In her review of the Bavarian State Ballet's restaging of Für die Kinder von gestern, heute und morgen, dance critic Malve Gradinger writes that “as far as the dance is concerned, [Pina] Bausch is absolutely contemporary” (Gradinger Reference Gradinger2016).Footnote 2 But what exactly does “contemporary” [“zeitgenössisch”] mean in this context? Why is it mentioned as an attribute and consequently given the status of an “aesthetic assertion”?Footnote 3 Conversely, in what way is Pina Bausch no longer contemporary, and what is she instead? Furthermore, in declaring Bausch's work to constitute “important dance heritage”Footnote 4 within that same review, Gradinger also implicitly describes it as being the opposite of “contemporary” (in the colloquial sense of “current”), namely, from the past or of a different time. What are we to make of this? Is Bausch to be considered contemporary or part of our heritage and therefore, historical? For are not these adjectives mutually exclusive, and does their simultaneous use not constitute a contradiction in terms? And what role does dance criticism play; what position does it occupy within this web of (temporal) relations in its retrospective translation of dance into language?
I will consider these questions with specific regard to reviews of Bausch's work,Footnote 5 along with a general theoretical reflection on the concepts of temporality and contemporaneity. My hypothesis is that the contradictoriness mentioned is symptomatic of dance journalism's perspective on Pina Bausch's work. Reviews of even her earliest pieces remarked on their respective positions in time although the reviews were by no means consistent in their ascriptions. Moreover, comparisons drawn over the years between her latest choreographies and previous ones prompt critics to speculate on possible future developments. For instance, in his review of the Tanzabend (subsequently given the title Bandoneon) printed in the Neue Zürcher Zeitung on December 31, 1980, Wolfgang Stauch-von-Quitzow writes that “in a way [it] seems to be a new version of a retrospective on past performances of the Tanztheater Wuppertal” and his article ends with the prediction: “Yet after this performance, it is certain that only something new or nothing at all can follow” (31).Footnote 6 The author of this early review clearly asserts the necessity of a timely turnaround in the series of Bausch's pieces. At that point in time (end of 1980), Bausch had recently completed her seventh year as director of the Tanztheater Wuppertal and would continue in that capacity for almost another three decades. Rolf Michaelis expressed a similar view to that of Stauch-von-Quitzow in his review of Nelken, printed in the German weekly journal Zeit in February 1983, which reads: “Though Pina Bausch may, finally, have arrived in Wuppertal (in more senses than one),” the “critical observer” is “wistfully awaiting the new, the old Pina Bausch” (Michaelis Reference Michaelis1983).Footnote 7 Here, the author clearly differentiates between an “old” and a “new” Bausch; yet, in the same breath he demands that they somehow coalesce, meaning that, in his opinion, the artist should henceforward go back to whatever she had done in the past.
Throughout the following decades, thematizations of the contradiction between or fusion of the old and the new (and even the future) became a veritable topos in reviews of Bausch's work. Critics perceived the artist as being progressively contemporary and somehow outdated at the same time or even as iridescently oscillating back and forth in (and out of) time. Such explicit, albeit diffuse, attributions of temporality are astonishing in their early accumulation; of course, later this had to do with the fact that Bausch's pieces were continuously being produced and even restaged. On the occasion of the restaging of the 1974 dance opera Iphigenie in 1990, Michaelis states: “Finally, a performance has once again been fortunate enough to meet with success. And yet it is not of our time” (Michaelis Reference Michaelis1990).Footnote 8 Similarly, in his review of a guest performance of Nelken given in London twenty-three years after its world premiere, Ramsay Burt remarks on a corresponding incongruity: “When it was new, [Dominique] Mercy's solo was part of Bausch's radical critique of the social construction of the dancing body. … So when Mercy asks ‘‘What do you want?’ in London in 2005, it sounds like he's asking, why do London audiences still want to see this old stuff? Don’t they realize times have changed?” (Burt Reference Burt2005).
The question critics repeatedly seem to ask is whether Bausch's works are a testimony to the past, present, or future. Is the Tanztheater Wuppertal contemporary or always somehow out of time? The subtitle of the conference “Dance Future II” (Hamburg 2017) was “Claiming Contemporaneity,” in accordance with which I, too, would like to ask, with reference to the iridescent temporalities already mentioned, how “contemporaneity”—or which concept of “contemporaneity”—can be specifically employed to ascertain the extent to which dance criticism as a specific text genre influences how Bausch's work is perceived. What are the performative qualities of journalistic utterances on the topic of Pina Bausch's work? Or, to rephrase the question in allusion to John L. Austin: How to Re-View Things with Words? (Austin Reference Austin2014, esp. 28–19). As translationsFootnote 9 of dance into language, reviews also move within time while discursively performing their implicit or explicit assertions and assumptions: They record, analyze, and judge.Footnote 10 In doing so, they not only react to the perceived, but also act upon and influence perception in the form of discourse, as I have explained elsewhere.Footnote 11 In this respect, a particular concept of contemporaneity can be said to be inscribed in them—a concept I will offer a brief general outline of before returning to reviews of Bausch's work. However, I cannot enter into the highly diversified and complex discussion on the topic of “contemporaneity” here.Footnote 12 Instead, I shall focus on one specific concept of contemporaneity, namely, that of French philosopher and former dancer Frédéric Pouillaude.
For Pouillaude, the term denotes not some “schema of epochal figuration” (unlike, for instance, periodizations such as modern, romantic, classical art, etc.), but rather a “structure of temporality”: “In this case: a neutral simultaneity, a contingent coexistence. In its broader meaning and without indicating any epoch, ‘contemporary’ is all that coexists, all that belongs to a particular time” (Reference Pouillaude2007, 127). Of course, such a concept is not immune to criticism, for instance, concerning Pouillaude's emphasis that it should be considered in an “extra- or parahistorical sense” (134). His concept's relative merits with regard to the topic under consideration, however, are threefold. The first is the close connection Pouillaude constructs between the term “‘contemporaneity”’ as a “structure of temporality” and dance by stating that “dance, as a scenic event, is directly shaped by such a structure” (Pouillaude Reference Pouillaude2007, 127); the second is the emphasis on “coexistence,” which is described as being contingent, or in conjunction with, and the third is the assertion of belonging to a “particular time” (127) notwithstanding.
This concept of “contemporaneity” allows us to identify several characteristics common to reviews of Pina Bausch's work along with, of course, the obvious functional, decade-long coexistence between certain journalists (as critics) and the choreographer and her dancers (as the critiqued).Footnote 13 It also allows us to analyze these characteristics in terms of their discursive performativity.
Close Partnership of Dance and Contemporaneity
Let us first consider the connection between dance (as shaped by structures of temporality) and contemporaneity (as such a structure). I contend that the reviews I draw upon in this article mirror the assumption that dance is directly shaped or formed by structures of temporality by presuming Bausch's creations to reveal their own formation, a formation involving dimensions of synchronicity and diachronicity. The former dimension becomes apparent in the specific temporality of Bausch's individual pieces, which characteristically employ repetitions and are (often) of pronouncedly long duration. The latter dimension concerns Bausch's almost peerless career (which is also characterized by repetition and longevity).Footnote 14 Journalistic criticism, in turn, reacts to the formation of Bausch's pieces with its own corresponding (textual) structural elements: the repetition and persistence of statements, arguments, and narratives.
A seemingly marginal, yet significant Bausch-specific example of such recurrent statements concerns the use of titles or rather lack of them for premiering pieces. “The new piece, which—as is almost invariably the case with new work by Pina Bausch—carries no title yet” (Weber Reference Weber1997, 19).Footnote 15 Similar, if not identical, statements are made with a regularity bordering on monotony in practically every premiere review.Footnote 16 Conversely, the existence of titles for premiering pieces is explicitly emphasized as an exception to the rule, as was the case, for instance, with Masurca Fogo in Reference Weber1998.Footnote 17 Reviewers seem content to play along with Bausch's name-game (for which there may be several reasons) without complaint. There is one review, however (of Nelken, written by Michaelis in Reference Michaelis1983 for Die Zeit), that makes metaphorical use of this lack of a title as an argument against the piece. Critic Rolf Michaelis, usually favorably inclined toward Bausch's work, deduces that this piece is “without title—not because it is so coherent that it requires none, but because … there is no longer a name that could possibly serve as the common denominator for so random a scenic collage” (Reference Michaelis1983, 2).Footnote 18 Here, the critic is drawing a parallel between a formality (the piecebeing untitled) and a formal structure (the piece as verbally incommunicable scenic collage). This argument, however, is in point of fact a value judgment (on the part of Michaelis); it is a value judgment left entirely unconcealed in a text by an experienced critic who uses it to figuratively consolidate his critical appraisal.
There are, of course, other appraisals that recur in almost identical wordings over a surprisingly long period of time. The topos of “age-induced” clemency, for example, is reproduced time and again by critics, having been introduced into critical discourse relatively early by Hartmut Regitz (among others) who, on the occasion of his review of Ahnen in 1987, concludes that the work of the then forty-six-year-old Bausch was becoming “more conciliatory, moderate, peaceable” (Reference Regitz1987, 39).Footnote 19 Subsequently, countless reviews attest to Pina Bausch's regained youthfulness, lightness,Footnote 20 and renewed interest in movement,Footnote 21 or proffer diagnoses of the recent, more harmonious representations of gender relations (as opposed to earlier, more violent, cruel ones).Footnote 22
The reviews also bear witness to the fact that criticism as a text genre does not merely depict the Tanztheater Wuppertal in its appraisal of it; rather, as a translation of dance into language, criticism performs discursive assertions that, in turn, influence audience perception, including that of the critics themselves.Footnote 23 For example, in response to the 1978 piece Er nimmt sie an der Hand und führt sie in das Schloß, die anderen folgen, journalist Stauch-von-Quitzow transfers his perception of the nonverbal kinaesthetic performance into verbal imagery, only to instantaneously charge this imagery with interpretations and judgments. He writes:
In the environment of an upper-class residence …, Pina Bausch has developed an absurdist-pantomimic dramatic ballet demonstrating in sheer endless repetitions the banal movement repertoire of human behavior. Special emphasis is placed on bodily movement, on gestures, on danced choreographic actions that reveal more about human nature than mere rhetorical self-renunciation ever could. The scene unfolding between the ten protagonists, who accomplish superhuman feats throughout the evening, begins with them lying mutely on sofas, couches, beds, or the floor. Slowly, their bodies start to move. (Reference Stauch-von Quitzow1978, 41)Footnote 24
Furthermore, the critic seems to be reassuring himself of his own capacity to respond to everything unconventional with an open mind when he writes: “The production refused to conform to the ‘normal’ expectations of a conventional audience.” (Reference Stauch-von Quitzow1978, 41).Footnote 25
The initially brusque dismissal of Bausch's Tanztheater by that same “conventional” audience, among whom this particular journalist—like many others—apparently did not count himself, is taken up in numerous reviews, for instance, in the form of citations such as, “[for] shoddy workmanship of this kind, even the term ‘degenerate art’ would be a false compliment” (cf. Schmidt Reference Schmidt1980, 25).Footnote 26 This caustic attitude toward Bausch is also echoed in reviews that make mention of vociferous protests during performances of “jeering, whistling, door-slamming” audience members leaving the auditorium and even of serious threats made against the choreographer.Footnote 27
Significantly, however, in reviews dating from the early 1980s notes on the audience's disapprobation yield to the observation (sometimes offered in amazement) that the audience had apparently learnt to appreciate Bausch. In 1983, for example, Michaelis writes the following about Nelken: “It might just be: a Pina Bausch premiere such as we have often witnessed over the past ten years in the opera house of Wuppertal-Barmen. But then everything is different: For the first time ever, no public outcry during the performance. No subscribers slamming doors seeking to escape the vagaries that the fantasy of Germany's boldest choreographer-director would have them endure” (Michaelis Reference Michaelis1983).Footnote 28 Yet precisely as the audience apparently begins to comprehend what Bausch is presenting and critics are attempting to translate or explain it, a new divide emerges as critics begin to distance themselves from the audience. While the audience's stance toward Bausch turns into acceptance, journalists begin reacting dismissively to her work. The justification for this reaction occupies a considerable amount of space in their respective reviews, as the following excerpt from a review by Michaelis exemplifies:
Under ordinary circumstances, ten years of working with the same (albeit frequently replaced) company would be taxing on both parties, the choreographer and ensemble alike, to the point of mutual creative exhaustion…. If a company denies itself challenges in the form of “‘foreign”’ ideas, pieces, choreographies, dance or dramatic music styles, or the collaboration with artists who think and experiment differently—such as the company in Wuppertal have been doing for quite some time now—then insider-inventions, which may or may not continue to delight the community that (for good reasons!) has formed around Pina Bausch, will cause the critical observer to leave for home in sorrowful reflection, especially if he or she has learnt much from this artist. (1983)Footnote 29
Michaelis goes on to ask: “Are Pina Bausch and her Tanztheater Wuppertal finally running out of questions to ask?” (Michaelis Reference Michaelis1983).Footnote 30 This question concerning the end of all questions is a dance journalistic translation of a value judgment that, significantly, is issued in temporal terms. Here, the critic is voicing his regrets about the artistic practice of asking questions and the effects it produces—a practice that though it may have proven its worth at least as far as this critic is concerned is obviously no longer effective. The critic interprets this in his question as the end of a phase, a phase to be superseded by something different that, although less suited to himself, will please the audience (or at least parts of it).Footnote 31
Contemporaneity and Coexistence
This leads us to the second aspect of contemporaneity, namely, to Pouillaude's definition of it as a “contingent coexistence” (Reference Pouillaude2007, 127). This coexistence should not be understood as pertaining only to Bausch's choreographies, but also and even primarily to the perception of the same (e.g., in the form of criticism). According to this aspect of Pouillaude's concept of contemporaneity, different modes of perception of Bausch's creations exist simultaneously. In addition to this, I would argue that the assertions and assumptions performed by critics in the form of translations influence these perceptions and consequently nurture their contingent coexistence—a coexistence that, in turn, is addressed in reviews. The following passage from a review in the NZZ by Lilo Weber on the restaging of Die sieben Todsünden bears witness to this dynamic: “Whoever sees the old pieces will understand the earliest Bausch supporters shedding a tear or two in remembrance of the choreographer's late phase of open societal critique. Yet Pina Bausch's choreographies are still as relevant as ever” (Reference Weber2001b, 57).Footnote 32 This citation both illustrates and discursively reproduces the complex, multilayered temporality pervading Bausch's work. In 1981, a full twenty years before Weber, Michaelis already explicitly identifies such a “‘structure of temporality”’ in terms of an aesthetic “‘coexistence”’ by proposing to view the “Bausch ballets” as “one big dance suite,” considering their being but “variations on the same theme,” albeit with “subtle changes, [and] delicate nuances” (Michaelis Reference Michaelis1981)Footnote 33 between them. A comment made by Pina Bausch herself and cited by Bettina Trouwborst on the occasion of the world premiere of Für die Kinder von gestern, heute und morgen seems to underscore such a proposal: “‘The topics are always the same, only the colors change’ is what Pina Bausch once said about her work” (Trouwborst Reference Trouwborst2002).Footnote 34 While Michaelis speaks of “variations,” Trouwborst uses the term “self-reference” to signify repetitive elements in Bausch's work. And she is not alone in this regard.Footnote 35
What interests me most about these comments with regard to my topic is the following: If we give credence to the claims made by the reviews drawn upon here (which range from around 1980 to 2009),Footnote 36 then Bausch's work had been perceived or presented almost from its inception as a single body of work comprised of individual pieces (“one big dance suite,” Michaelis [Reference Michaelis1981]).Footnote 37 This implies its description as a “structure of temporality”; a structure following no (particular) linear trajectory but consisting of coexisting variations and quotes in contingent cross-reference to one another, much like a web. This description is equally appropriate to the texts (reviews) themselves, however, since it is apparent that the claims made in some of them are repeatedly taken up or referenced in others and thereby, reproduced in discourse. In a way, Bausch's self-references are effectively exponentiated in the self-references of critics, in the variations of discourse. As cases in point, I will quote two reviews that, in my opinion, both paradigmatically demonstrate and simultaneously reflect on this circumstance. On the occasion of Bausch's Orpheus und Eurydike given at the Paris Opera in 2005, Eva-Elisabeth Fischer attempts to bring not only the piece and the circumstances of its several restagings but also her own perception of it into alignment with the above-mentioned “structures of temporality.” She writes:
A retinue of people, spearheaded by Malou Airaudo and Dominique Mercy who danced the lead roles at the 1975 world premiere, arrived for the rehearsals. These two dancers even performed the roles of the tragic lovers a full 18 years later in the 1993 restaging in Wuppertal and did so touchingly, movingly, from the first second to the last, more maturely, though without any apparent signs of having aged. The memory of such experiences and the moments of artistic happiness connected to them cloud one's perception of the current restaging. Every comparison could prove fatal. How does one respond to the piece after so many years? Do one's past views still correspond to one's present attitude toward life? Are feelings subject to fashions and has the form in which these feelings are expressed possibly become outdated? (2005, 15)Footnote 38
Here, Fischer is addressing how her memories superimpose themselves on and disrupt her current experience. She thereby illustrates how different times are characterized by different (emotional) responses that can be recalled in the form of memories and that, in turn, relate to or (as in this case) conflict with other past experiences and feelings. In contrast, Burt seems to respond directly to Fischer's questions by declaring the coexistence of past and present in the form of repetitions to be a creative act consummated collectively by artists and audiences alike. He writes to this effect in his review of a guest performance of Nelken in London in 2005, which reads: “[The] dancers are trying to reach out and … celebrate the fact that, despite the way things seemed when this piece was new, we're still here” (Burt Reference Burt2005).
Analogously to Michaelis's wording of a “big dance suite,”Footnote 39 we might speak of an “epic of criticism” travelling through time, just like Bausch's work, in the form of translations, thereby ensuring its own contemporaneity while still hailing from a “particular time.”
Belonging to a Particular Time
This brings us, finally, to the third aspect of Pouillaude's concept of contemporaneity. The idea of belonging to a “particular time” implies occupying a position within time that is considered one's “own” time, that is, the present, while simultaneously referring to different temporalities both pro- and retrospectively.
This paper has been written with the intention of showing how the work of Pina Bausch continues to pose a challenge for critics with respect to its contemporaneity, of showing, in other words, how critics re-view things with words. My conclusions are the following: On the one hand, reviews not only react to the multilayered “structure of temporality” and contingent coexistence of Bausch's work, but perform discursive assertions and assumptions that, though based on the present, exhibit their own multilayered “structures of temporality” and contingent coexistences. On the other hand, these assertions and assumptions—and this has been my focal interest—are reflected on, challenged, and exponentiated as such within the critical discourse itself and are therefore always already at one remove from their present. So: Is Bausch to be considered contemporary or historical? Both at the same time, I would say, since evidently this does not always constitute a contradiction.