On ice, with a twist.

performance Figure skater-artist Greg Wittrock brings a new brand of showmanship to the rink

Walk into Greg Wittrock's Manhattan apartment, and you're likely to step on one of his wild alter egos: punky Ronnie Resentment, dominatrix Demandra Now, pigtailed Penelope Pout, or angsty executive Alex Inadequate. No, these aren't Wittrock's drag queen personas. They're some of the names the gay figure skater-artist has given his creations--more than 70 meticulously detailed papier-mache masks that he brings to life in his one-of-a-kind ice show, Freezer Burn.

So one-of-a-kind, in fact, that a description of Burn proves unwieldy; The Village Voice's Michael Musto did his best, calling the show "a work of drag performance art on ice," in which "quick-change master Wittrock ... skates around playing characters ... that represent archetypes of the human condition." Hmm. Articulating Burn has been a "struggle," Wittrock admits. "People come and don't know what it is," he adds. "But this show is about being different. It's my inner psyche on ice."

Born in Kentucky to a housewife and a dental professor father, Wittrock as a child "used to put my sister's ballet dresses on and put on shows downstairs," he recalls. "My mother laughs about that now, mainly because I'm basically doing the same show I did when I was a kid--playing with personas." Come college, he took up graphics and painting, and his wunderkind talent landed him a job designing the cover for Deepak Chopra's best-seller The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success (he now parodies the guru in Burn as Deep-Ego Chakra). He also turned out the cover for the U.K. rock band James's Whiplash album.

While an ice skater since 12, the 37-year-old Wittrock professes disdain for the profession: "Everyone is taught to skate the same way, and there's no art or originality there." He even cites it as homophobic, although he acknowledges that "the rink has always been where I felt most comfortable." By combining his talents Wittrock has eked out a unique niche yet has left himself on thin ice with most skating fans. "Life can seem extremely mundane, so I have this desire to shock," he says, grinning. "I like to be shocked myself."

Last year Wittrock indeed got a shock himself when a fire in his apartment sent him couch-surfing for nine months. He spent the bulk of that time at a friend's home, "doing her cooking, laundry, creating more masks, and just hanging low." But in that time he also managed to throw more ice in people's faces: He took his lusty, lascivious Whorita character to 1998's American Open Professional Figure Skating Championship, causing much of the family-oriented audience to blanch in horror. "At first I thought, OK, I feel like I can do this," he recalls, "but when she gets down on the ice and bumps it with her pelvis, throwing her head back to the beat--it was a little raw for them! There was some booing going on."

Wittrock is assembling Freezer Burn for yet another run--hopefully off-Broadway so that even more people can catch skating characters such as circuit stereotype Stan Steroid and the pom-pom-pumping Queerleader. "She's a trip--all pumped up on phony pride and joy," he says. "I heard that thing in the media about how gay men's penises are larger and thought that was such a Queerleader thing, so now she cheers, `I'm gay, I'm proud, I'm way ahead of the crowd!' and then she adds, `By the way, gay men's penises are larger.'" The ice man smiles. "It's ridiculous, but it's what some people do and feel proud about, and that's just what all these characters are--blowups."

Ferber is a New York City-based writer who contributes to Time Out New York and other publications.