ABSTRACT
When you dance Ličko Kolo you sense a dozen people’s interconnected hands and synchronized steps. The dance begins in silence. To the rhythm of deliberate footfalls, one voice keens and is echoed plaintively by the whole group: “Sing to me, O Falcon, beneath my love’s window. She fell asleep; cold was the stone beneath her head. I took away the stone and there I placed my hand.” As the dancers follow a curved path, the line expands and contracts, breathing as a single body. The challenge is to adjust your movements to an unspoken common denominator: not to do what “feels right,” or dance as brilliantly as possible, but to move in harmony with the group. The ensemble becomes greater than the sum of its parts, a visible embodiment of sensuality and cohesion.
