The Rite of Spring Review
February 8, 2024 | Dorothy Chandler Pavilion – Los Angeles, CA, USA
This was not my first experience with The Rite of Spring, but it was my first experience with Pina Bausch’s legendary version.
The Rite, now touring internationally, is presented as part of an ambitious double-bill co-produced by the Pina Bausch Foundation, École des Sables and Sadler’s Wells – representing only the fourth time anyone outside of Bausch’s company has performed her work.
For this program, The Rite is brilliantly paired with common ground[s], a new and supple duet choreographed, performed, and inspired by the storied lives of Germaine Acogny and Malou Airaudo.
The Rite of Spring Review
The program, which opened at L.A.’s Dorothy Chandler Pavilion on Thursday, Feb. 8, begins with common ground[s]. The 30-minute piece – set to Fabrice Bouillon LaForest eclectic score – starts in a disconcerting period of darkness and silence which is eventually disturbed by a low orange light upstage.
As the light intensifies, Acogny – founder of the Senegalese École des Sables – and Airaudo – an original member of Tanztheater Wuppertal – appear silhouetted against the fiery backdrop. Seated side by side and with their backs to the audience, the two delve into a decidedly tender narrative of friendship and compassion.
Commanding the greatest admiration, Acogny and Airaudo are both in their 70s.
As such, the piece lacked any pyrotechnic tricks but relied exclusively on the duo’s ability to give corporeality to the raw magnetism between them.
From transforming a slender pole into a powerful oar to calling upon the audience to imagine an abundance of flowers covering the stage, Acogny and Airaudo build their narrative using only placid motions and modest props.
Overall, the piece was heartwarming, grounding, and left me with the impression that a life well-lived is achievable by anyone at any time. But this upbeat sentiment would not last long.
common ground[s] was followed by a none-too-brief intermission which was in many ways a show in itself.
As soon as the lights in the theater rose, the stage crew rushed the stage to roll up the Marley floor and nail down a heavy black mat. Backed by low chatter and the adamant plea of ushers for the audience to “stop taking pictures,” the stage crew then wheeled out several large carts packed with fragrant peat moss which they then dumped and swept across the stage.
Taking rakes, they methodically leveled the thick layer of peat until the stage was perfect for the billed performance to follow.
While Pina Bausch is well-known for her poetic endeavors into the human condition, none is perhaps as renowned as The Rite.
Before now, this piece has been performed only by a select number of European dance companies.
This program, however, features a specially assembled cast of more than 30 dancers hailing from different dance pedagogies and 13 African countries, including Benin, Burkina Faso, Côte D’Ivoire, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Ghana, Kenya, Madagascar, Mali, Mozambique, Nigeria, Senegal, South Africa and Togo.
Yet they dance as a codified company.
The opening image is of a young woman who – lying face-down in the dirt – appears to be clutching a piece of red fabric. As she begins to writhe, she is joined on stage by other women.
Then more women.
And even more women until the stage is replete with nearly a dozen manic women in sheer ivory slip dresses.
As Igor Stravinsky’s strangled score unfolds, the latecomers dart across the stage in every direction, frantically tearing at their frocks and gathering momentum until high notes of the bassoon command them to pause and the first dancer with the red fabric to stand.
Bausch’s Rite is rife with symbolism; it’s part of the choreographer’s enduring charm.
As a pack of bare-chested men rush the stage, their entrance arouses palpable distress amongst the women. Adopting the dominant male archetype, they are confident and striking, and there is no doubt they are in charge.
The perennial battle of the sexes has begun.
Soon after, the stage breaks out into concerted chaos. Both the women and men frantically fly across the stage, spiraling, spinning, darting, and clashing aggressively with one another – kicking up loose dirt in the process.
Eventually, the women surrender and succumb to the inescapable fate – one of them must sacrifice herself.
Bausch’s vocabulary is unique. It is harsh, dramatic, and exhaustive but at the same time exceedingly beautiful.
To execute such a marathon as The Rite demands tremendous physical and psychological stamina, and the specially assembled cast of dancers were short of neither. While all expertly embodied the elemental power of Bausch’s choreography combined with Stravinsky’s score, none did so as the Chosen One. I had never seen anyone dance with such ferocity and honest emotion.
Dripping from sweat, covered in dirt, panting for breath, and partly exposed, she definitively responds to Pina Bausch’s iconic question:
“How would you dance if you knew you were going to die?”
It has been nearly five decades since the acclaimed choreographer and cultural storyteller Pina Bausch premiered The Rite of Spring and nearly 13 years since her death, yet she refuses to be forgotten. Key to ability to remain relevant is the ability to tap into narratives that are transcendent in scope and universal in scale. As shown through this program, The Rite is no exception.
Featured Photo for this review of dancers in Pina Bausch’s The Rite of Spring performed at The Music CenterThe Music Center by Maarten Vanden Abeele.
