Like Matthew Bourne’s company in the UK, the Pina Bausch Foundation guards the style and integrity of its founder’s creations carefully and rarely licenses work for performance by other companies. One of their recent exceptions, however, was for the École des Sables, a dance school based in Senegal, which they thought perfectly suited to give their classic Rite of Spring a new lease of life.
Founded in 1995 by Germaine Acogny to train students in African traditional and contemporary styles (not for nothing is she known as ‘the mother of contemporary African dance’) the company was already a major player in Africa and Acogny a great admirer of Pina Bausch and much in tune with her dance ethic. Acogny immediately identified the Rite of Spring with her experience of African ritual dances, something she felt would speak to many of her African dancers. Many of them also had experience of dancing on earth or textured surfaces, for whom the famous peat-strewn floor would be no problem. A match made in heaven! Acogny recruited and rehearsed 38 dancers from 14 African countries and they were about to embark on a world tour when, of course, Covid intervened. Only a film of their last rehearsal was available to reveal what an extraordinary experience this was.
But, fast forward a couple of years, and here they were. Initially a group of apprehensive girls in flowing ivory dresses, soon to be joined by a gang of macho, bare-chested menfolk all driven by Stravinsky’s pounding, hypnotic score. The antagonism between the sexes was palpable, as was the fear among the girls. They huddled and scattered, moving like waves across the floor, their dresses increasingly stained. The red robe that would mark out the hapless ‘volunteer’ was handed around in a terrible game of pass-the-parcel, a gift nobody wanted to keep. When a man lay down full-length on it, there was a whiff of faune in the air. As the panic increased, girls were hurling themselves at the men, leaping onto their shoulders. Occasional arabesques showed the dignity they were trying to maintain. The final dance was a heartstopper. Rite has been a terrifying and disturbing piece since its premiere in 1975 (can it really be so long?), but it gained a whole new dimension when seen in this African tribal context, its inevitability so clear.
However, this was a double bill and had as its curtain-raiser Common Ground(s), choreographed and performed by Acogny herself and the Marseille-born Malou Airaudo, both women now in their late 70s. A teenage Airaudo danced with Les Ballets Russes de Monte Carlo and in New York, before meeting Pina Bausch and becoming a key member of Tanztheater Wuppertal. Obviously, although both retain a dancer’s grace, their movement was limited but this only made it more touching: age is only a number. By chance, another piece on this year’s Festival Fringe was a piece from a company of dancers over 60, which one critic likened to ‘a slightly genteel version of Pina Bausch’…
An African sun rose on two women sitting with their backs to us, holding a spear. They embraced, as if comforting each other, before setting out to walk, slowly and contemplatively. They came together and parted, appeared to argue, touched and stroked each other gently, had a conversation (sadly inaudible across the Playhouse’s cavernous space), washed their feet in tin baths and sang ‘Que sera sera’ before sitting down again, slowly starting to stamp out a rhythm. And that was about it. A gentle reminder about age, affection and acceptance. Was there anyone in the audience who didn’t know what was coming next?