In Really Queer Dance With Harps, which is performed to an original live score composed by Zeena Parkins, Greenberg refrains from censoring repressed movement material—be it "excessive," "flamboyant," "ambiguous," or "illegible"—and revels in choreographic choices both queer and Queer. In this way, the dance also explores the subtle traces, residue, and ephemera of performance experience. With a process that sources from videotaped improvisations of all the performers, learned verbatim, Greenberg continues to collect and hone directly from the dancing body.

Really Queer Dance With Harps builds on questions Greenberg first posed in his 2006 Quartet With Three Gay Men, with which it is paired in performance.

The titling of both works represents a strategy to overlay the dances with ideas of sexuality and gender, asking viewers to hold different media together simultaneously—the aesthetic object of the dance and the conceptual discourse embedded in the title—and negotiate the poetics of perhaps not being able to connect them or separate them, but to nevertheless experience them. In this way the dances continue the thread Greenberg has been following in his recent work concerning meaning-making: the role of perspective and vantage point, and the necessarily limited and tentative nature of how we construct meanings from the various "data" we perceive.

Really Queer Dance With Harps premiered at Dance Theater Workshop in New York City.

(53 minutes, eight dancers, three harpists)

"It's a mystery why sometimes a few people moving on a stage in apparently random patterns can look so right. In the first 10 seconds — maybe 5 — of Dance by Neil Greenberg's 'Quartet With Three Gay Men,' the oddly graceful, undulating movements of the four dancers, the jangly sounds of Zeena Parkins's score, and Michael Stiller's clear, bright light have the immediate effect of a poem. Meaning is compressed and harbored, to be released in thrilling fragments, inconclusive and richly layered… Mr. Greenberg's artistry [in 'Really Queer Dance With Harps'] resonates through its confluence of the random and the necessary; the continuous stream of motion in which no one moment is particularly important and each is beautiful; the almost magical quality of occasional formal symmetries. It's quite right that Mr. Greenberg includes the music in the dance's title, since Ms. Parkins's thrillingly varied score and the presence of the musicians are as vital to this work as the dancers - all excellent and exceedingly individual in presence… Bravo to Dance Theater Workshop for giving Mr. Greenberg a longer run than usual; you have another week to see this, and you should."

"With music and movement layered just right, Greenberg achieves what seems to be his forte, deftly assembling the strata of a dance so that new meaning peaks through when we least expect it…?If you've never seen a dance by Neil Greenberg, picture a few individuals—maybe two, maybe eight—scattered through space, each in the midst of a unique, all-absorbing task. They rarely make physical contact, or eye contact, but somehow they remain parts of a coherent whole, a landscape continuously transforming, though it's hard to locate just where these transformations begin… Greenberg turns [his] style almost inside out loosening joints, liquefying the spine, letting knees buckle and eyes wander and limbs dangle, for dances that are, at times, deliberately messy, and always rich with peculiar detail. I call it peculiar; Greenberg calls it 'queer,' at least in the title of his latest creation, Really Queer Dance with Harps, which pries at the varied meanings, social and aesthetic, of the word… Throughout the work, eight down-to-earth dancers appear immersed in dialogue with their own bodies, by turns inquisitive, indifferent, and discouraged… In a recent interview with Time Out New York, Greenberg described his interest in un-censoring movement that's 'been repressed' in a culture where 'gender and sexuality are so inflated.' Really Queer Dance, blurring those boundaries, opens up unconventional avenues of physicality and sharpens our awareness of the fact, too often taken for granted, that there are boundaries to be blurred in the first place."

"A smart, socially and politically charged investigation of the dancing body… Understated, nuanced, spatially intelligent dance."

"one responds to its openness, its wit, its joy, and its released danciness with pleasure that is also personal."

"Greenberg's dancers tell only the stories that live in their bodies, and their movements—while difficult technically—twist and swing easily through space… They all inhabit the same complex, sunlit society, and give the impression of being on private forays through a fascinating world, their gestures responding imaginatively to variations in terrain and colored by Parkins's vivid score. The eight never touch or acknowledge one another until they reappear in a giddy coda that's more welcome than any happily-ever-after… Greenberg queries in poetic, unemphatic ways our habit of defining what's 'masculine' and what's 'feminine.'… three-dimensional and richly layered…"

"His subject is invariably an inner life that we can only approach via surfaces--an inner life that in fact is made up of surfaces, the detritus of the everyday… [The dancers’] bare galumphing feet--smacking the floor exactly as you're taught not to in ballet class—call to mind Frankenstein's monster (on a good day). They resound with social ineptitude and a rough flamboyance. Meanwhile, the arms are socially aware. They're grace notes of affect. So are the flowers in the hair of boys and girls alike. Fragility and delicacy, self-declaration and tribal identification, flitter on the body's periphery as if the soul and its accessories were butterflies."

"Everybody's thrilled by and writing about Neil Greenberg's new Really Queer Dance with Harps, and you should really queerly or otherwise see it--especially for the radiant trio of harpists, led by composer Zeena Parkins, at the golden heart of the piece. But my own really queer heart has gone and continues to go out to Quartet with Three Gay Men, the 2006 work danced by Greenberg, Luke Miller, Antonio Ramos and Colin Stillwell. It's just--hooray!--11 minutes, and some of that time is spent dancing to RuPaul's "Supermodel (You Better Work)." Can't go wrong, in my book, with RuPaul. And it's a fantastic dance, too, like a prism breaking Greenberg into four avatars who render his spacious movement with luscious, queerforward simplicity. Oh, did I mention it's only 11 minutes? Brevity, the soul of wit."