Duo’s abstract ‘Crack’ offers dance in multi-dimensions

A tranquil setup greets the incoming audience: The stage is barely discernible behind a glazed, milky drop ashimmer with blue dots, with a hushed yet restless sound of wind in the trees. But there is an uneasily nihilistic world waiting to be unveiled, layer by layer. The front drop turns out to be two: one a gauzy material, the other like a sturdy see-through shower curtain. Scofield and her four strong dancers are likewise costumed in a smoke-and-mirrors manner, sometimes wearing metallic-looking long-sleeved black tunics, sometimes appearing naked, with flesh-toned body stockings streaked here and there with gold paint or material, just barely covering breasts, bottoms, and genitals.

The blend of illusion and reality that informs perceptions of time and memory is also a motif in “Crack.’’ Sometimes film of dancers is projected, acting as doppelgangers to the performers on stage; sometimes a dancer is twinned with such a projection, then tripled, another dancer suddenly illuminated just upstage. These effects are terrific, and the piece could benefit from further exploration of them.