Andrew Dinwiddie and Michelle Ellsworth at Danspace Project Michelle Ellsworth in "The Pythagodress," her solo piece. For their shared program at Danspace Project, Andrew Dinwiddie and Michelle Ellsworth have scrutinized the act of transformation in two virtuosic solos. Mr. Dinwiddie is a rock star who turns into an object of worship in "Farewell Tour." And Ms. Ellsworth, in a 120-pound, 5-foot-wide and 9-foot-high costume in "The Pythagodress," becomes a wearable, portable set. Andrew Dinwiddie projects the persona of a member of the rock band Kiss in "Farewell Tour," at Danspace Project. The costume enables Ms. Ellsworth to morph into different looks and is credited to Priscilla Cohan, Janice Lacek and Bruce Miller. At first Ms. Ellsworth is hidden underneath its voluminous tan skirt, but as soon as she emerges, she's a chatterbox, delivering a nonstop sales pitch throughout the piece in a clipped, unemotional tone somewhat reminiscent of that of a "Saturday Night Live" character played by the actress and comedian Kristen Wiig. The Pythagodress, she explains, offers an alternative to standard coping mechanisms like pharmaceuticals and religion. Everything she needs, from spices to aluminum pipes, can be found in its folds, and as Ms. Ellsworth ruminates on subjects like the Golden Ratio, she attaches those pipes to sections of the pentagonal structure that forms the base of the dress. Fabric hooks onto them, creating shelter. The dress, also something of a Rubik's cube, is constantly rearranged, exposing the easy manipulation of a jittery mind. Ms. Ellsworth's diatribe, however impressive, is a little like a stand-up act that begins to sag under the weight of so much material. Even though Mr. Dinwiddie's lip-syncing could stand some improvement in "Farewell Tour," his work is heartier fare. Dressed as if he were a member of the band Kiss, Mr. Dinwiddie uses a 2005 bootleg of onstage banter from one of that group's musicians, Paul Stanley, as his point of departure. As he skips around the stage in circles, he pretends to play to a stadium, mouthing the words, "Let me hear you!" The recorded crowd roars back. As spotlights dance on the stage and ceiling, Mr. Dinwiddie is wittily precise in his characterization and movement, which tap into the animal within the man. His black-and-white stage makeup renders him virtually unrecognizable as he whips up the crowd. Gradually, he transforms again - Chopin fills the theater - and his choreography is pared back until the rock star image takes on religious undertones. But while the movement is less crass and more ritualized, it still maintains a sense of hedonism. The cult of personality is the consistent thread, and "Farewell Tour," despite hitting some popular notes, is enduringly spooky. Andrew Dinwiddie and Michelle Ellsworth perform through Saturday at Danspace Project, St. Mark's Church, 131 East 10th Street, East Village; (866) 811-4111, danspaceproject.org.