Pina Bausch & Tanztheater Wuppertal - Auf dem Gebirge hat man ein Geschrei gehort - Photo by Ulli Weiss

Pina Bausch & Tanztheater Wuppertal: Auf dem Gebirge hat man ein Geschrei gehort

Pina Bausch & Tanztheater Wuppertal - Auf dem Gebirge hat man ein Geschrei gehort - Photo by Ulli WeissStepping into the surreal and beautiful world of Pina Bausch’s pieces is always a pleasure; an experience to be relished. Although for this latest foray into her back catalogue it is a dark world into which we’re plummeted. Auf dem Gebirge hat man ein Geschrei gehort (On the Mountain a Cry was Heard) was created in 1984, and this is its first performance in the UK. It is designed with trademark boldness by long-term collaborator Peter Pabst who has blanketed the vast stage with thick soil. Through the earth, Bausch’s dancers flit between intimate moments of tenderness, outbreaks of violence, hilarious absurdities and frantic, messy, urgent movements.

The piece opens with the dancers, dressed as ever in gowns, heels and suits, skirting skittishly around the perimeter of the stage. Fear drives through the entire two and a half hours. The images are familiar yet strange. The piece is reigned over by a clown-like Michael Strecker dressed in tight red speedos and matching red plastic swimming hat. He smiles and wades through the soil, seemingly in control of the chaos that surrounds him. He calmly blows up balloons as they burst in his face, and lifts Ditta Miranda Jasjfi high into the air as if she is a feather. At one point he dresses his forearm as if it’s a sandwich – placing salami and cheese on it and offering it to the audience to eat.

In stark contrast to his composed sly smile, the rest of the company are frenzied. There is a recurring image of a man and a woman being violently chased down and forced to lock lips. Engulfed in a thick cloud of fog two women shriek as their hair is pulled by men. Topless women, attempting to cover themselves chase after the man who has stolen their dress. In one of the darkest moments a man drags woman after woman around the stage, screaming into their faces until they comply with his orders. His desires to rape and murder ferociously spill from his mouth.

Throughout the nightmarish visions there are moments of tenderness that cut through. An orchestra of senior musicians accompanies the image of a woman slapping herself but being interrupted by four men who enable her to float through the air. It’s a relief from the self-inflicted pain. A couple of older men step-ball-change to a Fred Astaire number, quietly in tune with each other. It doesn’t last long and Bausch propels us back to the ferocious gang-like chases as the lights fade. As Pina Bausch pieces go it’s certainly one of the darker ones, less laughs and less full-out choreographic sequences than her later work. Auf dem Gebirge paints a murky world of inequality, violence, and the horrors that live in our nightmares and, for many, their realities.