Page 4 of 4
On first reflection, Ice/Car/Cage seems to be about humans turned into machines. The men respond more to the car than to one another, letting it determine the shape of the dance. And the men's presence is very quiet, muted under a soundtrack and accompanying found sounds: a loud, low-pitched refrigerator buzz; intermittent Chopin Nocturnes from the portable radio; the chugging of the car; and the subterranean clatter of the nearby Muni. The only sound from the dancers is the thud of their bodies hitting pavement. But what keeps the men revolving around the car -- and hushed -- is not oppression but some inarticulate desire to blend and mesh with their environment, even a postindustrial one. They don't want to stand out like some bad-ass, flaming red Firebird; they want to melt into a block of ice or hum like an engine. Ice/Car/Cage's stark beauty conveys the integrity of that desire and then goes further, suggesting it is an impulse toward freedom: The piece begins with a man let out of a cage. Liberated, he rushes to dance with a car.
-- Apollinaire Scherr
« previous 1 2 3 4
