz blew Baryshnikov over the edge of the bed and Baryshnikov pulled her down the ladder.
Dressed identically, they whispered together, shadowed each other. Then, in spite of her partner, Baryshnikov changed into a blouse and skirt. Like something newly hatched, she tested the space around her until, at the end, she was standing on the bed, reaching for the stars, as all five of the others watched her from the floor.
, Dance, Dance Reviews, Nell Breyer, More