Louise Gillette, artistic director of the Trapezius Aerial Dance Company, begins by questioning the most fundamental and inescapable constraint on all dance, indeed on all movement—the force of gravity. What, she asks, would dance be like if it took place not on or just above the ground but primarily in the air? One way of testing this potentially liberating premise would be for the dancers to work from trapezes, as they do in the circus; indeed, Gillette's earlier work (which I have not seen) did just that. In the present instance, however, her dancers do not fly; instead, under their outer clothing they wear thin mesh body suits to which a large buckle is attached at the waist, so that they can clip themselves at various heights to ropelike harnesses that hang from the ceiling. Once attached, and of course still subject to gravity, their range of movement is quite different from that of either trapeze artists or earthbound dancers. On the one side, because they are hanging and because they can swing, they do not have to support their weight. On the other, because they are attached at the waist, unlike aerialists they cannot dismount on their own or hang from the platform, but with the ropes hung close together, one dancer can cling to another and use the second dancer as a platform.

Last week's hour-long program at the Conwell consisted of 15 short numbers, performed without interruption, and played in the dark. It began on the ground, but after a while took to the ropes, and the scenes were broken up by several brief interludes in which the nine dancers climbed ladders between the two levels of the theater and generally ran up and down the aisles, usually at top speed.

According to Gillette's program notes, the scenes originated in exercises that began with a premise at once emotional (e.g., relentlessness, powerlessness, coercion) and technical. Gillette also says that from these exercises "emerged the possibility of creating movement scenes which would take place within a very small space, lending a sense of being trapped." A good example is provided by Fitful Sleep, in which two dancers' limbs are intertwined like those of sleepers tangled on a bed, except that because they are harnessed to the same point on the rope, they are unable to recoil far from one another, as they could if they were on a bed. On the other hand, because they are securely attached, the dancers can take astonishing positions that often led to humor as well as menace.

In any event, once the premise is laid down, the choreographer and company then develop the ideas that emerge as the concept is explored kinetically. The result is as strong emotionally as it is physically. The opening number, Ticking, took place on the ground; in it, two couples, each outlined in a square of light, moved mechanically to the ticking of a metronome, in the process generating mounting anxiety. Drowning was a nightmarish struggle that took place, also on the ground, in which one dancer attempted to free herself from the grasp of another. In Orbiting, two couples were in harness but at different heights, so they could swing toward one another but never meet, creating anticipation and frustration. Throughout, the audience was impressed by the extraordinary strength and versatility of the dancers and at the same time oppressed by the powerful overall effect of their work. The general feeling of the evening was that of obsession, of fear of intimacy, and of the fear of solitude, as the title Fear of Flying indicates.

Whether intentionally or otherwise, the combination of the harnesses and the much greater vertical element of the work served to distance the dancers from the audience, even in Conwell Theater, which is a relatively small, albeit high-ceilinged, space. We in the audience took in the patterns created by the dancers swinging on the ropes, and were struck by the unexpectedness of the movements they carried out, but often the faces of the dancers were in near or total darkness. (I hasten to add that this was certainly intentional; the lighting design, by Nanette Hudson-Joyce, was exceptionally good.)

Louise Gillette is doubly gifted: she possesses a remarkable choreographic talent and has gathered together a splendid company that is able to translate her imagination into movement. I look forward to seeing more of this remarkable lighter-than-air approach to dance.