She has been turned into a pony by a red chair and a camera. She starts out in the expected way, a female body improvising in the space, discovering the space by nestling in to it. Right foot slides to tip weight of skull down, front legs ground and back hooves lift plastic torso. Ready to gallop over green grassy hills, mane ying into the horizon.
For this fraction of time, the woman and the chair have gone.
In Radio Strainer the furniture spends only part of the time in its expected role. Two red
chairs develop agency and character as the choreography evolves. The opening image of the choreography is of these chairs, dramatically lit from below, framed by amplifer and cable, central characters in a drama that is about to unfold. As the dancers enter the chairs are used for sitting, are moved through various movement sequences (Mt Fuji, The Hills) – until they are lifted into the air and are no longer chairs, but the ridiculous heads of two despondent friends.