The weight of the world settled on my shoulders as I took my place in the dimly lit theatre. It wasn’t the kind of oppressive weight that makes you hunch over, but rather a heavy blanket of anticipation. Tonight, we were experiencing a revival of The Green Table, a ballet that has become legendary since its premiere in 1932. The weight I felt was not simply the pressure of watching something historic, but a sense of the tragedy that awaited us on that stark, green table. The story is simple, stark even: a chilling portrait of war, with the Green Table acting as a battleground for humanity. No specific war is portrayed, no historical figures dominate the stage. This is a universal narrative of human violence and destruction, a ballet that transcends time and place.
I have studied the work of Kurt Jooss, the choreographer, for years. I remember the awe I felt the first time I watched his The Green Table, back when I was just starting out in the dance world. There’s something so visceral and real in his choreography, so intensely human, that it never fails to make me want to understand the depths of its meaning. It is, quite simply, brilliant. I find it captivating, how he uses movement to portray both the absurdity and the devastation of war, from the awkward shuffling steps of the young men marching off to their doom to the frantic, desperate movements of those caught in the conflict. There are moments of heartbreaking beauty in The Green Table, moments where the music by Friedrich Cohen rises above the despair, a poignant melody signifying the fragile hope of peace.
Watching these veteran dancers, with their impeccable timing and powerful expression, it was almost impossible to separate their physical movement from the weight of history. The way they transitioned seamlessly between their individual narratives - a mother’s grief, a soldier’s confusion, a lover's betrayal - made the entire piece flow effortlessly, like the inevitability of war itself. As the piece progressed, the sheer number of dancers on the stage only accentuated the overwhelming sense of conflict and desperation. The green table itself became a symbol of everything the ballet explored – the fragile hope, the inevitable tragedy, and ultimately the lasting impact of war.
This revival was nothing short of breathtaking. The precision of the choreography was exquisite. Every move, every gesture was imbued with an authenticity that echoed through the auditorium. The male dancers conveyed their journey into the abyss of war with compelling physicality, each step laced with fear, resignation and ultimately, tragic vulnerability. One can't forget the dancers playing the figures of 'Death', their movements, sharp, calculated, almost predatory, were frightening and mesmerising.
There are moments where the choreography shifts away from the brutal depiction of war. We see delicate, heartbreaking portrayals of grief and love. The dancer playing 'The Mother' was simply heartbreaking in her raw and poignant performance, expressing grief so powerful that it transcended words and language. Her mourning for her son felt palpable, mirroring the universal experience of loss and despair.
But it's the final moments that truly stay with you. As the green table stands vacant, the dancers’ bodies frozen in a tableau, you understand the horrifying reality of war, not as some distant tragedy but as an ongoing threat, an invisible wound upon the human psyche.
However, The Green Table is more than just a cautionary tale. Amidst the devastation, there are moments of tenderness, glimpses of the inherent human spirit, which make it all the more poignant. It reminds us of our interconnectedness, the fragility of peace, and the ongoing fight against a humanity that continually perpetuates war.
Here are some of the aspects that particularly stood out:- The Power of Silence: While the music plays a crucial role, moments of complete silence throughout the performance, particularly after the tragic deaths on the Green Table, added an extraordinary level of poignancy and depth.
- The Strength of the Ensemble: It's rare to see a ballet so powerfully carried by an ensemble cast. Each dancer brought a unique layer to the piece, with no single figure overpowering the collective narrative. This reinforces the universality of war, reminding us that everyone is touched by its devastating consequences.
- The Haunting Simplicity of the Sets: The sparse use of props, notably the minimalist, but prominent green table and simple backdrops, allowed for the focus to remain entirely on the dance. This made the audience's imagination an integral part of the storytelling. The austerity of the stage design was a powerful metaphor for the devastation of war and created an immediate sense of disquiet.
If you want to understand the heart of humanity, in its dark corners and its fleeting moments of beauty, then you need to experience The Green Table. It's more than a dance performance – it's an invitation to reflect, to question, to confront our darkest realities and to never forget the terrible cost of war.