Attending a play on the third floor at the Great Arrow Building — cavernous, sprawling, intimidating — can be arduous, particularly on these frigid February nights. Getting there is not half the fun, as the saying goes. The trek, though, is almost always rewarded.

Theater review

Three stars (Out of four)

Wading Through the Light And Shadows

Poetry, prose, dance, sound & light by David Butler.

New Alt Performance Group. 255 Great Arrow; third floor.

Through Feb.21. 868-6847 or www.alttheatre.com for info.

A case in point is “Wading Through the Light and Shadows,” eclectic performing artist David Butler’s very personal account of his life up to now, a 90- minute montage of sight, sound, dance, prose and poetry directed by Drew McCabe for the fledgling New Alt Performance Group. The creative Butler now adds “playwright” to the already impressive array of theater hats that he wears.

The work is comprised of approximately 30 scenes, the first and frankly forgettable few of the night concerned with a range of topics that highlight Butler’s quirky sense of humor, including some primitive puppetry moments behind a large white scrim; this is an upstage curtain that serves the evening well, a multipurpose home for shadows of the show’s title, a source of mood change for a cast of five: Tim Newell, Amy Taravella, Kristin Bentley, Michael Renna and Butler himself.

“Wading” rallies quickly with “Coming Out of the Car,” remembrances of a summer from hell and the angst-ridden autumn that followed, a time when Butler announced he was gay. The family was aghast. Dad lamented “all that money spent on Hot Wheels” and his sister said that she always knew since David spent “way too much time wrapping packages.” Funny but troublesome minutes here.

David then begins a long description of his recollections and observations about his world, life in general, loneliness, love, friends, nature, global concerns, urban landscapes, “issues,” quick allegories, sly social commentary — often wordless — some of David’s thought processes told if not in dance at least in movement. The poetry, heartfelt and efficiently told, unfolds in a sea of word-pictures. Nicely done.

The cast does a fine job relating the difficult task of interpreting the innermost thoughts, personal beliefs and dreams of someone else: Amy Taravella is particularly watch-able, her years as a dancer invaluable to this intimate piece; she also serves as choreographer. George Liaros is the lighting designer, a key element, and David Kane has written original music — a melancholy, laid-back underscore — and coordinated sound.

Drew McCabe’s direction is laudable; there’s much to tie together here.