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For once, a noted choreographer didn’t provide us with a remake of Cho-Cho San or double suicide; the cascading snow flakes, however, did evoke Yasunari Kawabata’s evocative novel Snow Country, a sub text to the episodic qualities of arrival, dalliance and departure of the superb Bausch dancers.

Bausch attempted, and to varying degree, succeeded in suggesting the disjunction between the Japan of tradition and of technological accomplishment and gadgetry, the discrepancy suggested by the disjointed parts of the whale, still pursued for its edible value Japanese school children’s diets. Much has been made of the presence of the tail, the hump and the fin of a whale as stage setting; the semi- vertical tail dominates central stage left; the hump, on a diagonal dominating forward center right and the fin hovering somewhere towards central stage back. I swore the hump and the tail changed angles during the performance.

In front and around it, the women of the company, a number of them in elegant heeled shoes in courtier-quality floor length gowns, most in dully glistening satin cut and draped on the bias, strode, posed, were lifted, and sometimes stretched themselves prone on the stage. Two of the heftier members of the company sported bouffant dresses of black and iridescent blue-purple; one black tutu-like layered tulle was designed to be torn into bits, chewed and discarded. Allotted most of the dialogue - the verbiage ranged from dragon lady- like dominance to flitting, twittering type vocal patterns. A Teutonic blonde stalked across the stage somewhat oblivious to anything save the impression she created, perhaps a latter day evocation of narcissistic oiran demeanor.

One observation was the tendency to separate male and female behavior outside of sexual intimacy. While dancing essentially waited until intermission, a recitation of electronic equipment and manufacturers provided a pervasive reminder of contemporary Japan, a sequence of photo snapping near to the face of one handsome man by a young woman, the arrangement of hands and legs by one to another more freely sensual young woman with subsequent repetitive bowing brought chuckles to an audience cognizant of Japanese social cliches. I was surprised Bausch didn’t do a take on the exchange of business cards.

Two sections of male dancing personified the discrepancy; one where an ensemble of men,with multiple ties dangling around their necks dashed around the stage. Brooke Byrne felt it alluded to Godzilla; I related it to the practice of men drinking after work hours until a contracted taxi arrives at their familiar bar to drive them home. The second example was the disrobing of kimonos worn by one man by another man down to a scarlet loin cloth, unwound before the disrobed man is helped into anonymous Western style black shirt and trousers. Thus shorn of layers, short of ritual suicide, the man danced wildly and freely across the stage.

At final curtain, a handsome young Asian woman was gyrating in contemporary fashion break style. The audience thought the production sensational; standing ovation.