Quotes of the Day

Lately turkey has been in the headlines more for its politics than its people: saying no to the invasion of Iraq, pushing for E.U. accession, and being targeted by terrorists. Deadly bombings last November dented the facade of Istanbul, the city where East meets West, and led to tight security in advance of this month's NATO summit. But to modern dance legend Pina Bausch, this ancient city beside the Bosphorus remains a place of mystery and movement, gypsies, drinkers and steamy Turkish baths. In Nefes (Breath), a show that runs until the end of June at Paris' Théâtre de la Ville, before moving on to Berlin and Tokyo, the German choreographer uses Istanbul as a respite from recent political events.

When Bausch first conceived the show in 2002, she wanted it to be busy, colorful and noisy, reflecting life in a city of more than 12 million inhabitants. But the Iraq war changed all that. "It was difficult to work at all," she recalls. The show became a kind of antidote to the war. "In all my pieces time is always present; time, the politics, the fears. So there is a change in tone from earlier pieces. It's very calm, very concentrated on movement. You need calm at times like this."

Calm is a new word for Bausch, 63, who was once dubbed the "wicked witch of German dance" for snubbing classics like The Nutcracker. Along with Martha Graham and Merce Cunningham , she is one of the giants of modern dance. Having done away with formal balletic movements, she helped pioneer "dance-theater," a genre which fuses dance with bits of dialogue and song. Like real people, Bausch's dancers flirt, eat, drink, burp and fall over. Her devotees range from actress Cate Blanchett to movie director Pedro Almodóvar, who paid homage to the choreographer by opening and closing his Oscar-winning film Talk to Her with two Bausch performances.

The Istanbul show is the latest in a series of pieces inspired by geographic locations that has seen Bausch and her colorful dance company Tanztheater Wuppertal visit Hong Kong, Lisbon and Los Angeles. A co-production of the Istanbul Theater Festival, Nefes is a three-hour show based on three weeks that Bausch and her 30 dancers spent in Istanbul, roaming the city's markets, back streets and waterfronts. Dressed typically in a classic black trouser suit, hair pulled back tightly into a bun, Bausch is still every inch the ballerina. Her long, slim fingers are rarely without a cigarette or cup of black coffee. Even after hundreds of sold out performances in the world's most prestigious venues, she is unable to eat or drink before a show. "I am always so nervous," she says, smiling. Her perfectionism is notorious programming just one light cue can take an entire evening.

A Bausch show is like food for your subconscious. There is no plot. Instead she takes a series of everyday events and skews them until they become dreamlike, familiar yet uncanny. "I try," she says, "to create an image that is so open you can find a place in it for yourself where it means something."

Those images are often whimsical. In Nefes, a woman leans against the side of the stage and appears to give birth from under her billowing dress as dancers crawl out one by one. Speeding cars are projected onto a huge screen; a tiny figure runs, seemingly between the wheels of encroaching vehicles, and the audience cringes. Ultimately, her productions always come back to big questions about love, loneliness and the search for intimacy. Yet they also manage to be funny, even bawdy. In Nefes, at the hamam (Turkish bath), a matronly masseuse rips the towel off an unsuspecting tourist. "That really happened to one of the dancers," says Bausch, smiling. "She didn't know the procedure." Nefes offers a uniquely Bauschian take on Istanbul that, like its title, comes as a breath of fresh air in troubled times. "I can't claim to explain Istanbul," says Bausch. "But I do hope audiences across the world will find a place for themselves in these images."

• PELIN TURGUT | Istanbul
• In Paris, dance legend Pina Bausch offers a calm, funny take on everyday life in stormy Istanbul