Wobbleheads

Lacy pantaloons, bowler hats, black cloaks, leotards that look like moss, huge hats with veils that keep the wearer's face a mystery. The members of Snappy Dance Theater were trying on their costumes for "The Temperamental Wobble" for the first time during a Cambridge rehearsal the other day.

"Wobble" requires quite a number of costume changes, and Snappy artistic director Martha Mason explains one outfit by helpfully noting to a visitor that "the Umbrella Heads are like half an eggshell with legs sticking out."

Macabre yet oddly endearing, the costumes suggest characters out of the creepy little works that were the specialty of the late Edward Gorey -- and that's the point. "Wobble" is an homage to the author/artist, premiering on the program Snappy performs this weekend at the Cutler Majestic Theatre.

The work is part of Mason's 17-year odyssey in professional dance, which has included commissions from companies in Taiwan and Paris, gigs with opera and theater troupes from England to Russia, and workshops with Pilobolus. The connection with Pilobolus, those lyrical acrobats from Dartmouth College who could simultaneously be human pretzels and poetic, is evident in the "Wobble" choreography, which includes a flight of fancy for Mason -- the literal kind, up in the air.

"The Temperamental Wobble" isn't actually a Gorey title (Mason dreamed it up), but it's certainly in the spirit of the author of "The Unstrung Harp," "The Doubtful Guest," and "The Gashlycrumb Tinies." It was a copy of the last, given to her by Snappy member Sean Kilbridge, that won Mason's heart. The book is in the form of a moral alphabet explaining how 26 children died. "A is for Amy who fell down the stairs/B is for Basil assaulted by bears," and so on. Doomed toddlers were a Gorey favorite. "Wobble" has one, too: Company member Bonnie Duncan is a grown-up who, in the interest of art, transforms herself into a pigtailed, pantalooned child victim.

So smitten was Mason by the "Tinies" that she's spent the last 18 months on "Wobble." At 70 minutes, it's the longest piece she and her company -- they create collaboratively -- have staged. But, Mason points out, it's made up of 11 sections, their brevity comparable to Gorey's. The discrete sections can be excerpted, and some may show up on the forthcoming tour that is taking the Boston-based, seven-year-old Snappy from Rhode Island to California to Tokyo.

Mason never met Gorey, who died in 2000. But last year the dancers immersed themselves in his work during two weeks of intense rehearsal in Chatham that included pilgrimages to the Gorey House Museum in Yarmouthport. It was the artist's abode and is still full of his collections -- heavy rings, beach glass, and other stuff -- along with the sculptures he made out of bean bags.

"Last October we donated a performance to the silent auction at the museum," Mason says, and through that she met the Salem-based design team Kambriel, who'd been friends of Gorey's. They got wind of "Wobble" and asked Mason if they could do the costumes. "They design a lot for the goth community," she says, which explains the veils and all the black.

The score for the work is by the German composer Michael Rodach, who has produced nearly endless variations on reedy, tinkly, graveyard-worthy music. "Wobble" also uses a particularly limp and dreary bit of Chopin's "Les Sylphides."

While most of "Wobble" isn't a direct translation of the Gorey stories, there are poses and gestures that will feel familiar. One, taken from "The Lavender Leotard," involves Bess Whitesel diving into a deep penche, foot flying toward the rafters, supported by Tim Gallagher. Here Mason is borrowing a pose that Gorey borrowed from Balanchine's "Agon" -- only both Gorey and Mason subvert it by having the woman turn her head toward the audience as if to say, "This is tough. Could you please applaud now?," something Balanchine would never do.

From 1957 to 1982, Gorey attended every performance of the New York City Ballet, showing up in huge fur coats and white sneakers. Ballet inspired him to heights including "Sarah Blotter interpreting Wurmcast's Twelfth (the `Apocalyptic') Symphony, Oklahoma City, 1904."

Mason is gutsy in taking on Gorey, whose invention and eccentricity seem hard to keep up with. But in rehearsal, there are promising glimmers. "Even if you look distressed there, Bess, it's OK because you've lost your legs anyhow," Mason says to Whitesel. It's the kind of comment that builds confidence in Mason's potential to meet Gorey oddity for oddity.

Rarely have tombstones played such an important part in a dance as they do in "Wobble." A trio of them become quite active, disobeying the "RIP" incised on one. Gnarled hands appear at the memorials' peripheries. In a moment reminiscent of Giselle emerging from her grave, the bodies that go with the hands appear, and the tombstones morph into shrouds.

There's another tombstone in the corner of the studio, made of foam board treated to look so weathered and encrusted that it's hard at first to read the name on it. When you do, it turns out to be more evidence of the Gorey spirit that has swamped Snappy. The tombstone was designed by Jill Thibault: The inscription on it indicates that it's her own, and that she died in 1830.

Snappy Dance Theater performs the premiere of ‘‘The Temperamental Wobble,’’ along with older repertory, at the Cutler Majestic Theatre tonight and tomorrow, 7:30 p.m. Presented by FleetBoston Celebrity Series. 800-233-3123.