Toward the end of Pina Bausch’s “Kontakthof,” a woman stands alone onstage, eyes cast down, disconsolate. One by one, men approach, gently caressing her shoulders, tweaking her nose, stroking her hair, rubbing her legs and stomach. Slowly, the relentless accumulation of these gestures transforms them from affection to assault; tenderness has mutated into aggression, pity into victimization.
“Kontakthof” — the title refers to a courtyard, originally in a red-light district — was created in 1978, five years after Bausch became the director of the Wuppertal Ballet in western Germany, and promptly renamed it Tanztheater Wuppertal. The three-hour-long “Kontakthof,” set to German popular songs of the 1930s, jazz and tango, was a pivotal piece for the young company, entrenching the potent mix of drama and movement that Bausch called Tanztheater, and leading to broader international recognition for her work. (She died in 2009.)
In the 46 years since its creation, “Kontakthof,” with its themes of loneliness and longing, desire for love and fear of rejection, has remained a mainstay of the company’s repertory. And it has migrated beyond the company, performed by the Paris Opera Ballet as well as by amateur casts of teenagers and seniors.
Now it will have another incarnation: “Kontakthof — Echoes of ’78,” opening on Nov. 26 at the Wuppertal Opera House. Conceived and directed by Meryl Tankard, it features nine of the original dancers, including Tankard. The performers, ages 69 to 80, will dance the roles they created while footage from that first production, filmed by Rolf Borzik, plays alongside them onstage.
Salomon Bausch, the choreographer’s son and head of the Pina Bausch Foundation, said he had at first imagined a version using as many of the 1978 cast members as possible, with newer dancers to fill out the cast of 20. But Tankard came back with another idea.
“I had asked to watch some early footage,” she said in a video interview, “and it struck me how simple and honest we were, and that it looked quite contemporary. Rolf was Pina’s partner, they worked hand in hand, and the filming is really through his eyes and subjective, not like an archive recording. I thought, we could use this footage, keep only the original performers, and dance with it.”
Salomon Bausch loved the idea. “It’s a strong and beautiful idea that also gives space to those who are not physically there,” he said. Six members of that first cast have died, and several others weren’t able to participate.
Alistair Spalding, the artistic director of Sadler’s Wells, which is producing “Kontakthof” with Tanztheater Wuppertal, said: “You see a whole life, the young dancer to this elderly person, their memories, the passage of time.”
In video interviews, five members of the original cast who are performing in “Kontakthof — Echoes of ’78,” talked about those early days, creating the piece, and the experience of coming back to it nearly five decades later. Here are edited excerpts from the conversations.
Meryl Tankard
When Salomon and Sadler’s Wells got all excited about my idea, I thought, I’m mad! It was already May, with performances scheduled for November. I had done a script-writing course years ago and decided I had to construct the show like a film script and be very precise, because there wouldn’t be time to try things out.
A big part was working out what to cut. The others would say, “We can’t do three hours onstage!” Now it’s about half that. I selected parts from about 20 hourlong tapes — an enormous amount of editing. Even though many scenes are shortened, I think the essence is there.
The transformation of the dancers has been amazing. The first week, I was a bit, Aarrghh, is this going to work? But their energy and physicality, their brains and bodies all kicked in. What’s funny is that not only the physical things come back to us now, but also the emotion. I felt, Oh, we are all so old. But those feelings in your body come right back.
In a strange way I feel we have more confidence now, even though our bodies are older. We have got nothing to prove. This is what we can do now — but hey, didn’t we look cute then?
The material brings back so many memories. I had just joined the company, straight from the Australian Ballet, and I was very obedient. I was always watching Pina very closely, and I realized she choreographed vulnerability. She didn’t want you to make it clean. And that direct looking at the audience, it gave you a power onstage that I had never felt before.
Lutz Forster
When Salomon approached me about this, I said, “It’s a stupid idea, we are too old.” Then Meryl told me her thought about using the footage, which I think is really special.
In the beginning, with Pina, she worked a lot on movement, without music, just tiny little steps. She was also asking simple questions, like, “Show me six gestures of tenderness or aggressive tenderness.” It’s incredible what she could do with very little material, with one little sequence that goes throughout the piece in different contexts, dynamics, attitudes.
You never knew where a piece was going; it was open to what the dancers had to offer, what happened during rehearsals, and other things. Once I was in the car with Pina and Rolf, driving to Bremen, and Rolf was playing a 1920s song. Weeks later, we were rehearsing a scene in “Kontakthof” and she suddenly said, “Bremen, Bremen, the song,” in a low voice. I sang it, all out of breath, and that stayed in the piece. It’s a good example of how she worked. The choreographic machine was never turned off.
“Kontakthof” was the start of a new audience in Wuppertal — theater people. Every director of a certain quality, great actors, all came. The car park was suddenly full of registrations from all over Germany.
Elisabeth Clarke
The first thing I remember about “Kontakthof” is Pina saying she wanted to do a piece about the circus. We started working, and I didn’t really get how it was about the circus. Now I can see the connection, how we are also performers doing tricks in an arena.
I loved the freedom and confusion of just doing stuff without having to understand what it would become. Just staying curious. Pina never explained anything — anything. Nor did she judge.
I remember questions like: What would you do if you wanted someone to notice you? Or you wanted to get attention in a public place? People would take turns to get up and show a response, and there was no right or wrong. But you couldn’t pretend or show a picture of an emotion.
We learned how to be there with all our vulnerability and silliness and unattractiveness. That’s a big thing for dancers, who always want to be beautiful. For me, it was constantly daring myself to be that honest.
When Salomon approached me [for the new production], I thought, If my body will do it, I’m all for it. Let’s get the band back together! To be back rehearsing in that same room is insane, like science fiction. The wonderful thing is that people are very much like they were then. Perhaps our idiosyncrasies are stronger.
I have been quite surprised by some things, physically speaking — that I can walk in high heels for one thing. But emotionally it feels different. I don’t take myself so seriously anymore. This is what it is!
John Giffin
It was our first time working in the Lichtburg [in 1978], an old cinema that became our rehearsal studio, and the way it looked became almost the exact set of “Kontakthof,” with a screen at the back, black chairs, a piano. We worked on gestures of tenderness — the whole range — from adolescents coming together to something more adult and erotic, and past that to aggression.
Pina had an amazing ability to see what was lurking underneath the surface. We would rehearse in this way for two months and there would be no piece, and then one day she would come in and the compositional part began. She held the memory of two months of work and would put small moments together, like a quilt, but without a pre-existing design.
This project isn’t about reproducing “Kontakthof,” but showing something different. I have found it quite physically hard. But you have to do what you can; a lesson in humility isn’t a bad thing! We have all laughed so much doing this.
There was always the understanding that we were not going to compete with our younger selves who are there on the film. We are them, but we aren’t them either. I don’t have the same dancer ego I had then. Of course, the emotions of the work are still resonant: problems with showing tenderness, with relationships, communication. They are part of everything that makes life of value.
Josephine Ann Endicott
I think the fact that both Meryl and I were Australian had a big effect on “Kontakthof.” The themes of loneliness, leaving everything behind, searching for love: All of this became very present. We also had a humorous side, so Pina brought all these new colors into the piece. She was amazing at organizing the material, putting blocks together, chopping and changing until it felt right. You never had the feeling she was lost.
For me, it was a tough piece. I had very little time offstage and so many costume changes. But I loved showing everything, from being young to being a diva, to screaming and dancing. And being onstage in those beautiful satin dresses and high heels, with elegant hair gave you a feeling of being special. At the same time you had to be yourself.
I have been teaching “Kontakthof” since 1999, to teenagers, to the Paris Opera, to the company. It’s a work I have been close to my whole life. But it’s another thing to be onstage performing it again. Some days I feel 100, and other days, I feel, Oh I’m cute again, like a teenager!
Age is a strange thing; the work keeps you young and alive somehow. After a week of rehearsal, all my colleagues also started to look 10 or 15 years younger. It’s a magical thing that we are going to do this, with our younger selves, and with those who are not there anymore — their presence is almost more important than we are.
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