If you're back in town from the Blue Ridge or the Eastern Shore and desperate for a dance performance, Naked Feet may fill a need. This company from Stevenson, Md., is offering bland choreography and tame displays of technique at the Dance Place this weekend.
Much of the repertoire is by artistic director Robin Williams. She favors unison work for her core group of a half-dozen women. Once a mood is set -- be it that of a modern tribal ritual, an underwater world or cows grazing on the prairies -- the pace may get faster and the togetherness may fragment a little, but the choreography does not develop. Part of the reason is that Williams chooses what ought to be just background music on which to build her dances, but even with a couple of more prominent scores she manages to iron out the interest.
Two scenes, though, make one sit up briefly. Ellen Forman's duet for a television-addicted couple trying to break the habit in order to make love contains grotesque touches that are rather original. And, for a moment, Williams' visionary depiction of a child's death makes an effective turn-of-the-century-living picture.
The level of the dancing, too, is background. As active scenery, the troupe's women are unobjectionable, but not one of them manages to catch the eye and hold one's attention with honed movement. The men function as mimes and escorts. For anyone but a dance junkie, Naked Feet can't beat sticking your toes into a mountain stream or into cool sand where waves lap the beach.