#bausch

The choice to expose the breast is definitely deliberate. I wasn’t able to find Bausch’s exact reason for doing so, but I can make an educated guess.

I’d like to say, for the record, that out of the countless versions of “Le Sacre du Printemps” out there, Bausch’s is definitely my favourite. I even prefer it to Nijinsky’s original, which premiered in 1913. Stravinsky’s score was inspired by pagan Russian rituals or, more specifically, a scene which (allegedly) came to him in a dream: a young woman, surrounded by a group of old men, dances herself to death in order to awaken spring. The solo you’re referring to, the “Dance Sacrale” is presented as a ritualistic sacrificial dance.

Nijinksy’s choreography was inspired by Nicholas Roerich (set and costume designer for “Le Sacre du Printemps”) as much as he was by Stravinsky’s score. In fact, Roerich claimed that he was the one who came up with the libretto for “Le Sacre”. In any case, Bronislava Nijinska recalls that it was Roerich’s painting “The Call of the Sun” which served as a major inspiration for Nijinsky:

Here’s a description of Act II:

Nightfall, and the young women must choose a sacrificial victim. They perform a mystical circular dance, and leave the Chosen One alone at the centre of the stage. Abject and motionless, she stands as the men and women pound around her, entranced by her power, by the power of Nature, and by the spirit of the Ancestors. The Chosen One then starts to dance, in unison with the music and the earth itself. She falters, exhausted, and finds new strength. Finally she falls dead. The tribe lift her as an offering.

“Dance Sacrale”, sometimes referred to as “the test” is an excruciatingly demanding solo. The Chosen One dances herself to death. And the expression is only half-figurative. Here’s Deborah Bull’s recollection of her performance:

“…but by now you’re starting to lose control of you legs. You think they’re doing the steps, but the chain of command between brain and feet has somehow been severed and you have to trust that although you can’t feel anything below the hips, except the numbing effect of lactic acid, the message is still getting through. Ten darting turns right and then left, before the final effort: a dozen more bounces, flailing arms, before you drop to the floor. The drop is real.”

Deborah is describing Nijinsky’s version, but Bausch didn’t exactly take a relaxed approach to the solo either. What I’m saying here is that you have a terrified sacrificial victim, whipping herself into an absolute frenzy before collapsing dead on the ground. Flailing limbs, disarrayed hair and exposed breasts go perfectly with this image. It could be as simple as that.

It’s also worth noting that the image of an exposed breast is ubiquitous in art. Most commonly, bare breasts are used to signify fertility, renewal and life, but they are also a significant part of the martyrdom iconography. All of this symbology ties in rather neatly into “Le Sacre Du Printemps”.

“Martyrdom of Saint Agatha” by Sebastiano del Piombo: 

“St Eulalia” by John William Waterhouse: