Review of the performance of Anne Therese De Keersmaeker and Boris Charmatz at the Lyon Biennale

By the end of the second week, heavyweight choreographers performed at the 20th Biennale de la danse: new performances were presented by Anna Teresa De Keersmaeker with her troupe Rosas and Boris Charmatz, who heads the Wuppertal Tanztheater Pina Bausch. From Lyon – Tatiana Kuznetsova.

The extensive program of the Lyon Biennale de la danse includes authors of varying degrees of fame. All types and forms of dance seem to be represented: from non-stop hour-long performances, intended mainly for critics and producers looking for fresh choreographer talents, to the marvelous confessional performance “Ink” by 59-year-old Dimitris Papaioannou, who appeared on stage for the first time in 10 years. years. Among the rapid flow of new products, the French premieres of two internationally recognized troupes caused an understandable stir: the Belgian Rosas of Anne Therese De Keersmaeker and the former company of Pina Bausch – the Wuppertal Tanztheater, which was recently headed by the French choreographer Boris Charmatz.

De Keersmaeker’s performance “Exit at the Top / After the Storm” has three co-authors: the dancer Meskerem Mes was responsible for the singing, Jean-Marie Aerts and Carlos Garbin for the music. The latter, also a dancer, was also for her performance: he performed variations on the theme of the popular song “Walking Blues” on the guitar without leaving the ranks of the dancers. Judging by the abundance, technical prowess and ardent stupidity of the dance solos, the choreography of the performance by De Keersmaeker, famous for the minimalism of her creative style, was also left to the youth. But in the production she did not deviate from her principles: the direction was distinguished by its artlessness. At first, 13 young artists marked time, freezing motionless and directing stern gazes into the hall, then they walked, ran, and then fell on the tablet. At the same time, the composition of the frozen groups became more complex, the tempo accelerated, and the dance solos became more and more numerous, until finally everyone danced at once and each in his own way.

In accordance with the democratic trend, each of the 13 received their “15 seconds of fame”. However, the technical level and physical form of the performers were strikingly different, so the content of the mini-variations turned out to be uneven. For example, a certain burly, tall fellow even bent and squatted with visible difficulty, but a couple of his colleagues performed ground tricks with rolls on the shoulders and rotation on the head with the dashingness of real hip-hoppers. In general, the action was like a state exam in a dance school, during which the teacher shows each student from the best side. And the whole course is presented as a friendly team, which in the finale of “Exit at the Top” was facilitated by the choral performance of the original version of “Walking Blues”, which touched the audience, but did not give even a hint of a creative way out of the darkness of the banality of this performance.

The Wuppertal Tanztheater brought a fresh production of Boris Charmatz’s “Cathedral of Freedom”, the premiere of which in Germany took place in a real cathedral, and the French premiere – in the workshop of the former Fagor plant, along the walls of which spectators were seated in five rows. The performers entered the gigantic perimeter of the venue from behind them, making their way between the rows, sometimes getting stuck in front of some poor fellow and engaging him in a dialogue – pantomime or verbal. At the climax, a couple of dozen spectators were brought onto the “stage”, inviting them to hug, hold hands and dance in a circle, because not only the spiritual, but also the physical unity of all those present formed the basis of the choreographer’s plan.

The implementation turned out to be disconcertingly similar to the directorial methods of Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker: here, too, people ran (only at the speed limit), fell (but at full speed) and froze in even more picturesque groups. And they also used acting improvisation: each of the 24 artists (Boris Charmatz reinforced the Wuppertal troupe with dancers from his former company) acted in his own way, based on the choreographer’s instructions. Let’s say, when set to open your mouth to the limit and slowly move to the center of the stage, looking at the ceiling, everyone acted differently: smoothly and broadly, convulsively and intermittently, tragically, pathetically, tenderly, timidly. And they were writhing on the floor in an unusually varied manner – some simply turned the pedals of an imaginary bicycle with their feet, while others seriously imitated an epileptic seizure. Unlike the naive youths of De Keersmaeker, Charmatz gathered experienced, charismatic people, so watching their self-expression was entertaining and instructive. Only the middle-aged actors, with gray beards and deep wrinkles, felt a little sorry for Pina Bausch: after all, she did not bring them to such physical exertion – she mainly used her acting exclusivity. But in “Cathedral of Freedom,” individual freedom is enclosed within a strictly measured framework by the director: anyone who does not want to run, fall, open his mouth and sing “la-la-la” is free not to renew his contract.