Between the Ice Sheets: June in January

Laura Peterson rehearses "Interglacial" 

-- By Tom Phillips

"Interglacial" refers to the period between geological Ice Ages -- the current period, about eleven thousand years old, the age when humankind established its dominance over the earth. That age may well be extended by the effects of humankind and its technology, pumping an ever-increasing volume of carbon dioxide into the air, trapping heat and raising temperatures, melting ice.  

It was 69 degrees on  January 11 in New York --  a record high -- when huge icebergs cracked on Canal Street in New York before an small audience in a storefront.  The ice was simulated but the sights and sounds were familiar.  It was just like the videos from Greenland and Antarctica of ice sheets "calving"-- sending  mammoth chunks of melting ice roaring and plunging into the sea.  

Laura Peterson's choreography is always an interaction with space and materials -- wood, grass, plastic, etc. -- the stuff that makes up our world.  About two years ago she started experimenting with paper, and at some point it became clear that its properties have much in common with ice.  It's smooth and slippery, it lies flat, it crackles, under pressure it stands up and forms shapes, and under enough pressure it breaks up in unpredictable ways.  

"Interglacial" was conceived to bring home the global meltdown of ice. Peterson and her dancers performed the work-in-progress today, each hour from noon to eight, free for anyone curious enough to drop in to the storefront at 323 Canal.  

Inside, huge sheets and balls of white paper played the part of the world's natural ice, and three dancers played the role of global warming.  They smoothed out the paper and used it as a dancing surface -- displaying the cool mechanics of ballet steps, civilization at its most elegant and highly-developed. Then these lovely humans proceeded to sabotage the scenery, crawling under the paper floor, standing it up into crazy conical shapes, then sending it rolling and tumbling down in broken heaps. The sound track roared and crackled, with the keening of whales in the deep background.  

The humans -- advanced as they are -- seemed utterly unconcerned with the destruction they had wreaked.  Meanwhile on the street, the June-in-January revelers paraded in shorts and tank tops, snacked on hamburgers and ice cream, drank water from innumerable plastic bottles, and filled the trash cans to overflowing.

"Interglacial" isn't done. Watch for it near you.

-- Copyright 2020 by Tom Phillips

Following the Ark: The People's Climate March

-- By Tom Phillips   



Photos: Brandon Johnson

The day began for me with an interfaith prayer service -- the first I've ever been to that seemed to be all in a common spirit.  People gathered on 58th Street under the banners of their various faiths, but I made my way through the crowd, trying to get close enough to the stage to hear the prayers and songs.  Starting with a friendly bunch of Congregationalists from Vermont, I made my way up through Unitarians, Pagans, Quakers, Buddhists and Ethical Humanists, until I wound up on a ragged border between Jews and Catholics, only about 100 feet from the action. 

For once, all the prayers and invocations pointed in the same direction.  We all have a common interest in survival, and the lives of those who come after us.  And there's no disagreement on the who our opponents are -- global corporations, artificial persons created by law for the purpose of doing business, which by their nature put profits first -- even at the risk of civilization.   

Between the two sides lies the institution of government, which has the power to regulate business, but which has largely abdicated its role.  The purpose of the march, on the eve of a U-N conference, was to challenge the idea that governments can't decide in favor of humanity.  Yes, they can.  

The interfaith crowd filled the entire block of 58th Street from Eighth to Ninth Avenue, and hundreds of other groups gathered in other streets surrounding Columbus Circle.  We had to wait while other groups got the march underway, but the band was rocking -- the cellist Michael Fitzpatrick with his intense vibrato, improvising behind gospel singer Roosevelt Credit, and Peter Yarrow, bent and shaky but still singing with conviction, making us sing along.

Finally we stepped out, cheering, behind a replica of Noah's Ark, a float festooned with all kinds of people.  One guy had a T-shirt that said "Don't panic, I'm Islamic."  Another's sign said he was "An Atheist on the Ark."

The march stretched as far as the eye could see, in front and behind, and went on for hours.  I came home and saw a report that said "tens of thousands," but it was hundreds of thousands, without a doubt.  The mood was entirely festive.  This was a celebration of human life and community, the very things at risk.