Afterward, when Race enters for a solo of her own, she reaches out to Dorfman as if to say, Nice job. It’s the kind of exchange between performers that might happen in the wings or backstage. But in the open space of the Irondale, there is no backstage, only a square of marley covered floor, white backdrop, and canopy ceiling. All is visible. Whether intentional modeling of transparency to invite peace-making, or simply a response to the physical space, doesn’t matter. I’m seeing everything as metaphor. As the cast shifts from chapter to chapter, they break the fourth wall to reshuffle their spacing—the way they might in tech rehearsal. When one says, “I need to go back,” they collectively resume a pose I remember from the beginning of the work. “Not that far back,” elicits a chuckle from the audience. 

Dorfman and Race bring long careers to the stage: Dorfman founded the company in 1987; Race, who makes her own creative work as RaceDance, joined in 1989. The two are lyrical and elegant as they dance in duet. For “truce songs” they perform alongside, more than among, the younger generation of company dancers—often striking a kind of parental presence, like a trainer at the gym might spot you when lifting weights. They are also keepers of a long strip of shimmering cloth, which they move on and off the performing space. Does the cloth represent common ground? Or is it a river that divides? In a recurring motif, Race goes upside down and balances on the stable base of Dorfman’s crouched figure. It’s as if he’s saying, “I’ll support you while you dive in head first.”

For the finale, the canopy ceiling slowly descends over all eight of the cast. They crawl from beneath and hang “their burdens” from the metal rafters—those bundles of cloth from the opening. The dancers look at each other and disperse, leaving behind the white canopy cloth spread flat on the ground. A clean sweep? Or the blank slate of a fresh start? Dorfman will want to know what you think. After the show, I get an email inviting me to share my experience in one sentence, with a link to some songs from the show, now happy ear-worms in my head.