The “mountain” is a stage covered in soil, and from this barren earth life springs — lives distilled to their eccentricities; behaviours stuck on repeat cycles. Bausch’s world is an ever-shifting collage, moving in a blink from comedy to tragedy, violence to poignance.
At a mere two hours plus interval, Auf dem Gebirge is one of the German choreographer’s more compact works. If you haven’t experienced the very particular theatrical magic of Tanztheater Wuppertal yet (and if you can get a ticket) this is a good place to start.
In short, an all-too Bauschian mound of ideas, originality, darkness and tenderness – performed with passion and conviction by the late choregrapher’s troupe – that would have been so much more potent for a lot of ruthless trimming.
A woman walks up a wall horizontally, supported by two men; a man makes a sandwich of his forearm and offers it to the audience. Another man keeps interrupting his rendition of Cry Me a River to remove articles of clothing. There are balloons, screams, cigarettes and a l…
Few would argue with Wuppertal’s commitment to maintaining the astonishing legacy of Pina Bausch. But as the company start to pick though the choreographer’s back catalogue, I wonder if their project of reviving lesser known productions will be one of diminishing returns.
Her brief … was to create works that were deeply personal to her. The result is a 90-minute show that pushes her stamina and powers of conviction to the limit. Both choreographers have Vishneva dancing on the edge of the confessional, but also on the edge of self-indulgence.
By the time, at the close, she’s laying into a never-ending heap of lemons and dolling them out to the audience, you have the inescapable feeling that Carlson, and indeed Vishneva, really should have known better.