Echoes of youth: dancers over 70 reclaim pina bausch’s ‘kontakthof’
Nearly seven decades after its creation, Pina Bausch’s ‘Kontakthof’ is returning to the stage, not with a new generation, but with the original cast – a remarkable group of dancers, many now over 70, revisiting their iconic roles.
A palimpsest of time and loss
The production, devised by Meryl Tankard, unfolds with a poignant intimacy. Eight dancers, including Josephine Endicott, 76, and Ed, 80, step into the film of the 1978 performance, their movements mirrored by ghostly projections of their younger selves. The piece, a darkly humorous examination of courtship and power dynamics, feels eerily relevant today – a detached observation of human folly, underscored by songs from the 1930s.
What truly distinguishes this iteration is the palpable sense of history. The absence of John Giffin, a key performer in the original, is acutely felt; his phantom presence, a lone hand reaching for an empty space, is profoundly moving. It’s a testament to the enduring power of Bausch’s choreography and the stories it tells.
The weight of years, the fire of performance
Tankard herself offered a candid reflection during the curtain call, admitting a longing for children and the enduring ache of missing her mother. This vulnerability adds another layer to the work, transforming ‘Kontakthof’ from a dance piece into a meditation on time, aging, and the bittersweet nature of memory. The dancers, clad in pale silks, defy the limitations of their age, their faces etched with a knowing grace, their movements retaining a surprising vitality.
“She still can dance and no one can stop her,” exclaimed Josephine, her words carrying a joyful defiance. The performance isn’t just about recreating a past; it’s about celebrating the resilience and beauty of these women – a living archive of a singular artistic vision. The backdrop, a seamless blend of film and live performance, creates a surreal, almost dreamlike atmosphere, folding time into itself. It’s a performance that lingers long after the lights come up, a haunting reminder of the echoes of youth and the enduring power of art.
Photograph: © Uwe Stratmann