At the start of her solo Ms. Mordoj stood at the back of the stage in near darkness. Holding a briefcase under her chin and dressed in a jacket, skirt and heels, she began to vocalize softly and then with increasing strength. Performing on a runwaylike strip of the stage that extended to the audience, Ms. Mordoj, her eyes bulging, stuffed an egg into her mouth — and then another and another, all the while grimacing, but keeping them down. Or so it appeared; she knows a thing or two about illusion.
As if her skin were shedding, crushed eggshells dropped to the floor. Eventually, she removed her jacket and attached two falsies to her bra while contracting and distending her belly, a feat both grotesque and stunning. At a certain point, she stopped trying to be funny — another relief — and slowly lowered herself to the floor. Bits of shells stuck to her face and chest, transforming her clown face into a spooky ritualist mask. The metamorphosis worked its magic: Ms. Mordoj held us captive.