Farewell performance Arthur Rosenfeld is about one person. Ana Teixido.

Choreographer Arthur Rosenfeld bid farewell (for now) to a long dance career on 5 February 2017. One that relies mainly on his wife, dancer Ana Teixido. Such a farewell is not without controversy at Rosenfeld. Leaving the field for someone else, who really wants that? Exit pursued by a bear, based on an eccentric stage directions by Shakespeare, goes on to the bitter end. A lifetime in dance condensed into one performance.

Shy for attention

With a curling index finger, Ana Teixido summons a timid spectator in the audience to come on stage. A nothing-to-go music sounds. Arthur sinks into his chair, rubs his nose, doesn't want to be there. As an audience, we chant his name and ahead: he complies with the peer pressure. Once on stage, you understand why Arthur didn't want to take the stage. He is awkward with attention. Indeed, he is in an identity crisis. Arthur doesn't want to be, or be called, Arthur. The many voicemails played aloud confirm his uncertainty: 'You called me 27 times already, this performance of yours is bound to be very good'.

Booster

Then Rosenfeld shoots through in a serving positive self-talk, as you get spoon-fed that in America through television. 'I am the greatest! The awkwardness of the Jewish-American dance maker seems to take centre stage. As a silent force, there is Ana Teixido. She dances dizzying duets with Arthur, in silence, synchronised, attuned and tuned in. She drags him along, directs him, applies a neck crick, holds him upright. She forgives him his interest in leggy girls and directs him to the ground, trousers on his knees.

What a woman. Such an anchor the nimble artist could use, as the confusion in Rosenfeld's life is also growing. Against the various characters who take office (a juggler, a magician, a dresser, a seductive auditor), the creative intellectual shrivels into a small, old man. What to do with someone like me, he seems to say. Ana silently flatters herself against him. She wears a bear suit.

Melancholy at lock

'Arthur Rosenfeld wants to wrap up his past to look forward only. But how can you sum up almost 45 years as a dancer, maker, boss and enfant terrible in one performance?', states Maas. It succeeds, as you become steeped in an extraordinary dance life through this compelling evening. This tribute leaves a permanent, non-American smile on your face.

L'Chaim!