Celebrating the beauty of aging
A new show features a pair of dancers with 141 years under their combined belts. Zhang Kun reports in Shanghai.
In contrast to conventional ballet, where the allure lies in the flowing, precise movements, the performance put up at the Ming Contemporary Art Museum in Shanghai on Oct 25 was all about highlighting the beauty of imperfection.
Taking to the stage on this day were Cao Zhiguang and Liu Guilin, both of whom are retired ballet dancers from the National Ballet of China. The pair has a combined age of 141.
Titled When My Cue Comes, Call Me and I will Answer, the performance was an intimate affair where the two dancers changed costumes in front of the audience and relived their younger years through familiar moves like plies and port de bras.
The performance was without doubt unusual. At one point, the 82-year-old Cao slapped the calf and arm of his 59-year-old dance partner, leaving her slack muscles wobbling for the 200 audience members to see. Cao, who sports a bulging belly, never looked comfortable whenever he had to lean backward.
“We are stepping into an aging society. Growing old is an irreversible process, but that doesn’t mean you have to passively endure the declining health and physical capabilities,” says Cao.
“We need to pay attention to our body, be conscious of its change. There is beauty in the aging process. I am still able to dance, make harmonious movements and inspire others to think about their own bodies, and themselves growing old someday.”
The show was the brainchild of Wang Mengfan, an art history scholar-turned dance theater choreographer, who has been fascinated with how a life of ballet can impact one’s body.
“It was in 2016 when I became close friends with a dancer in Germany. Then, he was forced to retire because the company didn’t extend his contract. Following this incident, I became interested in exploring what happens when a dancer ages,” Wang explains.
“In Japan, kabuki artists sometimes continue dancing at 90 years old, and in Europe and the United States, dance artists have been developing new techniques to cope with their constantly aging body. I wanted to find a method to work with elderly bodies in the Chinese context.”
Inspired by German artist Pina Bausch and her Tanztheater works, Wang has worked as an independent theater director and choreographer in Beijing, creating projects that combine modern dance with experimental theater.
In the past few years, she has worked with different groups of people, such as dama — a common Chinese term that refers to middleaged women — to create dance theater works. Wang eventually found Cao when she was in the midst of creating a new dance theater project related to aging.
Instead of creating a clear storyline or fashioning dance moves, Wang would collect the memories of her dancers and develop them through a series of physical training and interactions to initiate dialogues between the dancers and their bodies.
The creative process, she says, is equally, if not more, important than the performance.
“We were talking for a few months and she never once gave me any instructions regarding the dance moves. I was for a while so confused that I wanted to quit. But she inspired me to communicate with my limbs, and be aware of my body,” says Cao.
“It was a beautiful process. Nobody has paid so much attention to my body before she taught me to do so.”
Wen Shengyu was among the dancers in Wang’s 2018 creation The Divine Sewing Machine, who can attest to her unusual methods.
“At that time, I played with other kids on the stage, and we made all kinds of things with fabrics,” says the 14-year-old. “Wang’s work was different from other theaters. We didn’t know our moves. We also didn’t know how we should interact with other kids.”
This time around, Wen participated as an audience member with his mother, who conceded that she was moved by the elderly dancers’ performance.
“They say muscles have stronger memories than the human brain, and I can still see the beauty of their muscles and body lines,” she says.
The performance also hit close to home for 65-year-old Zhang Qian, another member of the audience.
“I was very stricken. The dancers brought out so many memories that reminded me of my own life and existence. I never expected to see a performance so close to my heart.”