Improv dance goes to bold new extremes in Katie Duck's CAGE

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      We can’t tell you exactly what veteran dance renegade Katie Duck’s CAGE will look or sound like when it hits the Scotiabank Dance Centre next week—and that’s exactly the point.

      The die-hard improviser changes the piece wherever she goes, the only constants three wigs, four texts, and a black dress, along with a projected film and a soundtrack she alters for every performance. Working with guest musicians from whatever spot she’s visiting—whether it’s Hong Kong or Argentina—she lets these props, words, and sounds inspire everything that unfolds on-stage.

      “I’ve just watched four documentaries about your culture to see what your pop culture is,” says the U.S.–born, Amsterdam–based pioneer over the phone from the Netherlands, hinting the Cranberries’ late Dolores O’Riordan and the Biebs himself may have worked their way onto her soundtrack. “It’s not about the piece. It’s about the relationship. And I need to understand how to relate to you. I need everyone to know I’m a visitor.”

      Duck says her wish to connect to different cultures probably stems in large part from being a lifelong nomad. “I’ve always been a touring artist,” she says. “I was born in the U.S., but came here when I was 24. I’m in so many cultures and translation is part of that, so I get interested in seeing how flexible I can be.”

      From the late 1970s into the ’80s she experimented on Europe’s cutting edge, and it was during a stint starting in 1979, at her company Gruppo, which studied with Italian theatre icon Dario Fo, that she began pushing improvisation beyond its usual bounds. In the mid-’80s she began looking more toward music, and especially its concepts of spontaneity within time frames, for her inspiration than toward dance or theatre.

      “I was working with improvisation toward a set piece. I was working with my own soundtracks—and because it was the ’80s, it was reel-to-reel then,” says the artist, who’s influenced several generations of dancers. “And I realized I don’t like taking a piece and packaging it and moving it around the world. By ’85, I was getting interested in mixing this music. And I really looked at [composer John] Cage quite severely…and saying ‘I’m going to make a composition that’s played improvised.’

      “I decided it was more interesting for my public relationship for something to be chosen right in that moment.”

      In fact, the title of the work here refers to one of her art’s huge influences, Cage, and the way he offered similar choices to his musicians. But the deeply feminist artist also refers to the cages that imprison us in society, from sexism to violence.

      Musicians Ben Brown, James Meger, and Roxanne Nesbitt help bring the piece to life here. Joining them on-stage, Duck bares her body and soul, giving herself to the moment—something three decades of practice, and meticulous research into subjects including neuroscience, have made her comfortable doing. She says being able to make choices on the spur of the moment takes rigorous study.

      “And I would say for myself, personally, it’s been having 30 years to get out in front of the public with these odd situations and fail a lot,” she says, adding that her world-view also fuels her particularly bold practice: “Because I see things in a feminist way, I say you’re not a victim of the situation; you’re a survivor.”

      Katie Duck’s CAGE is at the Scotiabank Dance Centre on Friday (September 28).

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