Embodying the spirit of multiple artists, let alone multiple characters is a considerable feat, and Caplan deftly performs with the wide-ranging skills of the Westerbork Theatre members. Between clever costume changes, she sings, strips, and bellydances, introducing each act as a shaking, heavily-bearded master of ceremonies. In one precarious act, she performs puppet-like choreography, pulled by invisible strings that later become four nooses, one looped around each limb, swinging her through the air. The image is enticing, and, as a result, disturbing. Like all of the cabaret performances at Westerbork, it’s a dance of death, executed with a blistering sense of desperation, with an equal balance of passion and exhaustion.