Cape Ballet Africa’s Breathwords: A transformative evening of dance that elevates the soul

Gabriel Ravenscroft, Mia Coomber and Jan Kotzé in Kirsten Isenberg’s _Reverie_, part of Cape Ballet Africa_s triple bill _Breathwords_ (Photo Paul Seaby)

By Keith Bain

27 Mar 2025

A too-short run of Cape Ballet Africa’s latest triple bill, Breathwords, includes the world premiere of whispers from within by Dutch choreographer Wubkje Kuindersma, Nacho Duato’s much-acclaimed Remanso, and an expanded version of Kirsten Isenberg’s dreamy, light-as-a-feather Reverie.

It is almost shocking what dancing does for the soul. Doing it yourself is one thing, but witnessing truly talented and abundantly capable dancers performing on a stage, surrendering to some force beyond our understanding, is on another level.

Cape Ballet Africa’s dancers are trained, toned and toughened, and for the young company’s new triple bill, they have given themselves over to the works, placed themselves in the hands of three masterful choreographers in order to lift audiences out of their seats and transport them to some ethereal place.

Truly, the programme is a triumph. It’s something of an understatement to say that by the end of the opening night of Breathwords the audience went bananas: exhilarated, noticeably invigorated, people were more than a little charged up, the lengthy standing ovation barely enough to express gratitude for a night of sumptuous music and the sort of dancing that causes the soul to soar.

From personal experience, there were plenty of tears in the dark, too. First it was the music that got me: from the first tender notes of Max Richter’s recomposed versions of “Spring” and “Summer” from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, it was full-scale emotional surrender.

It’s to Richter’s take on Vivaldi that Dutch choreographer Wubkje Kuindersma has created whispers from within, an exuberant, expansive physical meditation on the intricate paradoxes of human existence, an exploration of what it is to express outwardly the sometimes unsayable intimacies that dwell inside all of us.

Kuindersma had the dancers expand in all directions as if reaching for the outer limits of the universe, and then retract inward, pulling together and gathering as a collective, visually connecting a line between the expansiveness of human experience and the desire for closeness with one another.

This contrast of grand, outward gestures and something quiet and private within somehow gave the dancers scope to reveal aspects of themselves that felt incredibly real and raw.

It was generous dancing, at once poetic and potent, the exuberance and aliveness of the dancers beautiful to witness. There was a sense, too, not only of what a fantastic time the dancers were having surrendering to the drama of the music, but also of their inherent respect for Kuindersma’s kinetic imagination. It felt as though the choreographic process had itself been an opportunity for the dancers to soar, and that the sensation they received in return for their hard work was bliss.

Danced to Enrique Granados’s “Valses Poeticos” (or “Poetic Waltzes”), the second part of the Breathwords programme is the acclaimed three-man ballet, Remanso, choreographed by the Spanish master Nacho Duato.

Thomas Larché and Jan Kotzé in Wubkje Kuindersma's 'whispers from within', a brand new work for Cape Ballet Africa's triple bill Breathwords. (Photo: Paul Seaby)

A scene from Cape Ballet Africa's Breathwords. (Photo: Paul Seaby)

Remanso had its world premiere in 1997 in New York, where it was created for the American Ballet Theatre. Since then, it’s been restaged and revived numerous times around the world, but it’s a first for South Africa, and a big deal to have Duato overseeing his work in person.

Accompanied by virtuoso pianist Gerhard Joubert, this rendition of Remanso is an absolute charmer, a thrilling demonstration that human bodies can be used to say things that — almost 30 years after they were first expressed — still feel original and continue to have something to convey about what it is to be alive.

The ballet seizes inspiration from the great Spanish poet and playwright Garcia Lorca, who used the word “remanso” — a term to describe calm, still water in a river — to convey a state of respite, reflection and tranquility.

In the ballet, which features a rose as prop that becomes almost a fourth character (or a fifth, since there’s a freestanding square wall on stage that is possibly a character, too), touches of quirk and sensuality are interspersed with bold expressions that transform, often suddenly and unexpectedly, into moments of breathtaking intimacy, tenderness and calm.

It’s the sort of dance that makes you afraid to blink in case you miss even a fraction of the intrigue or fail to catch one of the many striking images that Duato constructs and then deconstructs with the three bodies on stage.

Filling in for South African-born Siphe November, a principal with the National Ballet of Canada who’d returned home to dance in Remanso but sustained a minor injury while rehearsing, is Thomas Giugovaz. A soloist from Madrid’s Compañia Nacional de Danza (the Spanish National Dance Company), Giugovaz has previously performed the work (and appears to have it in his DNA), and is quite magnificent in it, a perfect embodiment of strength and softness, fine technique and exquisite timing.

Giugovaz works so tightly and sensitively with the company’s dancers, Jan Kótze and Joshua Williams, who similarly breathe such life and exuberance into Duato’s piece which is itself a testament to dance’s capacity to generate joy.

Remanso is, by turns, also playful, punctuated with wit, and quite athletic, in moments even acrobatic. There are elements in it that might put you in mind of techniques from silent comedies, the subtle use of mimed gestures ever-so-slightly reminiscent of Charlie Chaplin.

The aforementioned square wall periodically serves to hide and reveal the dancers who disappear behind it and then reappear in various ways, a theme of tongue-in-cheek hide-and-seek that metaphorically — and rather enchantingly — echoes life itself.

Joshua Williams in Nacho Duato's Remanso. (Photo: Paul Seaby)

Gabriel Ravenscroft, Mia Coomber and Jan Kotzé in Kirsten Isenberg’s Reverie. (Photo: Paul Seaby)

The final part of Breathwords is an expanded version of Kirsten Isenberg’s Reverie, which was performed as part of the company’s inaugural production, Salt, last year.

It was originally danced to the first two movements of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s “Piano Concerto No. 2”, to which the third movement has been added, making the work almost twice its previous length. It is a sumptuous and in moments staggering fusion of classical ballet and neoclassical athleticism and imagination, and for this run is accompanied by the Cape Town Philharmonic Orchestra with Brandon Phillips conducting and, again, featuring Joubert at the piano.

It is in all respects an enchanting, seductive and often seemingly effortless piece, the soothing, comforting music of the Russian pianist-composer affording the dancers with a solid foundation upon which to convey incredible lightness, a softness that is almost tangible, as though you could reach out on to the stage and find yourself grasping at clouds.

It is a splendid work: propulsive, genteel, and with clever interplay between engrossing full-cast movements and an elegant, slightly heartbreaking pas de trois danced by Gabriel Ravenscroft, Mia Coomber and Jan Kotzé. They just make reality seem so much lighter.

It’s true that the world is in a difficult moment, but then you witness the beauty of these dancers surrendering to the music, giving themselves to the emotions, losing themselves in the majesty of the choreography, another truth becomes evident: the power of the human body to express the unsayable.

Breathwords is a reprieve, an opportunity to escape the stifling, suffocating mess we sometimes find ourselves in, a chance to breathe. DM

Breathwords is at Artscape until 27 March 2025.

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