Full Frontal Fosse.

This headliner of Broadway's tribute to Bob Fosse has enough energy for two shows at once.

The wild halo of auburn hair that marks her stage persona in the Tony-winning Fosse is tied back in a casual bun. Elizabeth Parkinson has just come from a full day's rehearsal of a Mark Dendy workshop production, and now she has four hours to rest before going on as one of eight featured dancers in the Broadway hit. With her sleek, spare frame clad tidily in big khaki slacks and a white tank, she'd never be mistaken for the sizzling powerhouse we see onstage. She settles back on her dressing room couch in the Broadhurst Theatre to supply some autobiography.

Born fourth of five children in St. Petersburg, Florida, she excelled in school academics. At age eleven she saw a road company of Dancin' (created, coincidentally, by Bob Fosse) and immediately knew that it was what she wanted to do. So, at the relatively late age, for girls, of thirteen, she began studying ballet at a local studio. She spent summers at a monthlong Joffrey Ballet dance camp in Texas, which strengthened her technique and her determination to pursue dance.

Upon graduation as class valedictorian, she took a deferment from Wellesley College--where she had sought acceptance to please her parents, both professionals--and joined the Joffrey II company in New York City. Since then, she's danced nonstop. She moved into Joffrey's main company in 1984 and stayed for six years. Then, the deaths in the same year of her dad, a dentist, and Robert Joffrey, her artistic mentor, made her realize how deep her love of dancing was, and that it was time to broaden her horizons. Secretly, she auditioned and won a place in Eliot Feld's troupe. "I learned about really physical, athletic dancing, which I needed," she recalls. "Eliot was always saying, `Bend your knees! Go play in the mud! Get dirty!'

"It was a small company, so I got to dance a lot, which made me strong, both physically and mentally, because he can be a difficult man," she understates.

Then, in 1992, Parkinson was invited back to the Joffrey for Billboards. "I returned really a changed person, and I think they were surprised by it. I took what was given me, but I also fought for what I wanted. Before, I'd been afraid to ask for what I wanted because I wasn't sure I deserved it. That's the training of a dancer."

After two years with the company, she had saved enough money to study voice and acting and to begin freelancing in concerts and musical theater, including Singin' in the Rain in St. Louis ("the Cyd Charisse role") and the road company of Carousel.

Another tough choreographer, Donald Byrd, asked her to join his troupe. Byrd notoriously demands the utmost risk-taking, both physical and emotional, from his dancers--just the challenge Parkinson was seeking.

"With Donald you always knew where you stood. I felt like I could stand up for myself in an argument. It was more of an adult situation."

During the first season of Byrd's Harlem Nutcracker, she danced--among other roles--Sugar Rum Cherry (Ellington's version of the Sugar Plum Fairy). Ironically, Byrd created the character as a Fosse-style vamp. In rehearsal, she was the quintessential professional: unwaveringly dependable, focused, and generous, and she always danced everything fully. While her colleagues might take it easy here and there to nurse an injury or save energy, she gave herself fully to every step, the kind of discipline and dedication choreographers dream about getting from dancers.

Meanwhile, on the advice of her friend and Joffrey colleague Gary Chryst, Parkinson had been studying with Broadway choreographer Chet Walker, who was putting Fosse together. He invited her to other classes where they were teaching Fosse numbers, grooming dancers for the show. In 1996, the Livent Organization produced the show's first workshop.

"We all auditioned," says Parkinson. "It was very nerve-racking because it was something I really wanted, and I'd never had to audition like that, with eighty other women. And at that time, theater dance, wearing heels, was still not familiar ground for me. But I felt that the show was right for my style of dancing."

She got into that workshop production, then a year later, another workshop. "The audition process for this show was long--a lot of callbacks," she sighs. In May 1998 Fosse went into final production in Toronto.

For most of the two-and-a-half-hour show, Parkinson is onstage dancing everything from the fandango to the frug. And her solo in the finale is astounding. She was right--Fosse's style fits her like a glove. Her sizzling, daredevil rendition of the original Ann Reinking trumpet solo in "Sing Sing Sing" virtually stops the show. And there's not a trace of ballerina.

How does she keep it all fresh eight times a week? "It's been a very interesting experience," she says. "When you do something night after night, you do discover more every night. It's there to learn, if you look for it.

"Not every show is a gem," she admits, "but the difference between what we feel is a bad show and a great show is minuscule. In the beginning I was too hard on myself. I'm always pushing myself to be better. I felt every night it's got to be more interesting or you have to find something new.

"I realized after about six months," she says, laughing, "that that was just a little too neurotic! Now I've relaxed a little. I'm still working hard, but in a more joyous way."

About getting through the strenuous, all-dancing show, she says, "You learn how to rest [while dancing], to take care of yourself, and it becomes a way of life, a way of being. It's a bit of a roller-coaster ride, physically and psychologically, and it's about accepting that--not worrying about it."

Her training regimen? Yoga class.

Demanding as her "day job" is, she rehearses from ten to four weekdays with Dendy "For six weeks, I haven't had one day off. I've been living like a nun!" she says, laughing. "I get up, eat, go to work; every free moment I take a nap."

Amazingly, the stress doesn't show: she's alert, articulate. Despite the pounding schedule, she wishes she had more to give to Dendy: "I really love the project. I can learn a lot from it, but I can't afford to get sick or injured."

To keep up her strength? "I've been drinking a lot of those protein drinks."

And what about her personal life? Parkinson leans back on the couch; her eyes twinkle and her face glows as she talks about a wonderful bonus of Fosse: her fiance, Scott Wise, also featured in the show. They met during rehearsals and planned to be married this summer.

After our hour-long chat, we cross West Forty-fourth Street to a health food deli, where Parkinson will replenish her energy with a nutrition-packed snack before leaping on stage to finish another fifteen-hour workday. And there's a big smile on her face.

Dancer-choreographer Gus Solomons jr is a New York City critic for Dance Magazine.